how she and four like-minded companions had met at the old Kirk on the
moor and had mounted branches of the green bay tree and stalks of
hemlock, which had instantly changed into horses, and how they had
ridden, swift as the wind, over the country, hunting the foxes, and the
weasels, and the owls; and how at last they had swam the Forth and come
to the top of Bell Lomond. And how there they had dismounted from their
horses, and drunk beer that had been brewed in no earthly brewery, out
of horn cups that had been fashioned by no mortal hands.
And how, after that, a wee, wee man had jumped up from under a great
mossy stone, with a tiny set of bagpipes under his arm, and how he had
piped such wonderful music, that, at the sound of it, the very trouts
jumped out of the Loch below, and the stoats crept out of their holes,
and the corby crows and the herons came and sat on the trees in the
darkness, to listen. And how all the Witches danced until they were so
weary that, when the time came for them to mount their steeds again, if
they would be home before cock-crow, they could scarce sit on them for
fatigue.
[Illustration: Ridden and Ridden--Till they Reached the land of the
Lapps]
The Goodman listened to this long story in silence, shaking his head
meanwhile, and, when it was finished, all that he answered was: "And
what the better are ye for all your dancing? Ye'd have been a deal more
comfortable at home."
At the next new moon the old wife went off again for the night; and when
she returned in the morning she told her husband how, on this occasion,
she and her friends had taken cockle-shells for boats, and had sailed
away over the stormy sea till they reached Norway. And there they had
mounted invisible horses of wind, and had ridden and ridden, over
mountains and glens, and glaciers, till they reached the land of the
Lapps lying under its mantle of snow.
And here all the Elves, and Fairies, and Mermaids of the North were
holding festival with Warlocks, and Brownies, and Pixies, and even the
Phantom Hunters themselves, who are never looked upon by mortal eyes.
And the Witches from Fife held festival with them, and danced, and
feasted, and sang with them, and, what was of more consequence, they
learned from them certain wonderful words, which, when they uttered
them, would bear them through the air, and would undo all bolts and
bars, and so gain them admittance to any place soever where they wanted
to be. And after that they had come home again, delighted with the
knowledge which they had acquired.
"What took ye to siccan a land as that?" asked the old man, with a
contemptuous grunt. "Ye would hae been a sight warmer in your bed."
But when his wife returned from her next adventure, he showed a little
more interest in her doings.
For she told him how she and her friends had met in the cottage of one
of their number, and how, having heard that the Lord Bishop of Carlisle
had some very rare wine in his cellar, they had placed their feet on the
crook from which the pot hung, and had pronounced the magic words which
they had learned from the Elves of Lappland. And, lo and behold! they
flew up the chimney like whiffs of smoke, and sailed through the air
like little wreathes of cloud, and in less time than it takes to tell
they landed at the Bishop's Palace at Carlisle.
And the bolts and the bars flew loose before them, and they went down to
his cellar and sampled his wine, and were back in Fife, fine, sober, old
women by cock-crow.
When he heard this, the old man started from his chair in right earnest,
for he loved good wine above all things, and it was but seldom that it
came his way.
"By my troth, but thou art a wife to be proud of!" he cried. "Tell me
the words, Woman! and I will e'en go and sample his Lordship's wine for
myself."
But the Goodwife shook her head. "Na, na! I cannot do that," she said,
"for if I did, an' ye telled it over again, 'twould turn the whole world
upside down. For everybody would be leaving their own lawful work, and
flying about the world after other folk's business and other folk's
dainties. So just bide content, Goodman. Ye get on fine with the
knowledge ye already possess."
And although the old man tried to persuade her with all the soft words
he could think of, she would not tell him her secret.
But he was a sly old man, and the thought of the Bishop's wine gave him
no rest. So night after night he went and hid in the old woman's
cottage, in the hope that his wife and her friends would meet there; and
although for a long time it was all in vain, at last his trouble was
rewarded. For one evening the whole five old women assembled, and in low
tones and with chuckles of laughter they recounted all that had befallen
them in Lappland. Then, running to the fireplace, they, one after
another, climbed on a chair and put their feet on the sooty crook. Then
they repeated the magic words, and, hey, presto! they were up the lum
and away before the old man could draw his breath.
"I can do that, too," he said to himself; and he crawled out of his
hiding-place and ran to the fire. He put his foot on the crook and
repeated the words, and up the chimney he went, and flew through the air
after his wife and her companions, as if he had been a Warlock born.
And, as Witches are not in the habit of looking over their shoulders,
they never noticed that he was following them, until they reached the
Bishop's Palace and went down into his cellar, then, when they found
that he was among them, they were not too well pleased.
However, there was no help for it, and they settled down to enjoy
themselves. They tapped this cask of wine, and they tapped that,
drinking a little of each, but not too much; for they were cautious old
women, and they knew that if they wanted to get home before cock-crow it
behoved them to keep their heads clear.
But the old man was not so wise, for he sipped, and he sipped, until at
last he became quite drowsy, and lay down on the floor and fell fast
asleep.
And his wife, seeing this, thought that she would teach him a lesson not
to be so curious in the future. So, when she and her four friends
thought that it was time to be gone, she departed without waking him.
He slept peacefully for some hours, until two of the Bishop's servants,
coming down to the cellar to draw wine for their Master's table, almost
fell over him in the darkness. Greatly astonished at his presence there,
for the cellar door was fast locked, they dragged him up to the light
and shook him, and cuffed him, and asked him how he came to be there.
And the poor old man was so confused at being awakened in this rough
way, and his head seemed to whirl round so fast, that all he could
stammer out was, "that he came from Fife, and that he had travelled on
the midnight wind."
As soon as they heard that, the men servants cried out that he was a
Warlock, and they dragged him before the Bishop, and, as Bishops in
those days had a holy horror of Warlocks and Witches, he ordered him to
be burned alive.
When the sentence was pronounced, you may be very sure that the poor old
man wished with all his heart that he had stayed quietly at home in bed,
and never hankered after the Bishop's wine.
But it was too late to wish that now, for the servants dragged him out
into the courtyard, and put a chain round his waist, and fastened it to
a great iron stake, and they piled faggots of wood round his feet and
set them alight.
As the first tiny little tongue of flame crept up, the poor old man
thought that his last hour had come. But when he thought that, he forgot
completely that his wife was a Witch.
[Illustration: His chains fell off, and he mounted in the air,--up and
up--]
For, just as the little tongue of flame began to singe his
breeches, there was a swish and a flutter in the air, and a great Grey
Bird, with outstretched wings, appeared in the sky, and swooped down
suddenly, and perched for a moment on the old man's shoulder.
And in this Grey Bird's mouth was a little red pirnie, which, to
everyone's amazement, it popped on to the prisoner's head. Then it gave
one fierce croak, and flew away again, but to the old man's ears that
croak was the sweetest music that he had ever heard.
For to him it was the croak of no earthly bird, but the voice of his
wife whispering words of magic to him. And when he heard them he jumped
for joy, for he knew that they were words of deliverance, and he shouted
them aloud, and his chains fell off, and he mounted in the air--up and
up--while the onlookers watched him in awestruck silence.
He flew right away to the Kingdom of Fife, without as much as saying
good-bye to them; and when he found himself once more safely at home,
you may be very sure that he never tried to find out his wife's secrets
again, but left her alone to her own devices.
ASSIPATTLE AND THE MESTER STOORWORM
In far bygone days, in the North, there lived a well-to-do farmer, who
had seven sons and one daughter. And the youngest of these seven sons
bore a very curious name; for men called him Assipattle, which means,
"He who grovels among the ashes."
Perhaps Assipattle deserved his name, for he was rather a lazy boy, who
never did any work on the farm as his brothers did, but ran about the
doors with ragged clothes and unkempt hair, and whose mind was ever
filled with wondrous stories of Trolls and Giants, Elves and Goblins.
When the sun was hot in the long summer afternoons, when the bees droned
drowsily and even the tiny insects seemed almost asleep, the boy was
content to throw himself down on the ash-heap amongst the ashes, and lie
there, lazily letting them run through his fingers, as one might play
with sand on the sea-shore, basking in the sunshine and telling stories
to himself.
And his brothers, working hard in the fields, would point to him with
mocking fingers, and laugh, and say to each other how well the name
suited him, and of how little use he was in the world.
And when they came home from their work, they would push him about and
tease him, and even his mother would make him sweep the floor, and draw
water from the well, and fetch peats from the peat-stack, and do all the
little odd jobs that nobody else would do.
So poor Assipattle had rather a hard life of it, and he would often have
been very miserable had it not been for his sister, who loved him
dearly, and who would listen quite patiently to all the stories that he
had to tell; who never laughed at him or told him that he was telling
lies, as his brothers did.
But one day a very sad thing happened--at least, it was a sad thing for
poor Assipattle.
For it chanced that the King of these parts had one only daughter, the
Princess Gemdelovely, whom he loved dearly, and to whom he denied
nothing. And Princess Gemdelovely was in want of a waiting-maid, and as
she had seen Assipattle's sister standing by the garden gate as she was
riding by one day, and had taken a fancy to her, she asked her father if
she might ask her to come and live at the Castle and serve her.
Her father agreed at once, as he always did agree to any of her wishes;
and sent a messenger in haste to the farmer's house to ask if his
daughter would come to the Castle to be the Princess's waiting-maid.
And, of course, the farmer was very pleased at the piece of good fortune
which had befallen the girl, and so was her mother, and so were her six
brothers, all except poor Assipattle, who looked with wistful eyes after
his sister as she rode away, proud of her new clothes and of the rivlins
which her father had made her out of cowhide, which she was to wear in
the Palace when she waited on the Princess, for at home she always ran
barefoot.
Time passed, and one day a rider rode in hot haste through the country
bearing the most terrible tidings. For the evening before, some
fishermen, out in their boats, had caught sight of the Mester Stoorworm,
which, as everyone knows, was the largest, and the first, and the
greatest of all Sea-Serpents. It was that beast which, in the Good Book,
is called the Leviathan, and if it had been measured in our day, its
tail would have touched Iceland, while its snout rested on the North
Cape.
And the fishermen had noticed that this fearsome Monster had its head
turned towards the mainland, and that it opened its mouth and yawned
horribly, as if to show that it was hungry, and that, if it were not
fed, it would kill every living thing upon the land, both man and beast,
bird and creeping thing.
For 'twas well known that its breath was so poisonous that it consumed
as with a burning fire everything that it lighted on. So that, if it
pleased the awful creature to lift its head and put forth its breath,
like noxious vapour, over the country, in a few weeks the fair land
would be turned into a region of desolation.
As you may imagine, everyone was almost paralysed with terror at this
awful calamity which threatened them; and the King called a solemn
meeting of all his Counsellors, and asked them if they could devise any
way of warding off the danger.
And for three whole days they sat in Council, these grave, bearded men,
and many were the suggestions which were made, and many the words of
wisdom which were spoken; but, alas! no one was wise enough to think of
a way by which the Mester Stoorworm might be driven back.
At last, at the end of the third day, when everyone had given up hope of
finding a remedy, the door of the Council Chamber opened and the Queen
appeared.
Now the Queen was the King's second wife, and she was not a favourite in
the Kingdom, for she was a proud, insolent woman, who did not behave
kindly to her step-daughter, the Princess Gemdelovely, and who spent
much more of her time in the company of a great Sorcerer, whom everyone
feared and dreaded, than she did in that of the King, her husband.
So the sober Counsellors looked at her disapprovingly as she came boldly
into the Council Chamber and stood up beside the King's Chair of State,
and, speaking in a loud, clear voice, addressed them thus:
"Ye think that ye are brave men and strong, oh, ye Elders, and fit to be
the Protectors of the People. And so it may be, when it is mortals that
ye are called on to face. But ye be no match for the foe that now
threatens our land. Before him your weapons be but as straw. 'Tis not
through strength of arm, but through sorcery, that he will be overcome.
So listen to my words, even though they be but those of a woman, and
take counsel with the great Sorcerer, from whom nothing is hid, but who
knoweth all the mysteries of the earth, and of the air, and of the sea."
Now the King and his Counsellors liked not this advice, for they hated
the Sorcerer, who had, as they thought, too much influence with the
Queen; but they were at their wits' end, and knew not to whom to turn
for help, so they were fain to do as she said and summon the Wizard
before them.
And when he obeyed the summons and appeared in their midst, they liked
him none the better for his looks. For he was long, and thin, and
awesome, with a beard that came down to his knee, and hair that wrapped
him about like a mantle, and his face was the colour of mortar, as if he
had always lived in darkness, and had been afraid to look on the sun.
But there was no help to be found in any other man, so they laid the
case before him, and asked him what they should do. And he answered
coldly that he would think over the matter, and come again to the
Assembly the following day and give them his advice.
And his advice, when they heard it, was like to turn their hair white
with horror.
For he said that the only way to satisfy the Monster, and to make it
spare the land, was to feed it every Saturday with seven young maidens,
who must be the fairest who could be found; and if, after this remedy
had been tried once or twice, it did not succeed in mollifying the
Stoorworm and inducing him to depart, there was but one other measure
that he could suggest, but that was so horrible and dreadful that he
would not rend their hearts by mentioning it in the meantime.
And as, although they hated him, they feared him also, the Council had
e'en to abide by his words, and pronounced the awful doom.
And so it came about that, every Saturday, seven bonnie, innocent
maidens were bound hand and foot and laid on a rock which ran into the
sea, and the Monster stretched out his long, jagged tongue, and swept
them into his mouth; while all the rest of the folk looked on from the
top of a high hill--or, at least, the men looked--with cold, set faces,
while the women hid theirs in their aprons and wept aloud.
"Is there no other way," they cried, "no other way than this, to save
the land?"
But the men only groaned and shook their heads. "No other way," they
answered; "no other way."
Then suddenly a boy's indignant voice rang out among the crowd. "Is
there no grown man who would fight that Monster, and kill him, and save
the lassies alive? I would do it; I am not feared for the Mester
Stoorworm."
It was the boy Assipattle who spoke, and everyone looked at him in
amazement as he stood staring at the great Sea-Serpent, his fingers
twitching with rage, and his great blue eyes glowing with pity and
indignation.
"The poor bairn's mad; the sight hath turned his head," they whispered
one to another; and they would have crowded round him to pet and comfort
him, but his elder brother came and gave him a heavy clout on the side
of his head.
"Thou fight the Stoorworm!" he cried contemptuously. "A likely story! Go
home to thy ash-pit, and stop speaking havers;" and, taking his arm, he
drew him to the place where his other brothers were waiting, and they
all went home together.
But all the time Assipattle kept on saying that he meant to kill the
Stoorworm; and at last his brothers became so angry at what they thought
was mere bragging, that they picked up stones and pelted him so hard
with them that at last he took to his heels and ran away from them.
That evening the six brothers were threshing corn in the barn, and
Assipattle, as usual, was lying among the ashes thinking his own
thoughts, when his mother came out and bade him run and tell the others
to come in for their supper.
The boy did as he was bid, for he was a willing enough little fellow;
but when he entered the barn his brothers, in revenge for his having run
away from them in the afternoon, set on him and pulled him down, and
piled so much straw on top of him that, had his father not come from the
house to see what they were all waiting for, he would, of a surety, have
been smothered.
But when, at supper-time, his mother was quarrelling with the other lads
for what they had done, and saying to them that it was only cowards who
set on bairns littler and younger than themselves, Assipattle looked up
from the bicker of porridge which he was supping.
"Vex not thyself, Mother," he said, "for I could have fought them all if
I liked; ay, and beaten them, too."
"Why didst thou not essay it then?" cried everybody at once.
"Because I knew that I would need all my strength when I go to fight the
Giant Stoorworm," replied Assipattle gravely.
And, as you may fancy, the others laughed louder than before.
Time passed, and every Saturday seven lassies were thrown to the
Stoorworm, until at last it was felt that this state of things could not
be allowed to go on any longer; for if it did, there would soon be no
maidens at all left in the country.
So the Elders met once more, and, after long consultation, it was
agreed that the Sorcerer should be summoned, and asked what his other
remedy was. "For, by our troth," said they, "it cannot be worse than
that which we are practising now."
But, had they known it, the new remedy was even more dreadful than the
old. For the cruel Queen hated her step-daughter, Gemdelovely, and the
wicked Sorcerer knew that she did, and that she would not be sorry to
get rid of her, and, things being as they were, he thought that he saw a
way to please the Queen. So he stood up in the Council, and, pretending
to be very sorry, said that the only other thing that could be done was
to give the Princess Gemdelovely to the Stoorworm, then would it of a
surety depart.
When they heard this sentence a terrible stillness fell upon the
Council, and everyone covered his face with his hands, for no man dare
look at the King.
But although his dear daughter was as the apple of his eye, he was a
just and righteous Monarch, and he felt that it was not right that other
fathers should have been forced to part with their daughters, in order
to try and save the country, if his child was to be spared.
So, after he had had speech with the Princess, he stood up before the
Elders, and declared, with trembling voice, that both he and she were
ready to make the sacrifice.
"She is my only child," he said, "and the last of her race. Yet it
seemeth good to both of us that she should lay down her life, if by so
doing she may save the land that she loves so well."
Salt tears ran down the faces of the great bearded men as they heard
their King's words, for they all knew how dear the Princess Gemdelovely
was to him. But it was felt that what he said was wise and true, and
that the thing was just and right; for 'twere better, surely, that one
maiden should die, even although she were of Royal blood, than that
bands of other maidens should go to their death week by week, and all to
no purpose.
So, amid heavy sobs, the aged Lawman--he who was the chief man of the
Council--rose up to pronounce the Princess's doom. But, ere he did so,
the King's Kemper--or Fighting-man--stepped forward.
"Nature teaches us that it is fitting that each beast hath a tail," he
said; "and this Doom, which our Lawman is about to pronounce, is in very
sooth a venomous beast. And, if I had my way, the tail which it would
bear after it is this, that if the Mester Stoorworm doth not depart, and
that right speedily, after he have devoured the Princess, the next thing
that is offered to him be no tender young maiden, but that tough, lean
old Sorcerer."
And at his words there was such a great shout of approval that the
wicked Sorcerer seemed to shrink within himself, and his pale face grew
paler than it was before.
Now, three weeks were allowed between the time that the Doom was
pronounced upon the Princess and the time that it was carried out, so
that the King might send Ambassadors to all the neighbouring Kingdoms to
issue proclamations that, if any Champion would come forward who was
able to drive away the Stoorworm and save the Princess, he should have
her for his wife.
And with her he should have the Kingdom, as well as a very famous sword
that was now in the King's possession, but which had belonged to the
great god Odin, with which he had fought and vanquished all his foes.
The sword bore the name of Sickersnapper, and no man had any power
against it.
The news of all these things spread over the length and breadth of the
land, and everyone mourned for the fate that was like to befall the
Princess Gemdelovely. And the farmer, and his wife, and their six sons
mourned also;--all but Assipattle, who sat amongst the ashes and said
nothing.
When the King's Proclamation was made known throughout the neighbouring
Kingdoms, there was a fine stir among all the young Gallants, for it
seemed but a little thing to slay a Sea-Monster; and a beautiful wife, a
fertile Kingdom, and a trusty sword are not to be won every day.
So six-and-thirty Champions arrived at the King's Palace, each hoping to
gain the prize.
But the King sent them all out to look at the Giant Stoorworm lying in
the sea with its enormous mouth open, and when they saw it, twelve of
them were seized with sudden illness, and twelve of them were so afraid
that they took to their heels and ran, and never stopped till they
reached their own countries; and so only twelve returned to the King's
Palace, and as for them, they were so downcast at the thought of the
task that they had undertaken that they had no spirit left in them at
all.
And none of them dare try to kill the Stoorworm; so the three weeks
passed slowly by, until the night before the day on which the Princess
was to be sacrificed. On that night the King, feeling that he must do
something to entertain his guests, made a great supper for them.
But, as you may think, it was a dreary feast, for everyone was thinking
so much about the terrible thing that was to happen on the morrow, that
no one could eat or drink.