were unable to quiet the young hero's longing for his parents, which
was fairly consuming him alive.
At last the horse said: "If you don't listen to me, master, whatever
happens to you will be your own fault. I'll tell you something, and if
you accept my condition, I'll take you back."
"I'll accept it with many thanks," replied the prince; "let me hear
it."
"As soon as you reach your father's palace you will dismount, but I am
to return alone in case you stay even an hour."
"Be it so," the prince agreed.
They made their preparations for the journey, the prince embraced the
ladies and after having bade them farewell he rode away, but they
sobbed and wept bitterly when he left them.
They reached the country which had once been the kingdom of the
Scorpion Witch, but found cities there; the woods had become fields;
the prince questioned one person and another about the Scorpion Witch
and her house, but they answered that their grandfathers had heard
from their great, great grandfathers that such silly tales had once
been told.
"How is that possible!" replied the prince, "I came through this
region myself only a short time ago," and he told them all he knew.
The people laughed at him as if he were a lunatic or a person talking
in his sleep, and the prince angrily rode on without noticing that his
hair and beard were growing white.
When he reached the realm of the Woodpecker Fairy, the same questions
and answers were exchanged. The prince could not understand how these
places had altered so much in a few days, and again rode angrily on.
He now had a white beard that reached to his waist, and he felt as if
his feet were beginning to tremble.
Quitting this country he arrived in his father's empire. Here he found
new people, new towns, and every thing so much changed that he could
not recognize it. At last he came to the palace where he was born.
When he dismounted, the horse kissed his hand, and said:
"I wish you good health, master, I'm going back to the place from
which I came. If you want to go too, mount quickly, and we'll be off."
"Farewell, I too hope to return soon."
The horse darted away with the speed of an arrow.
When the prince saw the ruined palace and the weeds growing around it,
he sighed deeply and with tears in his eyes tried to remember how
magnificent these places had once been. He walked around the building
two or three times, tried to recollect how every room, every corner
had looked, found the stable where he had discovered the horse, and
then went down into the cellar, whose entrance was choked up with
fallen rubbish.
He groped hither and thither, holding up his eyelids with his hands,
and scarcely able to totter along, while his snowy beard now fell to
his knees, but found nothing except a dilapidated old chest, which he
opened. It seemed empty, but as he raised the lid a voice from the
bottom said: "Welcome, if you had kept me waiting much longer, I too
should have gone to decay."
Then his death, which had become completely shriveled in the chest,
seized him; but the prince fell lifeless on the ground and instantly
crumbled into dust.
Into the saddle then I sprung,
The tale to tell to old and young.
The Little Purse with two Half-pennies.
There was once an old man and an old woman. The old woman had a hen
and the old man had a rooster; the old woman's hen laid two eggs a day
and she ate a great many, but she would not give the old man a single
one. One day the old man lost patience and said: "Listen, old crony,
you live as if you were in clover, give me a couple of eggs so that I
can at least have a taste of them."
"No indeed!" replied the old woman, who was very avaricious. "If you
want eggs, beat your rooster that he may lay eggs for you, and then
eat them; I flogged my hen, and just see how she lays now."
The old man, being stingy and greedy, listened to the old woman's
talk, angrily seized his rooster, gave him a sound thrashing and said:
"There, now, lay some eggs for me or else go out of the house, I won't
feed you for nothing any longer."
As soon as the rooster escaped from the old man's hands it ran off
down the high-road. While thus pursuing its way, lo and behold! it
found a little purse with two half-pennies. Taking it in its beak, the
bird turned and went back toward the old man's house. On the road it
met a carriage containing a gentleman and several ladies. The
gentleman looked at the rooster, saw a purse in its bill, and said to
the driver:
"Get down and see what this rooster has in its beak."
The driver hastily jumped from his box, took the little purse from the
rooster's bill, and gave it to his master. The gentleman put it in his
pocket and drove on. The rooster was very angry and ran after the
carriage, repeating continually:
"Kikeriki, sir, Kikerikak,
To me the little purse give back."
The enraged gentleman said to the coachman as they passed a well:
"Take that impudent rooster and throw it into the well."
The driver got down from his box again, seized the rooster, and flung
it down the well. When the rooster saw that its life was in such great
danger, what was it to do?
It began to swallow the water, and drank and drank till it had
swallowed all the water in the well. Then it flew out and again ran
after the carriage, calling:
"Kikeriki, sir, Kikerikak,
To me the little purse give back."
When the gentleman saw this, he was perfectly amazed and said:
"Hoho! This rooster is a perfect imp of Satan! Never mind! I'll wring
your neck, you saucy cockerel!" When he reached home he told the cook
to take the rooster, throw it on the coals burning upon the hearth,
and push a big stone in front of the opening in the chimney. The old
woman did what her master bade her.
When the rooster saw this new injustice, it began to spit out the
water it had swallowed till it had poured all the water from the well
upon the burning coals. This put out the fire, cooled the hearth, and
made such a flood on the kitchen floor that the cook fainted away from
pure rage. Then the rooster gave the stone a push, came out safe and
sound, ran to the gentleman's window, and began to knock on the panes
with its bill, screaming:
"Kikeriki, sir, Kikerikak,
To me the little purse give back."
"Heaven knows that I've got a torment in this monster of a rooster,"
said the gentleman. "Driver, rid me of it, toss it into the middle of
the herds of cows and oxen; perhaps some bull will stick its horns
through it and relieve us." The coachman seized the rooster and flung
it among the herds. You ought to have seen the rooster's delight. It
swallowed bulls, oxen, cows, and calves, till it had devoured the
whole herd and its stomach had grown as big as a mountain. Then it
went to the window again, spread out its wings before the sun so that
it darkened the gentleman's room, and once more began:
"Kikeriki, sir, Kikerikak,
To me the little purse give back."
When the gentleman saw this he was ready to burst with rage and did
not know what to do to get rid of the rooster. He stood thinking till
at last an idea entered his head:
"I'll lock it up in the treasure-chamber. Perhaps if it tries to
swallow the ducats one will stick in its throat, and I shall get rid
of the bird." No sooner said than done. He grasped the rooster and
flung it into the treasure-chamber. The rooster swallowed all the
money and left the chests empty. Then it escaped from the room, went
to the gentleman's window, and again began:
"Kikeriki, sir, Kikerikak,
To me the little purse give back."
As the gentleman saw that there was nothing else to be done he tossed
the purse out. The rooster picked it up, went about its own business,
and left the gentleman in peace. All the poultry ran after the rooster
so that it really looked like a wedding; but the gentleman turned
green with rage as he watched, and said sighing:
"Let them all run off to the last chick, I'm glad to be rid of the
torment; there was witchcraft in that rooster!"
But the puffed-up rooster stalked proudly along, followed by all the
fowls, and went merrily on and on till he reached the old man's house
and began to crow: "Kikeriki!"
When the old man heard the rooster's voice he ran out joyfully to meet
the bird, but looking through the door what did he see? His rooster
had become a terrible object. An elephant beside it would have seemed
like a flea; and following behind came countless flocks of birds, each
one more beautiful and brilliant than the other. When the old man saw
the rooster so huge and fat, he opened the gate for it. "Master," said
the bird, "spread a sheet here in the middle of the yard."
The old man, as nimble as a top, laid down the sheet. The rooster took
its stand upon it, spread its wings, and instantly the whole yard was
filled with birds and herds of cattle, but it shook out on the sheet a
pile of ducats that flashed in the sun till they dazzled the eyes.
When the old man beheld this vast treasure he did not know what to do
in his delight, and hugged and kissed the rooster.
But all at once the old woman appeared from somewhere, and when she
saw this marvelous spectacle her eyes glittered in her head, and she
was ready to burst with wrath.
"Dear old friend," she said, "give me a few ducats."
"Pine away with longing for them, old woman; when I begged you for
some eggs, you know what you answered. Now flog your hen, that it may
bring you ducats. I beat my rooster, and you see what it has fetched
me."
The old woman went to the hen-coop, shook the hen, took it by the
tail, and gave it such a drubbing that it was enough to make one weep
for pity. When the poor hen escaped from the old woman's hands it fled
to the highway. While walking along it found a bead, swallowed it,
hurried back home as fast as possible, and began to cackle at the
gate. The old woman welcomed it joyfully. The hen ran quickly in at
the gate, passed its mistress, and went to its nest--at the end of an
hour it jumped off, cackling loudly. The old woman hastened to see
what the hen had laid. But when she glanced into the nest what did she
perceive? A little glass bead. The hen had laid a glass bead! When the
old woman saw that the hen had fooled her, she began to beat it, and
beat till she flogged it to death. So the stupid old soul remained as
poor as a church-mouse. From that time she might live on roast nothing
and golden wait a while, instead of eggs, for she had abused and
killed the poor hen, though it was not at all to blame.
But the old man was very rich; he built great houses, laid out
beautiful gardens, and lived luxuriously. He made the old woman his
poultry-maid, the rooster he took about with him everywhere, dressed
in a gold collar, yellow boots, and spurs on its heels, so that one
might have thought it was one of the Three Kings from the Christmas
play instead of a mere ordinary rooster.
Mogarzea and His Son.
There was once a young lad who had neither father nor mother. Every
thing his parents had left him was in the care of guardians, and at
last he could bear their unjust reproaches no longer, but went out
into the wide world, entered a path leading to a glade in the forest,
and followed it a long way.
When, in the evening, he grew tired and found no place to rest, he
climbed a hill and gazed around him in every direction to try to
discover a light; after a long search he saw the flicker of a tiny
spark and went toward it. He walked and walked half the night, then he
came to a huge fire, by which a man as big as a giant was sleeping.
What was the youth to do? After thinking a while, he crept into one
leg of the man's trowsers and spent the rest of the night there.
When the man rose the next morning, to his great astonishment, he saw
the youngster drop out of his breeches.
"Where did you come from?" he asked.
"I was sent to you for a son last night," replied the lad.
"If that is true," said the big man, "you may tend my sheep, and I'll
give you something to eat, but beware that you don't cross the
boundaries, or woe betide you!"
He pointed out to the boy the end of his land, and then added:
"God be with you!"
The lad tended the flock all day, and when he returned in the evening
found the fire lighted, and helped the giant milk the sheep.
After their work was done, they sat down to supper, and while they
were eating the boy asked:
"What is your name, father?"
"Mogarzea," replied the big fellow.
"I wonder you don't get tired of staying here alone in this
wilderness."
"Then you wonder without cause. Don't you know that the bear never
dances willingly?"
"Yes, you're right there," replied the boy. "But I see that you are
always dull and sad. Tell me your story, father."
"What can be the use of telling you things that would make you
sorrowful too?"
"Never mind, I should like to know them. Are you not my father? Do you
suppose you have me as a son for nothing?"
"Well then, if that's true and you wish it, listen to my story.
"My name, as I have already told you, is Mogarzea; I am a prince, and
set out to go to the Sweet-milk Lake, which is not far from here, to
marry a fairy. I had heard that three fairies lived there. But Fortune
did not smile upon me; wicked elves attacked me and took away my soul.
Since that time I have settled here to dwell with my sheep on this
little patch of land, without being able to take pleasure in any
thing, without having a moment's happiness, or even once enjoying a
laugh.
"The abominable elves are so quarrelsome that they let no one who
crosses their frontiers go unpunished. That's why I advise you to be
on your guard, lest something should happen to you also."
"All right, all right, just let me alone, father," replied the youth,
and they went to rest.
When day dawned, the lad rose and set off with the flock. I don't know
how or why, but he could not feel content to gaze at the elves'
beautiful meadows, while the sheep were grazing on Mogarzea's barren
ground.
On the third day, when he was standing in the shade of a tree playing
on the flute, for he was, as it were, a master of the art of flute
playing, one of the sheep strayed away into the flowery meadows,
others followed, then others, till, when the youth noticed them, a
number of the animals had crossed the boundaries.
Still playing on his flute, he went to drive back the sheep which had
left the flock, but he suddenly saw before him three merry maidens,
who stopped him and began to dance around him. When the lad
discovered the state of affairs, he summoned up his courage and blew
with all his might. They danced until the evening.
"Let me go now," he said, "poor Mogarzea will be hungry; to-morrow, if
you wish, I'll play still better."
"We will let you go," they replied, "but you know that if you don't
come you will not escape our punishment."
So they agreed that he was to come directly to them the next morning,
sheep and all, then each went home. Mogarzea wondered why the milk had
increased so much, and was not satisfied until the lad assured him
that he had not crossed the boundaries. They ate their supper and went
to rest.
The youth did not wait till it had become perfectly light, but at the
first streak of dawn set off with the sheep straight to the elves'
meadows. When he began to play on his flute, the elves instantly
appeared and danced and danced till evening. Then the youth pretended
to drop the flute and, as if by accident, stepped upon it and broke
it.
If you could have seen how he bewailed it, how he wrung his hands and
wept over the loss of his companion, you would surely have pitied him.
Even the elves were touched with compassion and tried to comfort him.
"I wouldn't care so much," he said, "only I shall never find another
flute that will sound as merry as this one, for it was made out of the
heart of a seven-year-old cherry tree."
"We have, in the court-yard, a cherry tree that is just seven years
old; if you want it, come, we'll cut it down and you can make yourself
another flute."
They all went there, felled the cherry tree, and for fear of touching
the pith while stripping off the bark, the youth requested all the
elves to help.
After having made a cleft in the trunk with his ax, large enough for
them to get their fingers in, he told them to take hold of it in order
to break it apart solely by the strength of their arms, that the blade
of the ax might not touch the pith of the wood. They were actually
stupid enough to do so as they stood around the trunk, and, while
saying "pull," he drew out the ax and caught their fingers in the
crack.
In vain the elves begged him to release them, in vain they said that
they were almost faint with pain; the lad would not even listen to the
fine promises they made, but remained as cold as a stone.
Finally he asked them for Mogarzea's soul.
"It is in a bottle on the window-sill," they said.
After he had fetched it, he inquired how he could restore it to its
place, and the elves explained, hoping he would then release them from
their torture.
"You have tormented many people so that they suffered terrible agony
all their lives; now you too can suffer for one night, it won't make
the sky fall."
With these words he took the sheep and Mogarzea's soul and departed;
but the elves wailed so that any one's heart might have been torn with
pity. When he reached home, Mogarzea scolded him for being late. The
boy's only reply was to ask him to lie down on his back, then
climbing upon his breast he jumped up and down several times, until
the lazy soul the elves had conjured into him darted out and the
youngster gave him his own to swallow; holding his mouth and nose with
his hands he made him drink the water that had been in the bottle, and
then put on a plaster he had brought from the elves.
He had scarcely got it on, when Mogarzea sprang up like a deer and
said:
"Whether you are my son or not, what do you want as a reward for what
you have done?"
"Tell me where the Milk Lake is, and what I am to do to obtain one of
the three fairies who are there for my wife, and let me be your son
forever."
Mogarzea granted the lad's wishes and they sat down to supper without
his wondering how the sheep gave so much milk; all night long they
amused themselves by shouting, singing and dancing.
Noticing that dawn was approaching before they had gone to rest, they
resolved to set out together to pay a visit to the cheated elves,--and
did so. When Mogarzea saw them, he took them, log and all, on his back
and went to his father's kingdom, where every body rejoiced when he
came home as brave and cheery as ever. But he pointed out his
deliverer, who was following behind with the sheep.
Then they all thanked the lad for his cleverness in rescuing Mogarzea
from misfortune, and the festivities at the palace lasted three whole
days.
After these three days had passed, the boy took Mogarzea aside and
said:
"I want to go now; please tell me where the Sweet-milk Lake is, and,
God willing, I'll come back again with my wife."
At first Mogarzea tried to detain him, but finding it no use to talk
till he was tired, he told him what he had heard--he had seen nothing,
on account of the elves.
The boy took his flute and some food for the journey, and then,
departing, walked three long summer days until the evening, before he
reached the Milk Lake, which was in a fairy's kingdom. Early the next
morning he began to play on his flute at the edge of the lake,--and
what did he see? A beautiful fairy, whose hair was exactly like gold,
and whose clothes were more costly than any he had ever seen; she was
more dazzling than the sun as she began to dance. The boy stood
motionless with his eyes fixed upon her, but when the fairy noticed
that he was no longer playing she vanished. The next day she did the
same thing. On the third, still playing, he approached, and as in the
pleasure of dancing she did not notice it, he suddenly rushed upon
her, clasped her in his arms, kissed her, and snatched the rose from
her head.
She screamed and then begged him to give her back the flower, but he
refused. Even wood and stone might have wept over her grief, as she
lamented and entreated. But when he fastened the rose in his hat, she
followed him.
Finding that he could not be persuaded to restore the rose, they
agreed to be married. So they went to Mogarzea, to be wedded by the
emperor, and remained there, but every year in the month of May they
returned to the Milk Lake to bathe their children in its waves.
After the emperor's death Mogarzea divided the kingdom with his
preserver.
Cunning Ileane.
Once upon a time something happened. If it had not happened, it would
not be told.
There was once an emperor who had three daughters; the oldest was
beautiful, the middle one more beautiful, but the youngest, Ileane,
was so fair that even the sun stopped to gaze at her and admire her
charms.
One day the emperor received the news that his neighbor, a mighty
monarch, was no longer friendly, but wanted to fight with him on
account of a great imperial feud. The emperor consulted the old men of
the country, and, seeing there was nothing else to be done, he
commanded his valiant soldiers to mount their horses, take their
weapons, and prepare for the terrible battle which was to be fought.
Before mounting himself, the emperor called his daughters, addressed a
few fatherly, touching words to them, and gave each one a beautiful
flower, a merry little bird, and a rosy-cheeked apple.
"Whoever has her flower wither, her bird mope or her apple rot, I
shall know has not kept her faith," said the wise emperor; then
mounting his steed he wished them "Good-health" and set off with his
brave soldiers on their toilsome way.
When the neighboring emperor's three sons heard the news that the
emperor had quitted his home and gone to the war, they made an
agreement among themselves and sprang on their horses to ride to the
palace and vex the monarch by making his three daughters faithless to
his trust. The oldest prince, a brave, spirited, handsome fellow, went
first to see how matters stood and bring tidings afterward to the
others.
Three days and three nights the champion stood under the wall, but not
one of the girls had appeared at the windows. In the gray dawn of the
fourth day he lost patience, plucked up his courage, and tapped on the
oldest princess's window.
"What is it--what is it? What is wanted?" asked the royal maiden,
roused from her sleep.
"It is I, little sister," said the prince, "I, an emperor's son, who
have stood under your window three days for love of you."
The princess did not even approach the window, but replied in a
prudent tone:
"Go back home by the way you came; may flowers spring up before you
and thorns remain behind."
After three more days and nights the prince again knocked on the
girl's window. This time the princess approached it, and said in a
more gentle voice:
"I told you to go back home by the way you came; may thorns spring up
before you and flowers remain behind."
Once more the prince waited three days and three nights under the
maiden's window. In the gray dawn of the tenth day, that is after
thrice three days and thrice three nights had passed, he smoothed his
hair and for the third time tapped on the window.
"What is it? Who is it? What is wanted?" asked the princess, this time
somewhat more sternly than before.
"It is I, little sister," said the prince. "For thrice three days I
have stood longingly under your window. I would like to see your face,
gaze into your eyes, and watch the words flow from your lips!"
The princess opened the window, glanced angrily at the handsome youth,
and said in a scarcely audible voice:
"I would willingly look into your face and say a word or two to you,
but first go to my younger sister--then come to me."
"I'll send my younger brother," replied the prince. "But give me one
kiss to make my way home pleasanter."
And almost before he had spoken, he snatched a kiss from the beautiful
girl.
"May no second one fall to your lot," said the princess, wiping her
mouth with her embroidered sleeve. "Go back home by the way you came;
may flowers spring up before you and flowers remain behind."
The prince went back to his brothers and told them all that had
happened, and the second took his departure.
After this prince had stood under the second princess's window nine
times nine days and nine times nine nights and tapped for the ninth
time at her window, she opened it and said to him kindly:
"I would like to look at you and say a word or two to you, but first
go to my youngest sister, then come to me."
"I'll send my youngest brother," said the prince. "But give me one
kiss, that I may hurry the faster."
He had scarcely said it, when he stole a kiss.