mouse gave up the keys, and ran back to its hole; but the old man's
daughter began to walk about the room, and jingled the keys.
At sunrise the bear came off the stove, and said:
"O daughter of the old man! you are blest of heaven! For here was I, a
powerful monarch, changed by enchantment into a bear, until some living
soul should spend two nights in this hut. And now I shall soon become a
man again, and return to my kingdom, taking you for my wife. But before
this comes to pass, do you look into my right ear."
The old man's daughter threw back her hair, and looked into the right
ear of the bear. And she saw a beautiful country, with millions of
people, with high mountains, deep rivers, impenetrable forests, and
pastures covered with flocks, well-to-do villages, and rich cities.
"What seest thou?" asked the bear.
"I see a lovely country."
"That is my kingdom. Look into my left ear."
She looked, and could not enough admire what she saw--a magnificent
palace, with many carriages and horses in the courtyard, and in the
carriages rich robes, jewels, and all kinds of rarities.
"What do you see?" asked the bear.
She described it all.
"Which of those carriages do you prefer?"
"The one with four horses," she replied.
"That is yours then," answered the bear, as he opened the window.
There was a sound of wheels in the forest, and a golden carriage
presently drew up before the cottage drawn by four splendid horses,
although there was no driver.
The bear adorned his beloved with a gown of cloth-of-gold, with diamond
ear-rings, a necklace set with various precious stones, and diamond
rings, saying:
"Wait here a little while; your father will come for you presently; and
in a few days, when the power of the enchantment is over, and I am a
king again, I will come for you, and you shall be my queen."
So saying the bear disappeared into the forest, and the old man's
daughter looked out of the window to watch for her father's coming.
The old man, having left his daughter in the wood, came home very sad;
but on the third day he harnessed his waggon again, and drove into the
forest, to see if she were alive or dead; and if she were dead at least
to bury her.
Towards evening the old woman and her own daughter looked out of the
window, and a dog, the favourite of the old man's daughter, suddenly
rushed to the door, and began to bark:
"Bow! wow! wow! the old man's here!
Bringing home his daughter dear,
Decked with gold and diamonds' sheen,
Gifts to please a royal queen."
The old woman gave the dog an angry kick. "You lie, you big ugly dog!
Bark like this!
'Bow! wow! wow! the old man's come!
His daughter's bones he's bringing home!'"
So saying she opened the door; the dog leaped forth; and she went with
her daughter into the courtyard. They stood as if transfixed!
For in drove the carriage with four galloping horses, the old man
sitting on the box, cracking his whip, and his daughter sat inside,
dressed in cloth of gold, and adorned with jewels.
The old woman pretended she was overjoyed to see her, welcomed her with
many kisses, and was anxious to know where she got all these rich and
beautiful things.
The girl told her that they were all given to her by the bear in the
forest hut.
Next day the old woman baked some delicious cakes, and gave them to her
own daughter, saying to the old man:
"If your wretched, worthless daughter has had such good luck, I am sure
my sweet, pretty darling will get a deal more from the bear, if he can
only see her. So you must drive her out in the waggon, leave her in the
forest, and come back without her."
And she gave the old man a good push, to hasten his departure, shut the
door of the cottage in his face, and looked out of the window to see
what would happen.
The old man went to the stable, got out the waggon, put the horse to,
helped his stepdaughter in, and drove away with her into the forest.
There he left her, turned his horse's head, and drove quickly home.
The old woman's daughter was not long in finding out the hut in the
forest. Confident in the power of her charms she went straight into the
little room. There was nobody within; but there was the same table in
one corner, the benches round the walls, the oven by the door, and the
spinning-wheel, under the window, with a great bundle of flax.
She sat down on one of the benches, undid her bundle, and began eating
the cakes with great relish, looking from the window all the time.
It soon began to get dark, a strong wind began to blow, and a voice was
heard singing outside:
"Wanderer! outcast, forsaken!
Whom the night has overtaken;
If no crime your conscience stain,
Here this night you may remain."
When the voice ceased she answered:
"I am outcast and forsaken;
Yet unstained by crime am I:
Be you rich, or be you poor,
For this night here let me lie."
Then the door opened, and the bear walked in.
The girl stood up, gave him a winning smile, and waited for him to bow
first.
The bear looked at her narrowly, made a bow, and said:
"Welcome, maiden ... but I have not much time to stay here. I must go
back to the forest; but between now and to-morrow evening you must make
me a shirt, out of this flax; so you must set at once about spinning,
weaving, bleaching, washing, and then about sewing it. Good-bye!"
So saying the bear turned, and went out.
"That's not what I came here for," said the girl, so soon as his back
was turned, "to do your spinning, weaving, and sewing! You may do
without a shirt for me!"
So saying, she made herself comfortable on one of the benches, and went
to sleep.
Next day, at evening twilight, the bear came back, and asked:
"Is the shirt ready?"
She made no answer.
"What's this? the distaff has not been touched."
Silence as before.
"Get me ready my supper at once. You will find water in that pail, and
the groats in that cupboard. I must go and fetch my bedding, for
to-night I will sleep at home."
The bear went out, and the old woman's daughter lit the fire in the
stove, and began to prepare the porridge. Then the little mouse came
out, stood on its hind-legs, and said:
"Mistress! help me, or I die!
A poor, weak little mouse am I!
I am hungry, give me food;
And to you will I be good."
But the unkind girl only caught up the spoon with which she was stirring
the porridge, and flung it at the poor mouse, which ran away in a
fright.
The bear soon came back with a huge load of stones and wood; instead of
a mattress he arranged a layer of stones on the top of the stove, and
covered this with the wood, in place of a sheet. He ate up the porridge,
and said:
"Here! take these keys; walk all night about the hut, and keep on
jingling them. And if, when I get up to-morrow, I find you still alive,
you shall be happy."
The bear was snoring at once, and the old woman's daughter walked up and
down drowsily, jingling the keys.
But about midnight the bear woke up, and flung a stone towards the
quarter whence he heard the jingling. It hit the old woman's daughter.
She gave one shriek, fell, and expired instantly.
Next morning the bear descended from the top of the oven, looked once at
the dead girl, opened the cottage door, stood upon the threshold, and
stamped upon it three times with all his force. It thundered and
lightened; and in one moment the bear became a handsome young king, with
a golden sceptre in his hand, and a diamond crown on his head.
And now there drew up before the cottage a carriage, bright as sunshine,
with six horses. The coachman cracked his whip, till the leaves fell
from the trees, and the king got into the carriage, and drove away from
the forest to his own capital city.
The old man having left his stepdaughter in the forest came home
rejoicing in his daughter's joy. She was expecting the king every day.
In the meantime he busied himself with looking after the four splendid
horses, cleaning the golden carriage, and airing the costly
horse-clothes.
On the third day after his return the old woman came down upon him and
said:
"Go and fetch my darling; she is no doubt all dressed in gold by this
time, or married to a king; so I shall be a queen's mother."
The old man, obedient as ever, harnessed the waggon, and drove off.
When evening came the old woman gazed from the window; when the dog
began to bark:
"Bow! wow! wow! the old man's come!
Your daughter's bones he's bringing home!"
"You lie!" exclaimed the old woman; "bark like this:
'Bow! wow! wow! the old man's here!
Driving home your daughter dear,
Decked in gold and diamonds' sheen,
Gifts to please a royal queen.'"
So saying she ran out of the house to meet the old man, coming back in
the waggon; but she stood as if thunderstruck, sobbed, and wept, and was
hardly able to articulate:
"Where is my sweetest daughter?"
The old man scratched his head, and replied:
"She has met with a great misfortune; this is all I have found of her--a
few bare bones, and blood-stained garments; in the wood, in the old hut
... she has been devoured by wolves."
The old woman, wild with grief and despair, gathered up her
daughter's bones, went to some neighbouring cross-ways, and when a
number of people had gathered together, she buried them there with
weeping and lamentation; then she fell face downward on the grave--and
was turned to stone.
[Illustration: THE REWARD OF THE GOOD LITTLE GIRL]
Meanwhile a royal carriage drew up in the courtyard of the old man's
cottage, bright as the sun, with four splendid horses, and the coachman
cracked his whip--till the cottage fell to pieces with the sound.
The king took both the old man and his daughter into the carriage, and
they drove away to his capital, where the marriage soon took place.
The old man lived happily in his declining years, as the father-in-law
of a king, and with his sweet daughter, who had once been so miserable,
a queen.
APPENDIX
NOTE I
THE FROG PRINCESS
This is certainly a "Nature story." The princess and her attendants are
clearly personification of the elemental forces. The classical scholar
cannot fail to be struck by the likeness of her metamorphoses to the
story of Peleus and Thetis. Indeed the "Protean myth" so repeatedly
occurs in these primitive Slavonic stories that it is impossible not to
suspect a common origin.
NOTE II
PRINCESS MIRANDA AND PRINCE HERO
The old woman "Jandza"--which word Polish dictionary-makers translate by
"fury"--appears very often both in Polish and Russian fairy tales, as a
witch of witches. She is sometimes "Jaga"; and seems pretty malevolent,
though capable of serving those who know how to manage her.
This story--probably a symbolic one--of the Spring and Winter, or the
triumph of Light over Darkness, might be read at the present moment into
an allegory of Poland, overrun, her people oppressed, starved, and all
but extirpated by the malignant spirit of German militarism. Princess
Miranda, herself unsleeping, awake, and watching, while all is
desolation and despair around her, might be taken for the Spirit of
Poland herself, undying, but waiting for deliverance. But where is the
Prince Hero, who shall deliver her?
_Princess Miranda_--her name is _cud-dziewica_, i.e. "Wonder
Maiden"--but is not "admired Miranda" the most obvious rendering?
NOTE III
THE WHIRLWIND
The name of the heroine "Ladna" signifies "pretty" or "beautiful" in
Polish. It is not the word originally used; but being nearly equivalent,
and of similar meaning, appears preferable.
The prince's name "Dobrotek," signifies "good," or "benefactor." Being
easy of pronunciation, but not easily Englished into a proper name, it
seemed best to retain it.
The whole story has a very Eastern cast. The mention of the "Seven
seas," and the high mountains beyond them, suggest Persian or Indian
influence. The ugly dwarf, with the long beard and diminutive stature,
seems a malignant "Jinn," and to have his counterpart in a well-known
legend of the Arabian Nights. But this is not the only Polish tale that
gives this impression; more than one appears directly taken from these
tales.
P. 50. "The Water of Loosening." Loosening is not perhaps an exact
rendering, which is rather "unstiffening," or destroying the _rigor
mortis_, as a preparative to healing a mortal wound, and breaking the
sleep of death. These three waters always appear in stories, where this
incident is used.
NOTE IV
THE PRINCESS OF THE BRAZEN MOUNTAIN
This story is rather freely translated, and much shortened from the
original. There is much pious reflection, too long for insertion. The
conversation between the prince and the sorcerer-miller is somewhat
changed as much of it seemed rather irrelevant to the chief interest of
the story, and lacking in pithiness.
The story of a supernatural maiden, compelled by the theft of her wings
to remain temporarily as a mortal with a mortal husband, has its
counterpart in many lands. The oldest perhaps is a Persian story,
related in Keightly's "Fairy Mythology," of a Peri, who being thus
entrapped, lives several years as an ordinary woman; but accidently
finding her wings again, puts them on, and deserts her mortal husband
and children, remarking as she does so: "I loved you well enough, while
we remained together; but I love my former husband better"--and so
vanishes away to Peristan.
The parallel legend of "Little Sealskin" will readily occur to memory.
THE END
Transcriber's Notes:
The two footnotes in the original text were indicated by small symbols
rather than numbers as shown here.