King and his old Kemperman, the King returned to the great hall, and
went slowly up to his Chair of State, high up on the dais. It was not
like the Chairs of State that we know nowadays; it was nothing but a
massive Kist, in which he kept all the things which he treasured most.
The old Monarch undid the iron bolts with trembling fingers, and lifted
the lid, and took out the wondrous sword Sickersnapper, which had
belonged to the great god Odin.
His trusty Kemperman, who had stood by him in a hundred fights, watched
him with pitying eyes.
"Why lift ye out the sword," he said softly, "when thy fighting days are
done? Right nobly hast thou fought thy battles in the past, oh, my Lord!
when thine arm was strong and sure. But when folk's years number four
score and sixteen, as thine do, 'tis time to leave such work to other
and younger men."
The old King turned on him angrily, with something of the old fire in
his eyes. "Wheest," he cried, "else will I turn this sword on thee. Dost
thou think that I can see my only bairn devoured by a Monster, and not
lift a finger to try and save her when no other man will? I tell
thee--and I will swear it with my two thumbs crossed on
Sickersnapper--that both the sword and I will be destroyed before so
much as one of her hairs be touched. So go, an' thou love me, my old
comrade, and order my boat to be ready, with the sail set and the prow
pointed out to sea. I will go myself and fight the Stoorworm; and if I
do not return, I will lay it on thee to guard my cherished daughter.
Peradventure, my life may redeem hers."
Now that night everybody at the farm went to bed betimes, for next
morning the whole family was to set out early, to go to the top of the
hill near the sea, to see the Princess eaten by the Stoorworm. All
except Assipattle, who was to be left at home to herd the geese.
The lad was so vexed at this--for he had great schemes in his head--that
he could not sleep. And as he lay tossing and tumbling about in his
corner among the ashes, he heard his father and mother talking in the
great box-bed. And, as he listened, he found that they were having an
argument.
"'Tis such a long way to the hill overlooking the sea, I fear me I shall
never walk it," said his mother. "I think I had better bide at home."
"Nay," replied her husband, "that would be a bonny-like thing, when all
the country-side is to be there. Thou shalt ride behind me on my good
mare Go-Swift."
"I do not care to trouble thee to take me behind thee," said his wife,
"for methinks thou dost not love me as thou wert wont to do."
"The woman's havering," cried the Goodman of the house impatiently.
"What makes thee think that I have ceased to love thee?"
"Because thou wilt no longer tell me thy secrets," answered his wife.
"To go no further, think of this very horse, Go-Swift. For five long
years I have been begging thee to tell me how it is that, when thou
ridest her, she flies faster than the wind, while if any other man mount
her, she hirples along like a broken-down nag."
The Goodman laughed. "'Twas not for lack of love, Goodwife," he said,
"though it might be lack of trust. For women's tongues wag but loosely;
and I did not want other folk to ken my secret. But since my silence
hath vexed thy heart, I will e'en tell it thee.
"When I want Go-Swift to stand, I give her one clap on the left
shoulder. When I would have her go like any other horse, I give her two
claps on the right. But when I want her to fly like the wind, I whistle
through the windpipe of a goose. And, as I never ken when I want her to
gallop like that, I aye keep the bird's thrapple in the left-hand pocket
of my coat."
"So that is how thou managest the beast," said the farmer's wife, in a
satisfied tone; "and that is what becomes of all my goose thrapples. Oh!
but thou art a clever fellow, Goodman; and now that I ken the way of it
I may go to sleep."
Assipattle was not tumbling about in the ashes now; he was sitting up in
the darkness, with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes.
His opportunity had come at last, and he knew it.
He waited patiently till their heavy breathing told him that his parents
were asleep; then he crept over to where his father's clothes were, and
took the goose's windpipe out of the pocket of his coat, and slipped
noiselessly out of the house. Once he was out of it, he ran like
lightning to the stable. He saddled and bridled Go-Swift, and threw a
halter round her neck, and led her to the stable door.
The good mare, unaccustomed to her new groom, pranced, and reared, and
plunged; but Assipattle, knowing his father's secret, clapped her once
on the left shoulder, and she stood as still as a stone. Then he mounted
her, and gave her two claps on the right shoulder, and the good horse
trotted off briskly, giving a loud neigh as she did so.
The unwonted sound, ringing out in the stillness of the night, roused
the household, and the Goodman and his six sons came tumbling down the
wooden stairs, shouting to one another in confusion that someone was
stealing Go-Swift.
The farmer was the first to reach the door; and when he saw, in the
starlight, the vanishing form of his favourite steed, he cried at the
top of his voice:
"Stop thief, ho!
Go-Swift, whoa!"
And when Go-Swift heard that she pulled up in a moment. All seemed lost,
for the farmer and his sons could run very fast indeed, and it seemed to
Assipattle, sitting motionless on Go-Swift's back, that they would very
soon make up on him.
But, luckily, he remembered the goose's thrapple, and he pulled it out
of his pocket and whistled through it. In an instant the good mare
bounded forward, swift as the wind, and was over the hill and out of
reach of its pursuers before they had taken ten steps more.
Day was dawning when the lad came within sight of the sea; and there, in
front of him, in the water, lay the enormous Monster whom he had come so
far to slay. Anyone would have said that he was mad even to dream of
making such an attempt, for he was but a slim, unarmed youth, and the
Mester Stoorworm was so big that men said it would reach the fourth part
round the world. And its tongue was jagged at the end like a fork, and
with this fork it could sweep whatever it chose into its mouth, and
devour it at its leisure.
For all this, Assipattle was not afraid, for he had the heart of a hero
underneath his tattered garments. "I must be cautious," he said to
himself, "and do by my wits what I cannot do by my strength."
He climbed down from his seat on Go-Swift's back, and tethered the good
steed to a tree, and walked on, looking well about him, till he came to
a little cottage on the edge of a wood.
The door was not locked, so he entered, and found its occupant, an old
woman, fast asleep in bed. He did not disturb her, but he took down an
iron pot from the shelf, and examined it closely.
"This will serve my purpose," he said; "and surely the old dame would
not grudge it if she knew 'twas to save the Princess's life."
Then he lifted a live peat from the smouldering fire, and went his way.
Down at the water's edge he found the King's boat lying, guarded by a
single boatman, with its sails set and its prow turned in the direction
of the Mester Stoorworm.
"It's a cold morning," said Assipattle. "Art thou not well-nigh frozen
sitting there? If thou wilt come on shore, and run about, and warm
thyself, I will get into the boat and guard it till thou returnest."
"A likely story," replied the man. "And what would the King say if he
were to come, as I expect every moment he will do, and find me playing
myself on the sand, and his good boat left to a smatchet like thee?
'Twould be as much as my head is worth."
"As thou wilt," answered Assipattle carelessly, beginning to search
among the rocks. "In the meantime, I must be looking for a wheen mussels
to roast for my breakfast." And after he had gathered the mussels, he
began to make a hole in the sand to put the live peat in. The boatman
watched him curiously, for he, too, was beginning to feel hungry.
Presently the lad gave a wild shriek, and jumped high in the air. "Gold,
gold!" he cried. "By the name of Thor, who would have looked to find
gold here?"
This was too much for the boatman. Forgetting all about his head and the
King, he jumped out of the boat, and, pushing Assipattle aside, began to
scrape among the sand with all his might.
[Illustration: Assipattle, sailing slowly over the sea]
While he was doing so, Assipattle seized his pot, jumped into the boat,
pushed her off, and was half a mile out to sea before the outwitted man,
who, needless to say, could find no gold, noticed what he was about.
And, of course, he was very angry, and the old King was more angry still
when he came down to the shore, attended by his Nobles and carrying the
great sword Sickersnapper, in the vain hope that he, poor feeble old man
that he was, might be able in some way to defeat the Monster and save
his daughter.
But to make such an attempt was beyond his power now that his boat was
gone. So he could only stand on the shore, along with the fast
assembling crowd of his subjects, and watch what would befall.
And this was what befell!
Assipattle, sailing slowly over the sea, and watching the Mester
Stoorworm intently, noticed that the terrible Monster yawned
occasionally, as if longing for his weekly feast. And as it yawned a
great flood of sea-water went down its throat, and came out again at its
huge gills.
So the brave lad took down his sail, and pointed the prow of his boat
straight at the Monster's mouth, and the next time it yawned he and his
boat were sucked right in, and, like Jonah, went straight down its
throat into the dark regions inside its body. On and on the boat
floated; but as it went the water grew less, pouring out of the
Stoorworm's gills, till at last it stuck, as it were, on dry land. And
Assipattle jumped out, his pot in his hand, and began to explore.
Presently he came to the huge creature's liver, and having heard that
the liver of a fish is full of oil, he made a hole in it and put in the
live peat.
Woe's me! but there was a conflagration! And Assipattle just got back to
his boat in time; for the Mester Stoorworm, in its convulsions, threw
the boat right out of its mouth again, and it was flung up, high and
dry, on the bare land.
The commotion in the sea was so terrible that the King and his
daughter--who by this time had come down to the shore dressed like a
bride, in white, ready to be thrown to the Monster--and all his
Courtiers, and all the country-folk, were fain to take refuge on the
hill top, out of harm's way, and stand and see what happened next.
And this was what happened next.
The poor, distressed creature--for it was now to be pitied, even
although it was a great, cruel, awful Mester Stoorworm--tossed itself to
and fro, twisting and writhing.
And as it tossed its awful head out of the water its tongue fell out,
and struck the earth with such force that it made a great dent in it,
into which the sea rushed. And that dent formed the crooked Straits
which now divide Denmark from Norway and Sweden.
Then some of its teeth fell out and rested in the sea, and became the
Islands that we now call the Orkney Isles; and a little afterwards some
more teeth dropped out, and they became what we now call the Shetland
Isles.
After that the creature twisted itself into a great lump and died; and
this lump became the Island of Iceland; and the fire which Assipattle
had kindled with his live peat still burns on underneath it, and that is
why there are mountains which throw out fire in that chilly land.
When at last it was plainly seen that the Mester Stoorworm was dead, the
King could scarce contain himself with joy. He put his arms round
Assipattle's neck, and kissed him, and called him his son. And he took
off his own Royal Mantle and put it on the lad, and girded his good
sword Sickersnapper round his waist. And he called his daughter, the
Princess Gemdelovely, to him, and put her hand in his, and declared that
when the right time came she should be his wife, and that he should be
ruler over all the Kingdom.
Then the whole company mounted their horses again, and Assipattle rode
on Go-Swift by the Princess's side; and so they returned, with great
joy, to the King's Palace.
But as they were nearing the gate Assipattle's sister, she who was the
Princess's maid, ran out to meet him, and signed to the Princess to lout
down, and whispered something in her ear.
The Princess's face grew dark, and she turned her horse's head and rode
back to where her father was, with his Nobles. She told him the words
that the maiden had spoken; and when he heard them his face, too, grew
as black as thunder.
For the matter was this: The cruel Queen, full of joy at the thought
that she was to be rid, once for all, of her step-daughter, had been
making love to the wicked Sorcerer all the morning in the old King's
absence.
"He shall be killed at once," cried the Monarch. "Such behaviour cannot
be overlooked."
"Thou wilt have much ado to find him, your Majesty," said the girl, "for
'tis more than an hour since he and the Queen fled together on the
fleetest horses that they could find in the stables."
"But I can find him," cried Assipattle; and he went off like the wind on
his good horse Go-Swift.
It was not long before he came within sight of the fugitives, and he
drew his sword and shouted to them to stop.
They heard the shout, and turned round, and they both laughed aloud in
derision when they saw that it was only the boy who grovelled in the
ashes who pursued them.
"The insolent brat! I will cut off his head for him! I will teach him a
lesson!" cried the Sorcerer; and he rode boldly back to meet Assipattle.
For although he was no fighter, he knew that no ordinary weapon could
harm his enchanted body; therefore he was not afraid.
But he did not count on Assipattle having the Sword of the great god
Odin, with which he had slain all his enemies; and before this magic
weapon he was powerless. And, at one thrust, the young lad ran it
through his body as easily as if he had been any ordinary man, and he
fell from his horse, dead.
Then the Courtiers of the King, who had also set off in pursuit, but
whose steeds were less fleet of foot than Go-Swift, came up, and seized
the bridle of the Queen's horse, and led it and its rider back to the
Palace.
She was brought before the Council, and judged, and condemned to be shut
up in a high tower for the remainder of her life. Which thing surely
came to pass.
As for Assipattle, when the proper time came he was married to the
Princess Gemdelovely, with great feasting and rejoicing. And when the
old King died they ruled the Kingdom for many a long year.
[Illustration]
THE FOX AND THE WOLF
There was once a Fox and a Wolf, who set up house together in a cave
near the sea-shore. Although you may not think so, they got on very well
for a time, for they went out hunting all day, and when they came back
at night they were generally too tired to do anything but to eat their
supper and go to bed.
They might have lived together always had it not been for the slyness
and greediness of the Fox, who tried to over-reach his companion, who
was not nearly so clever as he was.
And this was how it came about.
It chanced, one dark December night, that there was a dreadful storm at
sea, and in the morning the beach was all strewn with wreckage. So as
soon as it was daylight the two friends went down to the shore to see
if they could find anything to eat.
They had the good fortune to light on a great Keg of Butter, which had
been washed overboard from some ship on its way home from Ireland,
where, as all the world knows, folk are famous for their butter.
The simple Wolf danced with joy when he saw it. "Marrowbones and
trotters! but we will have a good supper this night," cried he, licking
his lips. "Let us set to work at once and roll it up to the cave."
But the wily Fox was fond of butter, and he made up his mind that he
would have it all to himself. So he put on his wisest look, and shook
his head gravely.
"Thou hast no prudence, my friend," he said reproachfully, "else wouldst
thou not talk of breaking up a Keg of Butter at this time of year, when
the stackyards are full of good grain, which can be had for the eating,
and the farmyards are stocked with nice fat ducks and poultry. No, no.
It behoveth us to have foresight, and to lay up in store for the spring,
when the grain is all threshed, and the stackyards are bare, and the
poultry have gone to market. So we will e'en bury the Keg, and dig it up
when we have need of it."
Very reluctantly, for he was thinner and hungrier than the Fox, the Wolf
agreed to this proposal. So a hole was dug, and the Keg was buried, and
the two animals went off hunting as usual.
About a week passed by: then one day the Fox came into the cave, and
flung himself down on the ground as if he were very much exhausted. But
if anyone had looked at him closely they would have seen a sly twinkle
in his eye.
"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" he sighed. "Life is a heavy burden."
"What hath befallen thee?" asked the Wolf, who was ever kind and
soft-hearted.
"Some friends of mine, who live over the hills yonder, are wanting me to
go to a christening to-night. Just think of the distance that I must
travel."
"But needst thou go?" asked the Wolf. "Canst thou not send an excuse?"
[Illustration]
"I doubt that no excuse would be accepted," answered the Fox, "for they
asked me to stand god-father. Therefore it behoveth me to do my duty,
and pay no heed to my own feelings."
So that evening the Fox was absent, and the Wolf was alone in the cave.
But it was not to a christening that the sly Fox went; it was to the Keg
of Butter that was buried in the sand. About midnight he returned,
looking fat and sleek, and well pleased with himself.
The Wolf had been dozing, but he looked up drowsily as his companion
entered. "Well, how did they name the bairn?" he asked.
"They gave it a queer name," answered the Fox. "One of the queerest
names that I ever heard."
"And what was that?" questioned the Wolf.
"Nothing less than 'Blaisean' (Let-me-taste)," replied the Fox, throwing
himself down in his corner. And if the Wolf could have seen him in the
darkness he would have noticed that he was laughing to himself.
Some days afterwards the same thing happened. The Fox was asked to
another christening; this time at a place some twenty-five miles along
the shore. And as he had grumbled before, so he grumbled again; but he
declared that it was his duty to go, and he went.
At midnight he came back, smiling to himself and with no appetite for
his supper. And when the Wolf asked him the name of the child, he
answered that it was a more extraordinary name than the other--"Be na
Inheadnon" (Be in its middle).
The very next week, much to the Wolf's wonder, the Fox was asked to yet
another christening. And this time the name of the child was "Sgriot an
Clar" (Scrape the staves). After that the invitations ceased.
Time went on, and the hungry spring came, and the Fox and the Wolf had
their larder bare, for food was scarce, and the weather was bleak and
cold.
"Let us go and dig up the Keg of Butter," said the Wolf. "Methinks that
now is the time we need it."
The Fox agreed--having made up his mind how he would act--and the two
set out to the place where the Keg had been hidden. They scraped away
the sand, and uncovered it; but, needless to say, they found it empty.
"This is thy work," said the Fox angrily, turning to the poor, innocent
Wolf. "Thou hast crept along here while I was at the christenings, and
eaten it up by stealth."
"Not I," replied the Wolf. "I have never been near the spot since the
day that we buried it together."
"But I tell thee it must have been thou," insisted the Fox, "for no
other creature knew it was there except ourselves. And, besides, I can
see by the sleekness of thy fur that thou hast fared well of late."
Which last sentence was both unjust and untrue, for the poor Wolf looked
as lean and badly nourished as he could possibly be.
So back they both went to the cave, arguing all the way. The Fox
declaring that the Wolf _must_ have been the thief, and the Wolf
protesting his innocence.
"Art thou ready to swear to it?" said the Fox at last; though why he
asked such a question, dear only knows.
"Yes, I am," replied the Wolf firmly; and, standing in the middle of
the cave, and holding one paw up solemnly he swore this awful oath:
"If it be that I stole the butter; if it be, if it be--
May a fateful, fell disease fall on me, fall on me."
When he was finished, he put down his paw and, turning to the Fox,
looked at him keenly; for all at once it struck him that his fur looked
sleek and fine.
"It is thy turn now," he said. "I have sworn, and thou must do so also."
The Fox's face fell at these words, for although he was both untruthful
and dishonest now, he had been well brought up in his youth, and he knew
that it was a terrible thing to perjure oneself and swear falsely.
So he made one excuse after another, but the Wolf, who was getting more
and more suspicious every moment, would not listen to him.
So, as he had not courage to tell the truth, he was forced at last to
swear an oath also, and this was what he swore:
"If it be that I stole the butter; if it be, if it be--
Then let some most deadly punishment fall on me, fall on me--
Whirrum wheeckam, whirrum wheeckam,
Whirram whee, whirram whee!"
After he had heard him swear this terrible oath, the Wolf thought that
his suspicions must be groundless, and he would have let the matter
rest; but the Fox, having an uneasy conscience, could not do so. So he
suggested that as it was clear that one of them must have eaten the Keg
of Butter, they should both stand near the fire; so that when they
became hot, the butter would ooze out of the skin of whichever of them
was guilty. And he took care that the Wolf should stand in the hottest
place.
But the fire was big and the cave was small; and while the poor lean
Wolf showed no sign of discomfort, he himself, being nice and fat and
comfortable, soon began to get unpleasantly warm.
As this did not suit him at all, he next proposed that they should go
for a walk, "for," said he, "it is now quite plain that neither of us
can have taken the butter. It must have been some stranger who hath
found out our secret."
But the Wolf had seen the Fox beginning to grow greasy, and he knew now
what had happened, and he determined to have his revenge. So he waited
until they came to a smithy which stood at the side of the road, where a
horse was waiting just outside the door to be shod.
Then, keeping at a safe distance, he said to his companion, "There is
writing on that smithy door, which I cannot read, as my eyes are
failing; do thou try to read it, for perchance it may be something
'twere good for us to know."
And the silly Fox, who was very vain, and did not like to confess that
his eyes were no better than those of his friend, went close up to the
door to try and read the writing. And he chanced to touch the horse's
fetlock, and, it being a restive beast, lifted its foot and struck out
at once, and killed the Fox as dead as a door-nail.
And so, you see, the old saying in the Good Book came true after all:
"Be sure your sin will find you out."
[Illustration]
KATHERINE CRACKERNUTS
There was once a King whose wife died, leaving him with an only
daughter, whom he dearly loved. The little Princess's name was
Velvet-Cheek, and she was so good, and bonnie, and kind-hearted that all
her father's subjects loved her. But as the King was generally engaged
in transacting the business of the State, the poor little maiden had
rather a lonely life, and often wished that she had a sister with whom
she could play, and who would be a companion to her.
The King, hearing this, made up his mind to marry a middle-aged
Countess, whom he had met at a neighbouring Court, who had one daughter,
named Katherine, who was just a little younger than the Princess
Velvet-Cheek, and who, he thought, would make a nice play-fellow for
her.
He did so, and in one way the arrangement turned out very well, for the
two girls loved one another dearly, and had everything in common, just
as if they had really been sisters.
But in another way it turned out very badly, for the new Queen was a
cruel and ambitious woman, and she wanted her own daughter to do as she
had done, and make a grand marriage, and perhaps even become a Queen.
And when she saw that Princess Velvet-Cheek was growing into a very
beautiful young woman--more beautiful by far than her own daughter--she
began to hate her, and to wish that in some way she would lose her good
looks.
"For," thought she, "what suitor will heed my daughter as long as her
step-sister is by her side?"