One day, as they were walking, a young boy passed along, and the lion
asked whether that was a man.
"No," replied the tiger, "that is a man that is to be."
Shortly afterwards an old woman passed, and the lion asked whether that
was a man. "No," replied the tiger, "that is one who has made men."
At last a hussar passed. The tiger said, "This is a man."
The hussar drew near, shot at the lion, and, quite dazed, it ran away.
The hussar overtook him, and drawing his sword wounded him in many
places. The lion escaped and said afterwards, "When he blew at me it
was bad enough, but how much worse was it, when he pricked me."
Another version from the inhabitants of Transylvania is found in
Haltrich D. Volksmärchen a. d. Sachsenlande i. Siebbrgn, Wien 1877
(No. 86). Here it is the wolf who boasts, and the fox tells him that
there is something much more powerful than he is and that is man. The
wolf asks the fox to show him man. An old man passes, the fox says,
"This was a man."
A boy passes and the fox says, "This is not yet a man."
A hunter comes, and from behind the bush the fox whispers, "That
is man." The hunter shoots at the wolf, then draws his knife and
slashes him. The wolf runs away and owns himself beaten by the man,
who makes thunder and lightning, throws stones in his face, and then
draws a shining rib and cuts away at him.
Cf. also Grimm, 72.
CIV.
THE STORY OF THE GNAT AND THE BUFFALO.
A man was driving his buffalo to market. On the way they passed a
marsh. The buffalo, in accordance with its habit, went into it and
started wallowing. The man tried to get him out of it and threatened
him with his stick, but the buffalo took no notice.
There came a gnat buzzing by the man and saying to him:
"What wilt thou say if I drive him out of the swamp?"
"You," replied the man contemptuously, "what can a little midget like
you do, when the buffalo does not care even for me?"
"Just so," said the gnat, "I will show you that I can do what you
cannot."
"Try, then, if you can." So the gnat went and placed itself under the
fold of the buffalo's belly, and stung him just between the creases
of the skin where the flesh was softest.
Up jumped the buffalo, and in a wink he had got out of the mire, and
was brought to the market by the man who owned shamefacedly that of
the two the gnat was the stronger.
"Hi! hi!" hissed the gnat, "didst thou see that I could do with my
little tongue, what thou with thy mighty cudgel couldst not do?"
CV.
THE STORY OF THE TOWN MOUSE AND THE FIELD MOUSE.
A mouse living in the town one day met a mouse which lived in the
field.
"Whence do you come?" asked the latter when she saw the town-mouse.
"I come from yonder town," replied the first mouse.
"How is life going there with you?"
"Very well, indeed. I am living in the lap of luxury. Whatever I want
of sweets or any other good things is to be found in abundance in my
master's house. But how are you living?"
"I have nothing to complain of. You just come and see my stores. I
have grain and nuts, and all the fruits of the tree and field in
my storehouse."
The town-mouse did not quite believe the story of her new friend, and,
driven by curiosity, went with her to the latter's house. How great
was her surprise when she found that the field-mouse had spoken the
truth; her garner was full of nuts and grain and other stores, and her
mouth watered when she saw all the riches which were stored up there.
Then she turned to the field-mouse and said, "Oh, yes, you have here
a nice snug place and something to live upon, but you should come to
my house and see what I have there. Your stock is as nothing compared
with the riches which are mine."
The field mouse, who was rather simple by nature and trusted her new
friend, went with her into the town to see what better things the
other could have. She had never been into the town and did not know
what her friend could mean when she boasted of her greater riches. So
they went together, and the town-mouse took her friend to her master's
house. He was a grocer, and there were boxes and sacks full of every
good thing the heart of a mouse could desire. When she saw all these
riches, the field mouse said she could never have believed it, had
she not seen it with her own eyes.
Whilst they were talking together, who should come in but the cat. As
soon as the town-mouse saw the cat, she slipped quietly behind a box
and hid herself. Her friend, who had never yet seen a cat, turned to
her and asked her who that gentleman was who had come in so quietly?
"Do you not know who he is? Why, he is our priest (popa), and he has
come to see me. You must go and pay your respects to him and kiss
his hand. See what a beautiful, glossy coat he has on, and how his
eyes sparkle, and how demurely he keeps his hands in the sleeves
of his coat." Not suspecting anything, the field-mouse did as she
was told and went up to the cat. He gave her at once his blessing,
and the mouse had no need of another after that: the cat gave her
extreme unction there and then. That was just what the town-mouse had
intended. When she saw how well stored the home of the field-mouse was,
she made up her mind to trap her and to kill her, so that she might
take possession of all that the field-mouse had gathered up. She had
learned the ways of the townspeople and had acted up to them.
This story reminds one of the story of La Fontaine, yet the conclusion
here is quite different. The popular tale undoubtedly underwent a
definite change in the hands of La Fontaine, who used the fable for
driving home a totally different moral lesson, just in the style of
all the fables so used since Aesop downwards. The popular tale as
told here is perhaps more crude, but still much more true to nature--a
picture of life.
Hahn (No. 90) tells an Albanian tale where the fox goes on a pilgrimage
and becomes a monk, just as the cat in the Rumanian story is a priest.
CVI.
THE STORY OF THE HARE AND THE FROGS.
One day, the hare, thinking of his miserable life, decided to put an
end to it. "What is my life worth to me?" he said to himself, sighing
heavily. "The dogs tear me, the wolves cat me, the eagles claw me,
the man hunts me. I have no peace, no rest, everybody is against
me and wishes to take my life. I had better go and drown myself,
and then there will be an end to my miseries." So speaking, he got
up and went to the neighbouring lake to drown himself in the water.
As he drew near he saw a number of frogs sitting by the water. When
they saw the hare coming up, they got frightened and jumped into the
water, some of them getting drowned in it. When the hare saw that he
had frightened the frogs to such an extent that he caused a number of
them to jump into the water and to get drowned, he stopped short and
said, "If there are creatures whom I can frighten, then surely even
I am not the weakest of all, as I had hitherto thought." Comforted
by this thought, he returned to his form.
CVII.
WHY DOES THE BUFFALO WALK SLOWLY AND TREAD GENTLY?
The Race of the Buffalo and the Hare.
In olden times, so we are told by those who know best, there was
constant strife between the hares and the buffaloes. Each of them
contended for the honour of being the most swift-footed.
Both did run very fast and neither would give in to the other. So
it went on year after year, and there seemed to be no end to the
strife. Tired of this constant fight, one day the hare said to the
buffalo, "Let us try a race together and settle this quarrel once
for all." The buffalo was well contented with the proposal, and they
agreed to race one another. When the day came the hare, putting his
ears back, started the race. He ran so fast that you might have said
he was flying upon the ground.
But the buffalo was a match for him. He went thundering away, his
hoofs splashing the mud and raising seas of mire. The earth shook
at his furious tread. He soon overtook the breathless hare which was
running panting as fast as its little legs could carry it.
Then a thought struck the hare, and he cried to the buffalo, "Ho,
friend! Take heed how thou art thundering along. The earth is shaking,
and if thou art not careful, the earth will give way under thee. See
how it is rocking under thy feet."
When the buffalo heard the hare's story, he stopped still for a while
bewildered, and then, being frightened, lest the earth should give
way under him and he sink beneath, he checked his pace and began to
walk slowly and tread gently.
That was just what the hare had wanted, and pulling a long nose at the
buffalo, he ran swiftly by, leaving the buffalo a long way behind. Thus
he won the race, and there was no longer any strife between the hares
and the buffaloes. But ever since the buffalo walks slowly and treads
lightly upon the ground.
CVIII.
THE STORY OF THE POINTER AND THE SETTER.
It is told that the pointer and the setter kept a public-house
together. All the animals would come and eat and drink and pay their
account, except the wolf and the hare who would come and eat and
drink very heavily, and regularly forget to pay. At last, the pointer
and setter could stand it no longer, and they went and lodged their
complaint before God. And God said, "As they have treated you so badly,
you are free to go for them whenever you see them. You must try and
catch them and make them pay."
And that is the reason why these dogs will go for the wolf as soon as
they scent his track, and also that is the reason why, when they catch
a hare, he will squeak, "Miat, miat"--which sounds like mart (Tuesday
in Rumanian)--as if he were saying "Wait till next Tuesday when I am
going to pay." And they are still waiting for that Tuesday to come.
CIX.
THE STORY OF THE RAT AND HIS JOURNEY TO GOD.
In a mill a rat once lived and prospered. It took after the miller,
and from day to day its paunch grew bigger. It became as round as
cucumber and as fat as a candle.
One day, looking at his round, sleek figure, the rat said to itself,
"Behold I am so beautiful and strong. Why should I not go and pay a
visit to God? He is sure to receive me."
No sooner said than done. Leaving the mill, he started on his journey
to God. After travelling a few days and not coming nearer to God, he
stopped and said, "Methinks that either God lives much farther away
than I believed, or I have lost my way. I will go to the sun and ask
where God is." Coming to the sun, the rat asked, "Where is God?" "Off
with thee," shouted the sun, "I have no time for idle talkers."
The rat went to the clouds and asked them, "Where is God?" The clouds
stared at him and said, "We cannot stop to bandy words with the like
of you." Away the rat went and came to the wind. "Where is God?" asked
the rat. "There," replied the wind, whistling, and getting hold of
the rat hurled him down into an ant-heap, and there he found his level.
This story is a curious parallel to another series of rat or mouse
tales. In these a rat wishes to marry the daughter of the mightiest
thing, and asked for the daughter of the sun. But he is not great
enough. The sun is covered by the clouds. The clouds are carried by the
wind, the wind is stopped by the mountain, the mountain is sapped by
the rat, thus he comes back to his own and finds his proper level. So
in the Rumanian Tale (Sevastos, Basme, Moldov. p. 236). (Cf. Benfey,
Pantschatantra, i. 375 ff.)
In an ancient Biblical legend Abraham discusses with Nimrod, Who
might be God? The sun cannot be worshipped as God, for the sun sets
and is followed by darkness, the moon is eclipsed by the sun, the
fire is quenched by water, the clouds of rain are carried by the
wind, the wind is stopped by the mountains, and so on. (Cf. Gaster,
Chronicles of Jerahmeel, London 1899, chap. xxxiv. p. 72 ff.)
The biblical setting of the legend is about two thousand years old. In
the Rumanian tale the comparison has disappeared, but the principal
elements have been preserved whilst invested with a different rôle.
CX.
THE STORY OF THE SEVEN-WITTED FOX AND THE ONE-WITTED OWL.
One day the owl met a fox, and the latter bragged about his
intelligence and cleverness, and said that he was very cunning and
slim. The owl asked him, "Brother mine, how many minds (wits) have
you?" "Seven," he said, boastingly. "No wonder you are so clever,
I have only one," said the owl.
A short time afterwards the owl again met the fox, but this time he
was running for his life. The hunters were after him, and the hounds
were trying to catch him.
Running as fast as his legs could carry him, he at last managed to slip
into a hole. The owl followed him, and seeing him there, exhausted,
asked him, "How many minds (wits) have you?" And he replied, "Six,
I have lost one by the chase."
Meanwhile the hunters and dogs came nearer and nearer, so they could
hear the baying of the dogs. The fox did not know what to do. The
owl asked him, "How many minds (wits) have you now, old fellow?"
"Oh, I have lost all my minds (wits). I have none left."
"Where is your cunning of which you bragged?"
"It is not kind of you, now, to go for a poor fellow when the dogs
are at his heels and there is no escape for him."
"Well," said the owl, "I have but one mind (wit), and I will see
whether I cannot save you with my one wit. It is my turn. I am going to
lie down here at the entrance as though dead. When the hunters come,
they will see me and get hold of me and talk about me. Meanwhile they
will forget you, and in the midst of the trouble you just dash out
and run for your life."
It happened just as the owl had said.
No sooner did the hunters come up and find the owl than they said,
"What is this ugly bird doing here? and a dead owl to boot"; and whilst
they were busy with the owl trying to get hold of it to throw it away,
off went the fox through them and escaped.
Soon afterwards the owl met him again and she said, "How have your
seven minds (wits) helped you when in time of danger? It is like that
with people who have too much, they often have nothing when they want
it most, but you see I had only one mind (wit), but a strong one and
not a dissolute one like yours, and that saved both you and me."
CXI.
THE STORY OF THE FOX AND HIS BAGFUL OF WITS AND THE ONE-WITTED
HEDGEHOG.
I do not know how he managed it, but a fox one day got into a
poultry-yard and there he ate his fill. Some time afterwards, going
along to the poultry-yard, the hedgehog met him. "Where are you going,
brother?"
"I am going to eat my fill."
"Surely you cannot get it just as you like."
"Oh," he said, "you just come with me and I will show you. I know my
way, and there is plenty for me and for you, and some to leave behind
for another time."
The hedgehog, who was a wise old fellow, said to the fox:
"Now, be careful; are you sure that the owners of the poultry yard
will let you in again so easily?"
"Don't you trouble," said the fox. "I know my business, you just come
with me." And the hedgehog went with him.
But the people of the poultry-yard were not such fools as the fox had
taken them for, and just where the fox had got in last time they had
dug a deep pit, and into that the fox and the hedgehog tumbled. When
they found themselves at the bottom of the pit, the hedgehog turned
to the fox and said, "Well, you clever fellow, is that the proper
way to get into the poultry-yard? Did I not warn you?"
"What is the good of talking?" replied the fox, "We are here now,
and we must see how to get out of it."
"But you are so clever, and I am only a poor old fool."
"Never mind, you were always a wise one. Can you help me?"
"No," he said, "I cannot help you. This sudden fall has upset me,
and I feel queer and sick."
"What," cried the fox, "you are not going to be sick here; that is
more than I can stand; out you go!"
So he got hold of the hedgehog by the snout, and the hedgehog coiled
himself up with his little paws into a little ball round the fox's
mouth, the fox lifted up his head with a jerk and threw the little
fellow out of the pit.
As soon as he saw himself safely out of the pit, the little hedgehog,
bending over the mouth of the pit, said, chuckling to the fox:
"Where is your wisdom, you fool? You boast that you have a bagful of
wits, whilst it is I who get myself out of the pit though I have only
a little wit."
"Oh," said the fox, whining, "do have pity on me! you are such a
clever old fellow, help me out of it too."
"Well," said the hedgehog, "I will help you. Now, you pretend to be
dead, and when the people come and find you stiff and stark, and a
nasty smell about you, they will say, 'The fox has died and his carcase
is rotting; it is going to make all the poultry yard offensive.' They
will take you and throw you out. And then see whither your way lies."
The fox did as the hedgehog had advised him, and when the people came
and found him in that state, they hauled him out and threw him out
of the yard on to the road.
Quicker than you could clap your hands, the fox was on his legs,
and he ran as if the ground was burning under him.
Since then the fox and the hedgehog are good friends.
South Slavonic Tales, Krauss, No. 13.
A fox meeting a hedgehog asked him, "How many wits have you?" And he
replied, "Only three. But how many have you?" "I," boasted the fox,
"have seventy-seven."
As they were talking and walking along, not noticing whither they
were going, they fell into a deep hole which the peasants had
dug. The fox asked the hedgehog to save him. The hedgehog said,
"I have only three wits, perhaps you will save me first, then I
will see about you afterwards"; and he asked the fox to pitch him
out of the hole. The fox did so, and then asked the hedgehog whether
he could help him. The hedgehog said, "I cannot help you with three
if you cannot help yourself with seventy-seven." And so the fox was
caught in the morning by the peasants and killed.
In the Rumanian version, the hedgehog saves the fox by one wit and
puts him to shame, which rounds off the story much better; in the
Slavonic tale there is scarcely any point.
But this probably goes back to a more ancient legend referred to in
a Greek epigram, v. Benfey, Pantschatantra, i. 316.
Compare the parallel story in Grimm (No. 75) of a fox with the hundred
wits, and also Hahn (91).
CXII.
THE STORY OF THE PEASANT, THE SNAKE, AND KING SOLOMON.
Once upon a time, when King Solomon the wise ruled over the people,
some shepherds gathered under a tree and lit a fire, not for any
special reason, but just to pass their time, as they often do. When
they left, they did not take care to put the fire out; it was left
burning under the ashes. Spreading slowly, it caught the great tree,
which soon afterwards became a mass of living flames. A snake had crept
on to that tree before and found itself now in danger of perishing in
the flames. Creeping upwards to the very top of the tree, the snake
cried as loud as it could, for she felt her skin scorched by the
fire. At that moment a man passed by, and hearing the shrieking of the
snake, who begged him to save her from the flames, he took pity on her,
and cutting a long stick, he reached with it up to the top of the tree
for the snake to glide down on it. But he did not know the mind of the
cunning beast, which had aforetime deceived his forefather Adam, for,
instead of gliding down to the ground, no sooner did the snake reach
the neck of the good man than she coiled herself round and round his
neck. In vain did he remind her that he had saved her life, she would
not hear of anything, for she said, "My skin is dearer to me than to
you, and I remain where I am, you cannot shake me off." Finding that
he could not get rid of the snake, the man went from judge to judge,
from king to king, to decide between them, but no one could help him.
At last, hearing of the wisdom of King Solomon, he came to him and laid
his case before him. But King Solomon said, "I am not going to judge
between you unless you both first promise to abide by my word." Both
did so. Turning to the snake, King Solomon then said, "You must uncoil
yourself and get down on the earth, for I cannot judge fairly between
one who is standing on the ground and one who is riding."
Cunning though the snake may be, she did not understand the wisdom
of King Solomon, and therefore uncoiling herself she glided down
and rested on the ground. Turning to the man, King Solomon said,
"Do you not know that you must never trust a snake?" The man at once
understood what the king meant, and taking up a stone he bruised the
snake's head. And thus justice was done.
Needless to point out, that we have here a variant of the widespread
tale of the man and the snake. At one time the judge is King Solomon,
who looms largely in the minds of the people as the very type of human
wisdom, at another time the judge is a child playing at justice, who
induces the snake to loosen her hold on the man and is then killed
by the man, who finds himself suddenly freed.
In other parallels animals are appointed as judges and this leads to
the undoing of the snake. (v. Benfey, Pantschatantra, i. p. 113 ff.);
Hahn (87), and the literature given by him; Afanasief (No. 15).
CXIII.
THE STORY OF THE DOG AND THE SNAKE AND THE CURE OF HEADACHE.
Once upon a time, I do not know how it came about, the dog had a
frightful headache, such a headache as he had never had before. It
nearly drove him mad, and he ran furiously hither and thither, not
knowing what to do to get rid of it. As he was running wildly over
a field, he met a snake that was lying there coiled up in the sun.
"What is the matter that you are running about like a madman,
brother?" asked the snake.
"Sister, I cannot stop to speak to you. I am clean mad with a splitting
headache, and I do not know how to be rid of it."
"I know a remedy," said the snake, "it is excellent for the headache
of a dog, but it is of no good to me who am also suffering greatly
from a headache."
"Never mind you, what am I to do?"
"You go yonder and eat some of the grass, and you will be cured of
the headache."
The dog did as the snake had advised him. He went and ate the grass,
and soon felt relieved of his pain.
Now, do you think the dog was grateful? No such luck for the snake. On
the contrary, a dog is a dog, and a dog he remains. And why should he
be better than many people are? He did as they do, and returned evil
for good. Going to the snake, he said, "Now that my headache is gone,
I feel much easier; I remember an excellent remedy for the headache
of snakes."
"And what might it be?" asked the snake eagerly.
"It is quite simple. When you feel your head aching, go and stretch
full length across the high-road and lie still for a while, and the
pain is sure to leave you."
"Thank you," said the simpleton of a snake, and she did as the dog had
advised her. She stretched herself full length across the high-road
and lay still, waiting for the headache to go.
The snake had been lying there for some time, when it so happened that
a man came along with a stout cudgel in his hands. To see the snake
and to bruise her head was the work of an instant. And the snake had
no longer any headache. The cure proved complete. And ever since that
time, when a snake has a headache it goes and stretches across the
high-road. If its head is crushed, then no other remedy is wanted,
but if the snake escapes unhurt, it loses its headache.
CXIV.
THE STORY OF THE HORSE, THE LION, AND THE WOLF.
There once lived a Sultan who had a charger. It had served him most
faithfully for a good number of years, carrying him in many battles
and on numerous other occasions.
At last the horse grew old and was no longer fit to serve him as
before. The Sultan, remembering its faithful services, decided to
free it from every manner of work, and in token of recognition of
its faithfulness he set it free to roam about and to feed wherever
it liked.
In order that it should not be molested, he ordered that a special
coating should be made for it of red cloth adorned with many coloured
stripes and patches. He also had it shod with steel shoes, which last
for a very long time.
So, covered with the king's cloth, the horse went about from field
to field eating whatever and whenever it pleased. Being now at ease,
the horse got fat again and strong, and when it walked on the road,
it struck with its feet against the stones and pebbles, and made the
sparks fly from them.
In a forest near by there lived a lion. One day, coming out to the
edge of the wood, he saw the horse in the distance, and as he had
never yet seen such a peculiar animal, he got frightened and started
running back into the thickest part of the forest.
There he met a wolf, who, seeing the lion run, asked him why he
was running.
"If your life is dear to you," he replied, "do not stop here talking,
for that terrible beast which I have seen yonder in the field is sure
to overtake us, and then good-bye to us."