I
ONE day a young man went into Stribor’s Forest and did not know that the
Forest was enchanted and that all manner of magic abode there. Some of
its magic was good and some was bad—to each one according to his
deserts.
Now this Forest was to remain enchanted until it should be entered by
someone who preferred his sorrows to all the joys of this world.
The young man set to and cut wood, and presently sat down on a stump to
rest, for it was a fine winter’s day. And out of the stump slipped a
snake, and began to fawn upon him. Now this wasn’t a real snake, but a
human being transformed into a snake for its sins, and it could only be
set free by one who was willing to wed it. The snake sparkled like
silver in the sun as it looked up into the young man’s eyes.
“Dear me, what a pretty snake! I should rather like to take it home,”
said the young man in fun.
“Here’s the silly fool who is going to help me out of my trouble,”
thought the sinful soul within the snake. So she made haste and turned
herself at once out of a snake into a most beautiful woman standing
there before the young man. Her sleeves were white and embroidered like
butterflies’ wings, and her feet were tiny like a countess’s. But
because her thoughts had been evil, the tongue in her mouth remained a
serpent’s tongue.
“Here I am! Take me home and marry me!” said the snake-woman to the
youth.
Now if this youth had only had presence of mind and remembered quickly
to brandish his hatchet at her and call out: “I certainly never thought
of wedding a piece of forest magic,” why, then the woman would at once
have turned again into a snake, wriggled back into the stump, and no
harm done to anybody.
But he was one of your good-natured, timid and shy youths; moreover, he
was ashamed to say “No” to her, when she had transformed herself all on
his account. Besides, he liked her because she was pretty, and he
couldn’t know in his innocence what had remained inside her mouth.
So he took the Woman by the hand and led her home. Now that youth lived
with his old Mother, and he cherished his Mother as though she were the
image of a saint.
“This is your daughter-in-law,” said the youth, as he entered the house
with the Woman.
“The Lord be thanked, my son,” replied his Mother, and looked at the
pretty girl. But the Mother was old and wise, and knew at once what was
inside her daughter-in-law’s mouth.
The daughter-in-law went out to change her dress, and the Mother said to
her son:
“You have chosen a very pretty bride, my boy; only beware, lest she be a
snake.”
The youth was dumbfounded with astonishment. How could his Mother know
that the other had been a snake? And his heart grew angry within him as
he thought: “Surely my Mother is a witch.” And from that moment he hated
his Mother.
So the three began to live together, but badly and discordantly. The
daughter-in-law was ill-tempered, spiteful, greedy and proud.
Now there was a mountain peak there as high as the clouds, and one day
the daughter-in-law bade the old Mother go up and fetch her snow from
the summit for her to wash in.
“There is no path up there,” said the Mother.
“Take the goat and let her guide you. Where she can go up, there you can
tumble down,” said the daughter-in-law.
The son was there at the time, but he only laughed at the words, simply
to please his wife.
This so grieved the Mother that she set out at once for the peak to
fetch the snow, because she was tired of life. As she went her way she
thought to ask God to help her; but she changed her mind and said: “For
then God would know that my son is undutiful.”
But God gave her help all the same, so that she safely brought the snow
back to her daughter-in-law from the cloud-capped peak.
Next day the daughter-in-law gave her a fresh order:
“Go out on to the frozen lake. In the middle of the lake there is a
hole. Catch me a carp there for dinner.”
“The ice will give way under me, and I shall perish in the lake,”
replied the old Mother.
“The carp will be pleased if you go down with him,” said the
daughter-in-law.
And again the son laughed, and the Mother was so grieved that she went
out at once to the lake. The ice cracked under the old woman, and she
wept so that the tears froze on her face. But yet she would not pray to
God for help; she would keep it from God that her son was sinful.
“It is better that I should perish,” thought the Mother as she walked
over the ice.
But her time had not yet come. And therefore a gull flew over her head,
bearing a fish in its beak. The fish wriggled out of the gull’s beak and
fell right at the feet of the old woman. The Mother picked up the fish
and brought it safely to her daughter-in-law.
On the third day the Mother sat by the fire, and took up her son’s shirt
to mend it. When her daughter-in-law saw that, she flew at her, snatched
the shirt out of her hands, and screamed:
“Stop that, you blind old fool! That is none of your business.”
And she would not let the Mother mend her son’s shirt.
Then the old woman’s heart was altogether saddened, so that she went
outside, sat in that bitter cold on the bench before the house, and
cried to God:
“Oh God, help me!”
At that moment she saw a poor girl coming towards her. The girl’s bodice
was all torn and her shoulder blue with the cold, because the sleeve had
given way. But still the girl smiled, for she was bright and
sweet-tempered. Under her arm she carried a bundle of kindling-wood.
“Will you buy wood for kindling, Mother?” asked the girl.
“I have no money, my dear; but if you like I will mend your sleeve,”
sadly returned the old Mother, who was still holding the needle and
thread with which she had wanted to mend her son’s shirt.
So the old Mother mended the girl’s sleeve, and the girl gave her a
bundle of kindling-wood, thanked her kindly, and went on happy because
her shoulder was no longer cold.