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[Illustration]
The Boy Who Knew What The Birds Said
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK :: BOSTON :: CHICAGO :: DALLAS
ATLANTA :: SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED
LONDON :: BOMBAY :: CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
TORONTO
[Illustration: Round and round the Castle they went and the Giant with
his strength was wearing out Feet-in-the-Ashes.]
The Boy Who Knew
What The Birds Said
By Padraic Colum
_Illustrated by
Dugald Stewart Walker_
[Illustration]
The Macmillan Company, Publishers
New York Mcmxx
[Illustration]
COPYRIGHT, 1918
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1918.
For The Boy In The Brocken
[Illustration]
Contents
PAGE
How he came to know what the birds said 13
The Stone of Victory.
And how Feet-in-the-Ashes, the Swineherd's Son, came to find it 21
The King of the Birds 51
Bloom-of-Youth and the Witch of the Elders 67
The Hen-wife's Son and the Princess Bright Brow 85
The Giant and the Birds 113
The Sea-Maiden who became a Sea-Swan 133
What the Peacock and the Crow Told Each Other 149
The Treasure of King Labraid Lorc 163
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
List of Full Page Illustrations
_Frontispiece_
Round and Round the Castle they went, and the Giant
with his strength was wearing out Feet-in-the-Ashes
PAGE
"No bird will ever out-soar this flight of mine,"
said the Eagle 61
But just as the Witch was dragging her to the
stone a robin began to sing 79
The Red Champion said, "Good is the Champion that the
King of this Land has sent against me." 97
All flew from the mountain except one bird and
he was the greatest amongst them all 117
I put it to my lips, I drank it when he took a
step towards me 141
O most beauteous of all the birds, do you know of
any arms by which a hero can slay a dragon? 155
"Ernan is Lord, is Lord of the Fair Islands" 173
[Illustration]
The Boy Who Knew
What The Birds Said
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
How He Came to Know What the Birds Said
[Illustration]
There is one thing that all the Birds are afraid of, and that is the
thing that will happen when the Bird That Follows the Cuckoo flies
into the Cuckoo's mouth.
And what will happen then, asks my kind foster-child.
When the Bird that Follows the Cuckoo flies into the Cuckoo's mouth
the World will come to an end.
All the Birds know that, but not all the People know it.
Well, one day the Cuckoo was sitting on a bush and her Mouth was open.
The Bird That Follows the Cuckoo flew straight at it. And into it he
must have flown only for the Boy....
The Boy was in the tree and he flung his cap at the Cuckoo and he
covered the Cuckoo and the Cuckoo's open mouth.
The Bird That Follows the Cuckoo flew into the Crow's mouth instead,
and the Crow gave that bird a squeeze, I can tell you. The Cuckoo
pushed off the Boy's cap with her wings and flew into the forest.
All the Birds of the King's Garden were there at the time. There
were--
The Crow, the Woodpecker,
The Wren and the Eagle,
The Blackbird and Swallow,
The Jackdaw and Starling,
And the wonderful Peacock;
The Lapwing and Peewit,
The bold Yellowhammer,
The bad Willy-wagtail,
The Raven so awful,
And the Cock with his Hens;
Stone-checker, Hedge-sparrow,
And Lint-white and Lark,
The Tom-tit and Linnet,
And brisk little Sparrow,
The King-fisher too,
And my own little Goldfinch.
All the Birds in the King's Garden were overjoyed that the Bird that
Follows the Cuckoo did not get into the Cuckoo's Mouth.
"What shall we do for the Boy who prevented the World from coming to
an End?" asked the good-natured Corncrake. She was there too, but I
forgot to mention her.
"Nothing," said the Willy-wagtail. "The Boy who would throw a cap
would throw a stone. Do nothing at all for him."
"I'll sing for him," said the Goldfinch.
"I'll teach him what the Birds say," said the Crow.
"If he knew the Language of the Birds he would be like King Solomon,"
said the Raven.
"Let us make him like King Solomon," said the Goldfinch.
"Yes, yes, yes," said all the Birds in the King's Garden.
The Boy had not gone far when the Crow flew after him and lighted on
his shoulder. The Crow spoke to him in the Boy's own language. The Boy
was surprised. The Crow flew to a standing stone and went on speaking
plain words to him.
"O," said the Boy, "I didn't know you could speak."
"Why shouldn't I know how to speak," said the Crow, "haven't I, for a
hundred years and more, been watching men and listening to their
words? Why shouldn't I be able to speak?"
"And you can speak well, ma'am," said the Boy, not forgetting his
manners.
"You know one language, but I know many languages," said the Crow,
"for I know what People say, and I know what all the Birds say."
The old Crow sat there looking so wise and so friendly that the Boy
began to talk to her at his ease. And after a while the Boy said,
"Ma'am, do you think I could ever learn what the Birds say?"
"You would, if you had me to teach you," said the Crow.
"And will you teach me, ma'am?" said the Boy.
"I will," said the Crow.
Then every day after that the Crow would sit upon the Standing Stone
and the Boy would stand beside it. When the Crow had eaten the boiled
potato that the Boy always brought she would tell him about the
languages of the different Birds. The two were teaching and learning
from day to day, and indeed you might say that the Boy went to school
to the Crow. He learnt the language of this Bird and that Bird, and
as he learnt their languages, many's and many's the good story he
heard them tell each other.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: The Stone of Victory]
The Stone of Victory
AND HOW FEET-IN-THE-ASHES, THE SWINEHERD'S SON, CAME TO FIND IT
[Illustration]
"If we went there, if we went there, maybe we'd find it," said the
Cock-grouse to the Hen-grouse as they went together, clucking through
the heather.
"And if we found it, if we found it, what good would the Stone of
Victory do us?" said the Hen-grouse to the Cock-grouse, answering him
back.
"And what good did the Stone of Victory do to the youth who was called
Feet-in-the-Ashes, and who was only the Swineherd's Son?" said the
Cock-grouse to the Hen-grouse.
"Tell me, tell me, and then I shall know," said the Hen-grouse to the
Cock-grouse, answering him back. They went together, clucking through
the heather and the Boy who knew what the Birds said followed them.
He lay upon a rock and the Cock-grouse and the Hen-grouse discoursed
below him, the Cock-grouse always lifting his voice above the hen's.
The Boy heard what they said and he remembered every word of it. And,
by the tongue in my mouth, here is the story he heard:--
"Cluck-ee, Cluck-ee, cluck-ee, cloo, cloo, cloo." The King of
Ireland stood outside the gate of his Castle and his powerful
captains and his strong-armed guards were all around him. And
one of his captains went to the mound before him and he gave
a shout to the East and a shout to the West, and a shout to
the North and a shout to the South. When the King asked him
why he did it the Captain said "I want the four quarters of
the World to know that the King of Ireland stands here with
his powerful Captains and his strong armed guards that no one
dare come from the East or West, the North or the South and
lay the weight of a finger upon him." And when he said this
the other captains flashed their swords and the guards
clashed their shields and the King of Ireland said, "Well and
faithfully am I guarded indeed and luckier am I than any
other King on the earth for no one can come from the East or
the West, the North or the South and lay the weight of their
finger upon me."
But no sooner did he say that than they saw a Giant coming
across the hill and towards the place where they were
standing. And when the Giant came to them he lifted up his
hand and he doubled his hand into a fist and he struck the
King of Ireland full in the mouth and he knocked out three of
his teeth. He picked the King's teeth up, put them in his
pouch, and without one word walked past them and went down to
the sea.
"Who will avenge the insult put upon me?" said the King of
Ireland, "and which of my captains will go and win back for
me the three best teeth I had?" But not one of his captains
made a step after the Giant.
"I know now," said the King, "How well you serve and how well
you guard me. Well, if none of you will help me and if none
of you will avenge me, I'll find those who will. And now I'll
make a proclamation and I'll solemnly declare that whoever
avenges the insult offered to me, and, in addition brings
back to me the three that were the best teeth in my head,
even though he be a servant or the son of a servant, I'll
give him my daughter in marriage and a quarter of my kingdom,
and, more than that," said he, "I'll make him full captain
over all my guards."
The proclamation was sent all over the Castle and in the end
it came to the ears of the Swineherd's Son who was called
Feet-in-the-Ashes. And when he heard it he rubbed the ashes
out of his hair and he said to his grandmother--"If there is
anything in the world I want it is the King's daughter in
marriage and a quarter of the Kingdom. I'll want provision
for my journey," said he, "so, grandmother, bake a cake for
me." "I'll do better than that for you, honey, if you are
going to win back the King's teeth and marry the King's
daughter," said his grandmother. "I have a few things of my
own that no one knows anything about, and I'll give them to
you with your cake. Here," said she, "is my crutch. Follow
the Giant's tracks until you come to the sea, throw the
crutch into the sea and it will become a boat, step into the
boat and in it you can sail over to the Green Island that the
Giant rules. And here's this pot of balsam. No matter how
deep or deadly the sword-cut or the spear-thrust wound is, if
you rub this balsam over it, it will be cured. Here's your
cake too. Leave good-luck behind you and take good-luck with
you, and be off now on your journey."
"And why was the youth called Feet-in-the-Ashes?" said the Hen-grouse
to the Cock-grouse.
He was called Feet-in-the-Ashes because he had sat in the
chimney-corner from the time he could stand upon two legs.
And everybody who called him Feet-in-the-Ashes thought he was
too lazy to do anything else. Well, he left good-luck behind
him and he took good-luck with him and he started off on his
journey with the cake, the crutch and the cure. He followed
the Giant's tracks until they came down to the sea. Into the
sea he flung his grandmother's crutch. It became a boat with
masts and sails. He jumped into the boat, and the things that
had to be done in a boat were done by him--
He hoisted the sails--the red sail, the black sail and the
speckled sail,
He gave her prow to the sea and her stern to the land,
The blue sea was flashing,
The green sea was lashing,
But on they went with a breeze that he himself would have chosen,
And the little creatures of the sea sat up on their tails to
watch his going.
and so he went until he came near the Green Island where
Shamble-shanks the Giant who had carried off the three teeth
of the King of Ireland had his Castle and his stronghold.
He fastened his boat where a boat should be fastened and he
went through the Island until he came to a high grey Castle.
No one was about it and he went through it, gate, court and
hall. He found a chamber where a fire burned on the
hearth-stone. He went to the fire gladly. He looked around
the chamber and he saw three beds. "There's room to rest
myself here, at all events," said Feet-in-the-Ashes.
Night came on and he left the fire and got into a bed. He
pulled one of the soft skins over him. Just as he was going
to turn on his side to sleep three youths came into the
chamber. Feet-in-the-Ashes sat up on the bed to look at them.
When they saw him they began to moan and groan and when he
looked them over he saw they were all covered with
wounds--with spear-thrusts and with sword-cuts. The sight of
him in the bed, more than their wounds, made them moan and
groan, and when he asked them why this was so the first of
the three youths said:--
"We came here, the three of us, to fight the Giant
Shamble-shanks and to take from this Island the Stone of
Victory. We came to this Castle yesterday and we made three
beds in this chamber so that after the combat we might rest
ourselves and be healed so that we might be able to fight the
Giant again to-morrow or the day after, for we know that we
cannot win victory over him until many combats. Now we come
back from our first fight and we find you in one of the beds
we had made. We are not able to put you out of it. One of us
must stay out of bed and the one that stays out will die
to-night. Then we shall be only two against the Giant and he
will kill us when we come to combat again." And when the
first one had said all this the three youths began to moan
and groan again.
Feet-in-the-Ashes got out of bed. "You can have your rest,
the three of you," said he. "And as for me I can sit by the
fire with my feet in the ashes as often as I did before." The
three youths got into the three beds and when they were in
them Feet-in-the-Ashes took the pot of balsam that his
grandmother had given him and rubbed some of it on each one
of them. In a while their pain and their weariness left them
and their wounds closed up. Then the three youths sat up in
their beds and they told Feet-in-the-Ashes their story.
[Illustration]
"Cluck-ee, cluck-ee, cluck-ee, cluck, cluck," said the Hen-grouse,
"and what was the story they told?"
"Cluck, cluck," said the Cock-grouse, "wait until you hear, cluck,
cluck."
Said the first of these youths, "On this island there is a
moor, and on that moor there is a stone, and that stone is
not known from other stones, but it is the Stone of Victory.
The Giant Shamble-shanks has not been able to find it
himself, but he fights with all who come here to find it.
To-day we went to the moor. As soon as we got there the Giant
came out of the Grey Castle and fought with us. We fought and
we fought, but he wounded us so sorely that we were like to
die of our wounds. We came back to rest here. Thanks to your
balsam we are cured of our wounds. We'll go to fight the
Giant to-morrow, and with the surprise he'll get at seeing us
before him so soon we may be able to overcome him."
"And along with the surprise, there's another thing that will
help you," said Feet-in-the-Ashes, "and that is myself. I
have to fight the same Giant Shamble-shanks and I may as well
fight him in company as alone."
"Your help will be welcome if you have not come here to win
the Stone of Victory."
"Not for the Stone of Victory I have come, but to win back
the three teeth that were knocked out of the King of
Ireland's head and to avenge the insult that was offered to
him."
"Then we'll be glad of your help, good comrade." The three
youths got out of their beds and they sat with
Feet-in-the-Ashes round the fire and the four spent a third
of the night in pleasant story-telling, and slumber nor
weariness did come near them at all.
"Cluck, cluck, cluck," said the Hen-grouse.
"Say no more," said the Cock-grouse, "for now I'm coming to what's
wonderful in my story--"
The four youths were seated round the fire when a little man
came into the Chamber. He carried a harp in his hands. He
bowed low to each of the four of them. "I am MacDraoi, the
Giant's Harper," he said, "and I have come to play music for
you." "Not one tune do we want to hear from you," said
Feet-in-the-Ashes. "Whether you want it or not, one you will
hear," said the Harper, "and that tune is the Slumber Tune. I
shall play it for you now. And if the whole world was before
me when I play it, and if every one in it had the pains of
deep wounds, the playing on my harp would make each and every
one of them fall into a slumber." "That tune we must not
hear," said the first of the three youths, "for if we fall
into a slumber the Giant will see to it that we shall never
awaken."
MacDraoi, the Giant's Harper put his harp to his chest and he
began to play. Slumber came on the eyelids of the four who
were at the fire. Three sprang up, but one stayed on his
bench dead-sound-fast asleep. One yawned and fell down on the
floor. One of the two that remained went towards the Harper,
but on his way he fell across a bed and he remained on it.
Then, out of the four, only one, Feet-in-the-Ashes, was left
awake.
The Harper played on. Feet-in-the-Ashes put his fingers in
his mouth and commenced to gnaw them. He gnawed the first two
fingers down to their joints. But still his mouth kept open
in a yawn and still the slumber kept heavy on his eyelids. He
gnawed his third and his little finger. Then he put his right
hand in his mouth and he bit at his thumb and he bit so
sharply that his senses nearly all came back to him. With a
kick he knocked the harp out of the Harper's hands. He caught
MacDraoi then and turned him head below heels and left him
hanging by his feet from a beam across the chamber. Then he
went straight through the hall and out of the Castle.
A wet breeze was blowing and whatever sleep was on his eye it
blew away. He walked on with the dark clouds of the night
going behind him and the bright light of the day growing
before him. "I'll turn back," said he, "when I hear a cock
crowing, and whatever I find beside me then I'll take with me
to remind myself of where I have been."
He found himself on a moor and he walked on until he was far
on it. A cock crew. "Time to turn back," said
Feet-in-the-Ashes. He looked round to see what he might bring
with him and he saw on the ground a round stone.
"A round stone?" said the Hen-grouse.
"Yes," said the Cock-grouse, "a round black stone. He took it up, that
round black stone, and he went back to the Castle, hungry for his
breakfast."
In the Castle Chamber the three youths were still slumbering,
one on the bench, one on the floor and one in a bed and
MacDraoi the Harper was still hanging by his feet from the
beam across the Chamber. "Lift me down from this, good lad,"
said the Giant's Harper.
"I will," said Feet-in-the-Ashes, "when my three companions
awaken."
"They won't awaken," said MacDraoi the Harper.
"Then you can hang there," said Feet-in-the-Ashes.
"They won't awaken," said MacDraoi, "until I cause them to
awaken, and I shall cause them to awaken if you lift me down
from this."
"Will you promise by your head," said Feet-in-the-Ashes.
"By my head I promise," said the Giant's Harper.
Then Feet-in-the-Ashes lifted the Harper down from the
rafters and set him upon his legs. MacDraoi took up the harp
and he pulled the strings back-ways. The notes he drew out
were so piercing that first one and then another and then a
third of the three youths wakened up. Then, when they were on
their feet MacDraoi, the Giant's Harper, slipped out of the
house and went away. What happened to the Harper after that
no one knows.
"Cluck, cluck," said the Hen-grouse, "and what did they do after
that?"
"The next thing they had to do," said the Cock-grouse, drawing himself
up, "was to fight. Yes, my lady, to fight." The Hen-grouse drooped her
head and said no more, and the Cock-grouse went on valiantly--
Swords they drew out--the three youths who were with
Feet-in-the-Ashes. They sharpened these swords. They marched
off towards the moor with the swords in their hands.
Feet-in-the-Ashes had no sword. All he had in his hand was a
holly-stick.
When they came in sight of the Grey Castle they saw the Giant
come rushing out of the gate. He was clad all in iron and he
had a sword in one hand and a spear in the other. The four
youths spread themselves out so that they might be able to
close round the Giant. But for all his bigness the Giant was
quick enough. He struck one of them with his spear and
brought him down on his knees. He struck the other with his
sword and brought him down on his side. He struck the other
with his iron-covered hand and brought him down on his back.
And all that was left now was Feet-in-the-Ashes with his
holly-stick.
What could a youth with a holly-stick in his hand do against
a Giant that had a spear and a sword in his hands and was
besides that all covered with iron? Feet-in-the-Ashes turned
and ran. He ran towards the Castle and went round it. And
when he was at the east side the Giant was at the North and
when he was at the south the Giant was at the East. Round and
round the Castle they went and the Giant with his strength
and his quickness was wearing out Feet-in-the-Ashes.
Feet-in-the-Ashes wanted something to fling at him. He took
the stone out of his pocket--the round black stone. He held
it in his hand. He made three circles in the air with it. He
flung the stone. It struck the Giant on the breast and the
iron rang as the stone struck it. Down fell the Giant.
Feet-in-the-Ashes ran off to where his companions lay. Many
times he looked back but he did not see the Giant following
him. The three youths were lying in their wounds and in
their pain. Feet-in-the Ashes took out his pot of balsam and
rubbed them all over. Their wounds healed. First one stood up
and then the second stood up and then the third stood up and
the three were whole and well. "Where is the Giant?" each of
them asked.
"Lying where he fell," said Feet-in-the-Ashes.
"And who threw him down?" said the first of the youths.
"I threw him down with a cast of a stone," said
Feet-in-the-Ashes.
"Let us go and see," said the second of the youths. They went
towards the west side of the Grey Castle like men following a
bear who might turn on them. The Giant was lying still. "He
is dead," said one, "He is dead indeed," said another. "He is
dead forever," said a third. "He is dead by the cast of my
stone," said Feet-in-the-Ashes.
They went up to where the Giant was and looked all over him.
"There is the stone that overthrew him," said one of the
youths, "that round black stone. Where did you get it?"
"On the moor," said Feet-in-the-Ashes.
"On the moor," said the others looking at him.
"Yes," said Feet-in-the-Ashes, "Picked it up this morning on
the moor just as the cock crew."
One of the three youths took the round black stone in his
hand. "I'll bring the stone with me," said he. "We'll go into
the Castle now and see what our finding there will be."
They went into the Castle. The three youths told
Feet-in-the-Ashes they would help him to find what he had
come to seek--the three teeth out of the head of the King of
Ireland. They searched and they searched all over the Castle.
At last one of them opened an iron press and there on a shelf
was a silver cup and in the cup were three teeth.
Feet-in-the-Ashes knew they were what he had come for. He
left the cup beside him.
They took provisions from the Giant's store, put them on the
table and began to eat. But first one and then another and
then the third of the three youths made an excuse and left
the table. Feet-in-the-Ashes went on with his breakfast. Then
he left the Castle to look for the three youths that had
been his companions. He did not find them. He went down to
the sea-shore. He saw his boat and the sails were raised on
it. In the boat were the three youths and they were making
ready to put out to sea. Feet-in-the-Ashes shouted to them.
Then one of the youths came to the side of the deck and spoke
back to him.
"You found the Stone of Victory without knowing it," said he,
"and you let us take it in our hands. Now we cannot give it
back to you for our lives depend on our keeping it and
bringing it away. And," said he, "we fear to stay on the land
with you because you have such luck that you could take the
Stone from us. The boat we came in is gone. We take your boat
and we think that you have such luck that you will find
another way of getting off the island. Remember that what you
came for was not the Stone of Victory but the King's teeth,
and we helped to find them for you."
They had hoisted the sails and now a wind came and the boat
that was from his grandmother's crutch was blown out of the
harbour and Feet-in-the-Ashes was left without any companion
on the Island.
"Cluck, cluck, cluck," said the Hen-grouse, "he found the Stone of
Victory, but what good were his findings to him when he didn't know
what he had found and he let it be taken from him?"
[Illustration]
"But if he hadn't to find it he couldn't have slain the Giant and
taken the cup out of the iron cupboard--that much good the Stone of
Victory did him," said the Cock-grouse.
"I'm sorry to think that that's all he got from the Stone of Victory,"
said the Hen-grouse.
"Well, that's all he got from it, and be quiet now till I tell you the
rest of the story," said the Cock-grouse.
He went into the courtyard of the Grey Castle and he found
there a great eagle that was chained to a great rock. The
eagle came towards him as far as the chain would let him.
"Feed me," said the eagle.
"Will you carry me to Ireland's ground if I feed you?" said
Feet-in-the-Ashes.
"If you feed me every time I open my mouth, I will," said the
eagle.
"That I'll try to do, good eagle," said Feet-in-the-Ashes.
He went through courtyard and pen-fold but not a sheep nor a
pig nor a bullock could he find. It seemed as if he would not
be able to find meat for the eagle after all. He went down to
the sea-shore and he came upon a pool filled with thin bony
fish called skates. He took a basket of these and put it on
his back. He came back to the courtyard and he unlocked the
chain that held the eagle.
"Feed me," said the eagle, and he opened his mouth.
"Close your eyes and I'll fill you mouth," said
Feet-in-the-Ashes.
The eagle closed his eyes. Feet-in-the-Ashes flung a score
of skates into his mouth. "Hard meat, hard meat," said the
eagle, but he gulped them down. Feet-in-the-Ashes, holding
the cup in his hands and carrying the basket of skates on his
back, put himself between the wings of the eagle. The eagle
flew up and over the Grey Castle and faced for the plain of
the sea.
They travelled from the morning light until the full
noontide. The eagle opened his mouth again. Feet-in-the-Ashes
put nothing into it. The eagle finding nothing in his mouth
dropped down to the sea.
"Close you eyes," said Feet-in-the-Ashes, "and I'll fill your
mouth." The eagle closed his eyes and Feet-in-the-Ashes put
another score of skates into his mouth. The eagle gulped them
all down. "Whenever I open my mouth you will have to feed
me," he said. Feet-in-the-Ashes did not like to hear this,
for a score more of skates were all that was left.
The eagle rose up again and on and on he flew until the night
was coming over the water. He opened his mouth again.
Feet-in-the-Ashes put in five more skates. The eagle kept his
mouth open and said "Feed me."
There was nothing to be done then but to put in the rest of
the skates. Feet-in-the-Ashes flung them all in, and the
eagle rose up and flew and they travelled while there was
darkness on the water, and when the sun rose again
Feet-in-the-Ashes saw they were flying over the land of
Ireland. The eagle opened his mouth. Feet-in-the-Ashes had
nothing to put into it. "Fly on, good eagle," said he, "and
leave me down at the King's Castle." "Feed me," said the
eagle. "I will give you what you never had before--a whole
bullock--when we come to the King's Castle." "Cows far off
have long horns," said the eagle mocking him. With that he
flung Feet-in-the-Ashes off his back.
Sore would his fall have been if it had been on any other
place but a soft bog. On the softest of soft bogs he fell. He
made a hole in the ground, but no bone in his body was broken
and he still held the cup in his hands. He rose up covered
with the mud of the bog, and he started off for the King's
Castle.
"Cluck, cluck," said the Hen-grouse, "and did he not go to see his
grandmother at all?"
[Illustration]
"If he did it's not in the story," said the Cock-grouse. "That very
day, as I would have you know, the King was standing outside the gate
of his Castle with his powerful captains and his strong-armed guards
around him. 'A year it is to-day,' said the King, 'since the Giant
came and struck me in the mouth, knocking out and taking away three of
my teeth, and since that day I have had neither health nor prosperity.
And you know,' said he, 'that my daughter and a quarter of my Kingdom
is to go to the one who will avenge the insult and bring back my
three teeth.' 'Such and such a thing prevented me from going,' said
one of his Captains, 'but now that so and so is done, I can go and
avenge the insult offered to you.' 'So and so kept me from going,'
said another of the Captains, 'but now that such and such a thing is
done I can go to-morrow and bring you back your three teeth.' 'I am
tired of hearing you all talk,' said the King, 'and it's my belief
that my teeth will be lost and my daughter unwedded till the day of
doom.'"
It was then that Feet-in-the-Ashes appeared before them,
"Good health to you, King," said he.
"Good health to you, good man," said the King, "and what, may
I ask, have you come here for?"
He was covered with the feathers of the eagle and the mud of
the bog, and, as you may be sure, the King and the captains
and the guards looked sourly at him.
"I have come first of all, King," said he, "to give you
advice."
"And what is your advice?" asked the King.
"My advice to you is that you send away all these you have
around you--your captains and your guards--and that you turn
them into dog-boys or horse-boys or anything else in which
they would give useful service, for as they are here, they
can neither serve nor guard you."
"All that may be true," said the King, "but what right have
you to say it?"
Feet-in-the-Ashes said nothing but he held the cup up to the
King and the King saw three teeth in it and he took them out
and placed them in his mouth and the teeth went into their
places and there firmly they stayed.
Then Feet-in-the-Ashes told how he had gone to the Green
Island and how he had avenged the insult offered to the king
and how he had got what he had gone to search for. Then he
demanded the King's daughter in marriage and a quarter of the
Kingdom, and both were made over to him on the spot. As for
the powerful captains and the strong-armed guards, some of
them were made horse-boys and some were made dog-boys and
Feet-in-the-Ashes was made Captain over the new guards. When
he came to rule a quarter of the Kingdom he was given a horse
and made a duke and he was called by a better name than
Feet-in-the-Ashes. But what that name was I don't remember
now.
"Cluck, cluck, cluck," said the Hen-grouse, "and did he go to visit
the grandmother at all?"
"If he did," said the Cock-grouse, "that's another story, and if it
was ever told I don't remember it. Pray go to the right, my lady, for
I'm hungry for the sweet buds of the heather."
[Illustration]
[Illustration: The King of the Birds]
The King of the Birds
[Illustration]
The thirteen little wrens sat on the Apple-yard wall in the King's
Garden and their mother was there to teach them to fly. One called
them the little wrens, but really each one was as big as their mother.
She had a tail, however, that was most cunningly cocked and they had
no tails, and the consequence was that when they made their little
flights they always went sideways. Moreover, their beaks were still
yellow and wide and open and this is always a sign of the young bird.
"All I ask of you," said the mother, "is that when you go into the
World you remember that you are the Children of the King of the
Birds."
"Now why does our Mother call us the Children of the King of the
Birds?" said one little wren to the other. "I think we're really very
small. And I think our Mother is very small. And there's our Father
behind that ivy-leaf and he's very small too."
[Illustration]
"And wherever you go, be sure to conduct yourselves like the Children
of the King of the Birds," said the Mother.
"It's because we were reared in such a fine nest," said another
little wren. "No other birds in the world had ever a finer nest than
we have had. That's the reason we're called the Children of the King
of the Birds."
"Men call the Wren the King of the Birds," said the Father Wren, as he
flew up on a tree, "and surely men ought to know who is the King of
the Birds."
"Why do men call the Wren the King of the Birds?" said the little
wrens.
"I will tell you," said the Mother. "As we fly from the wall to the
tree, and from the tree back to the wall, I will tell you why men
honor the wren as the King of the Birds."
She spent a whole day telling the little wrens the story and the Boy
Who Knew What the Birds Said was there, and he heard the whole of
it.--
* * * * *
The King of the Hither-side of the Mountain conquered the two villages
of Half-a-Loaf and Windy-Gap, and the very day he conquered he ordered
the two Headmen to come before him.
"You two Headmen are to see that your villages, Half-a-Loaf and
Windy-Gap, send me my rightful tribute," said the King to them.
"There isn't much we can send...." said the Headman of Half-a-Loaf.
"A string of salmon," said the Headman of Windy-Gap.
"A basket of plover's eggs," said the Headman of Half-a-Loaf.
"No," said the King, "the tribute that each of your villages must send
me is the King of the Birds."
The two Headmen went back to their villages, and that very day each
told at the council what tribute the King had ordered them to send.
"The King of the Birds," said the people of Half-a-Loaf, "that's the
Eagle surely." "The King of the Birds," said the people of Windy-Gap.
"What Bird might that be? We'll have to give thought to this."
The people of Windy-Gap thought about it and thought about it, but the
people of Half-a-Loaf declared there was no doubt at all about it--the
Eagle was the King of the Birds. And while the people of Windy-Gap
were thinking and pondering the people of Half-a-Loaf were sending
their young men off to catch an eagle.
But an eagle is a hard fowl to catch, and the people of Half-a-Loaf
found they had to send all of their young men out and to send them out
every day. And the young men climbed high hills and stony ditches, and
they searched the east and they hunted the west; they went out at
sunrise and they came back at sunset, but never an eagle did they
bring with them.
"It may be that the Eagle is the King of the Birds," said the people
of Windy-Gap, "but we had better consider it."
They thought about it from sunrise to sunset; they thought about it
while they plowed their fields and sowed them, while they spun their
cloth and made their coats, while they mended their nets and mended
their shoes, while they thatched their roofs and planted their
apple-trees.
And in Half-a-Loaf there was few left to plow the fields and sow them,
to spin cloth and to make coats, to mend nets and to mend shoes, to
thatch roofs and to plant apple-trees--there was few left to do these
things for all the young men were out on the mountain hunting for an
eagle.
"The people of Windy-Gap will be ruined," said the people of
Half-a-Loaf, "they have done nothing yet to catch the Eagle. When the
King gets no tribute from them he'll come down and sell them and their
village. Call the young men back that have gone into the fields to
work and send them up the mountain again."
At last the people of Half-a-Loaf caught their Eagle--a great golden
Eagle he was. They built for him a shed and they fed him on what lambs
they had that year.
"We're safe anyway," said the people of Half-a-Loaf, "but the
unfortunate folk in Windy-Gap have lost their chance. They'll not have
time to catch an eagle now."
The time was coming near when the two villages would have to send
their tribute to the King.
"We have our Eagle," said the people of Half-a-Loaf, "But O, Bad
Fortune! we have hardly a crop growing. This will be a hard year for
us--we haven't lambs to grow into sheep even."
"We have our crops," said the people of Windy-Gap, "but, Bad Cess to
it! What are we to do about paying our tribute to the King?"
And still they couldn't decide whether it was the Eagle or the Cuckoo
or the Woodpecker that was King of the Birds. They were still
considering it when the King's Messenger came to bid them come with
their tribute to the King's Castle.
What were the people of Windy-Gap to do? They searched round and about
but no bird at all could they find. And then as he was being marched
off the Headman put his hand under the thatch of his house and took
out a Wren that was sheltering there. He put the Wren under his hat
and went off with the King's Messenger.
And there, before him on the way to the King's Castle was the Headman
of Half-a-Loaf. The riders of the village were with him and they bore
their golden Eagle most triumphantly.
"Give to my Falconer the King of the Birds," said the King.
The Headman of Half-a-Loaf presented the Eagle.
"It is well," said the King, "and where have you," said he to the
Headman of Windy-Gap, "bestowed the King of the Birds?"
The Headman put his hand under his hat and handed over the Wren to the
King's Falconer.
"Tush," said the King, "Why do you call this the King of the Birds?"
The Headman of Windy-Gap was going to say "Because his family is
great," but he said instead "Because he flies the highest, my lord."
"If it be truth it's unknown to me," said the King, "but it shall be
tried out."
Then said he to the Royal Falconer, "Let the Eagle and the Wren soar
together. And when the Eagle outsoars the Wren it shall be proved that
the Headman of Windy-Gap is a catiff, and his village and everyone in
it will be sold to the Saracens. But if it so happens that the Wren
outsoars the Eagle, the tribute sent from the village of Windy-Gap
must be accepted."
The Eagle and the Wren rose from the same perch and soared up
together. Up and up the Eagle went. "So far my father went, but I
shall go farther," said the Eagle. Higher and higher he rose. "So far
my grandfather went but I shall go farther." Farther and farther he
soared. "So far went my great-grandfather, and no eagle again will fly
so high." His wings were stiff and tired. "No bird will ever out-soar
this flight of mine," said the Eagle.
He went to close his wings so that he might rest them as he went down.
But as he did the Wren came from under his wings.
Up went the Wren, down went the Eagle. Up and up went the Wren. He had
been resting while the Eagle had been flying, and now he was able to
soar past the point the Eagle had reached at his dead-best.
The Eagle flew down and lighted on the Falconer's perch. "Has he flown
high, Falconer?" asked the King. "No bird has flown so high," said the
Falconer. "By the rime on his wings he has gone into the line of
frost."
"The Eagle is King of the Birds and no one can deny it," said the
King. "The village of Windy-Gap has not sent me my tribute."
"Mercy," said the Headman of Windy-Gap.
"The village and all in it shall be sold to the Saracens," said the
King.
Just then the Wren came down and lighted on the perch beside the
Eagle. "Where did the Wren fly to?" said the King. "By my glove," said
the Falconer "he soared past the line of frost, and went into the line
of snow, for what's on his feathers is a drop of snow."
"The Wren is King of the Birds," said the Headman of Windy-Gap.
"Yes, King of the Birds," said the King, "and, therefore, my lawful
tribute."
[Illustration: "No bird will ever out-soar this flight of mine," said
the Eagle.]
And so, for ever after the villages sent to the King, not an Eagle,
but a Wren as tribute. And in no village ever after were the lands
unplowed and the fields unsown, the cloth unspun and the coats not
made, the roofs unthatched and the apple-trees unplanted. And in every
village in the hollow and on the height the people shouted for the
Wren--"The Wren, the Wren, the King of all Birds."
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Bloom-of-Youth and the Witch of the Elders]
Bloom-of-Youth and the Witch of the Elders
[Illustration]
Bloom-of-youth was a young, young girl. But, young as she was, she
would have to be married, her step-mother said. Then married she was
while she was still little enough to walk through the doorway of her
step-mother's hut without stooping her head.
Her husband was a hunter and he took her to live in a hut at the edge
of a wood. He was out hunting the whole of the day. Now what did
Bloom-of-Youth do while she had the house to herself? Little enough
indeed. She swept the floor and she washed the dishes and she laid
them back on their shelf. Then she went to the well for pails of
water. When she went out she stayed long, for first she would look
into the well at her own image and then she would make a wreath of
flowers and put it on her head and look at herself again. After that,
maybe, she would delay to pick berries and eat them. Then she would go
without hurrying along the path, singing to herself.--
'Said when he saw
Me all in blue,
"Who is the maid
The sky must woo?"
'Said when he saw
Me all in green,
"Who is the maid
The grass calls queen?"'
When she would have got back to the hut the fire on the hearth would
have gone out and she would have to light it again and then sweep the
floor clear of the ashes that had blown upon it. After that she would
have little time to do anything else except prepare a meal against
the time when her husband would be back from his hunting.
One morning her husband left his coat down on the bench. "My coat is
torn; sew it for me," he said. Bloom-of-Youth said she would do that.
But she did no more to the coat than take it up and leave it down
again on the bench.
The next day her husband said "My vest is torn too; have it and the
coat sewn for me." He left the vest beside the coat and went out to
his hunting.
Bloom-of-Youth did nothing to the coat and nothing to the vest, and
every day for a week her husband went out without coat or vest upon
him.
One day he put on his torn coat and his torn vest and went out to his
hunting. When he came home that evening he had a bundle of wool with
him.
"Your step-mother," said he, "sends you this bundle of wool and she
bids you spin it that there may be cloth for new clothes for me." "I
will spin it," said Bloom-of-Youth.
But the next day when her husband went away she did what she had
always done before. She went to the well and she looked for long at
her image; she put a wreath of flowers on her head and she looked at
her image again; she picked berries and ate them; she went along the
path without hurrying, singing to herself.--
'Said when he saw
Me all in blue
"Who is the maid
The sky must woo?"
'Said when he saw
Me all in green
"Who is the maid
The grass calls queen?"'
She had to light the fire again when she came in and sweep away the
ashes that had gathered on the floor and after she had done all that
it was time to prepare the meal for the evening. But before her
husband came home she took the spinning wheel out of the corner and
put it near the light of the doorway.
"I see," said her husband, "that you are going to spin the wool for my
clothes."
"I am when to-morrow comes," said Bloom-of-Youth.
But the next day she did as she done every day and no wool was spun.
The day after she put wool on the wheel and gave it a few turns. In a
week from that evening she had one ball of thread spun.
"Your step-mother bids me ask you how much of the wool have you spun?"
said her husband to her one evening. Bloom-of-Youth was so much afraid
that her husband would send her to her step-mother through the dark,
dark wood, that she said "I have spun many balls."
"Your step-mother bade me count the balls you have spun," said her
husband.
"I will go up to the loft and throw them down to you and then you will
throw them back to me and we will count them that way," said
Bloom-of-Youth.
She went up to the loft and she flung down the ball she had spun.
"One," said her husband, and he threw it back to her.
She flung him the ball again.
"Two," said her husband, and he flung it back to her. Then he said
"three," and then "four," and then "five," and so on until he had
counted twelve. "You have done well," said he, "and now before the
week is out take the twelve balls to your step-mother's house and she
will weave the thread into cloth for clothes for me."
[Illustration]
Bloom-of-Youth was greatly frightened. To her step-mother's house she
would have to go with a dozen balls of thread in a few days. The next
day she hurried back from the well and she sat at her wheel before the
door spinning and spinning. But, do her best, she could not get a good
thread spun in the long length of the day.
And while she was spinning and spinning and getting her thread knotted
and broken a black and crooked woman came and stood before the door.
"You're spinning hard I see," said she to Bloom-of-Youth.
Bloom-of-Youth gave her no answer but put her head against the wheel
and cried and cried.
"And what would you say," said the black and crooked woman, "if I took
the bundle of wool from you now and brought it back to you to-morrow
spun into a dozen balls of thread?"
"It is not what I would say; it is what I should give you," said
Bloom-of-Youth.
"Give me!" said the black and crooked woman. "What could you give me?"
But as she said it she gave Bloom-of-Youth a baleful look from under
her leafy eyebrows. "No, no, you need give me nothing for spinning the
wool for you. All that I'll ask from you is that you tell me my name
within a week from this day."
"It will be easy to find out her name within a week," said
Bloom-of-Youth to herself. She took the bundle of wool out of the
basket and gave it to her. The black and crooked woman put the wool
under her arm and then she lifted up her stick and shook it at
Bloom-of-Youth.
"And if you don't find out my name within a week you will have to give
me your heart's blood--a drop of heart's blood for every ball of wool
I spin for you." The hag went away then. Bloom-of-Youth was greatly
frightened, but after a while she said to herself "I need not be
afraid, for in a week I'll surely find out the name of the black and
crooked woman who can't live far from this."
The next day the hag came to the door and left twelve balls of wool on
the bench outside the house. "In a week, in a week," said she, "you'll
have my name or I'll have twelve drops of your heart's blood to make
the leaves of my Elder Tree fresh and fine."
Bloom-of-Youth went with the twelve balls of wool to her step-mother's
house, and every person she met on the way she asked if he or she knew
the name of the black and crooked woman. But no one could tell her the
hag's real name. All they could tell was that she was the Witch of the
Elders and that she lived beside the Big Stones that were at the other
side of the wood.
Bloom-of-Youth was afraid: her face lost its color and her eyes grew
wide and her heart would beat from one side of her body to the other.
And every day the Witch of the Elders would come to the door and say
"Have you my name yet, Bloom-of-Youth, have you my name yet? Two days
gone, five to come on; three days gone, four to come on; four days
gone, three to come on; five days gone, two to come on." Six days went
by and on the seventh she would have to go to the Big Stones at the
other side of the wood and let the Witch of the Elders take twelve
drops of her heart's blood.
The night before the week's end her husband, when he sat down by the
fire said "I saw something and I heard something very strange when I
was at the other side of the wood this evening." "What was it you
saw?" said Bloom-of-Youth. "Lights were all round the Big Stones and
there was a noise of spinning inside the ring they make. That's what I
saw." "And what was it you heard?" said Bloom-of-Youth. "Someone
singing to the wheels," said her husband. "And this is what I heard
sung.--
Spin, wheel, spin; sing, wheel, sing;
Every stone in my yard, spin, spin, spin;
The thread is hers, the wool is mine;
Twelve drops from her heart will make my leaves shine!
How little she knows, the foolish thing,
That my name is Bolg and Curr and Carr,
That my name is Lurr and Lappie.
"O sing that song again," said Bloom-of-Youth, "Sing that song again."
Her husband sang it again, and Bloom-of-Youth went to bed, singing to
herself.--
My name is Bolg and Curr and Carr,
My name is Lurr and Lappie.
The next day as soon as her husband had gone to his hunting
Bloom-of-Youth went through the wood and towards the Big Stones that
were at the other side of it. And as she went through the wood she
sang.--
Spin, wheel, spin; sing, wheel, sing;
Every branch on the tree, spin, spin, spin;
The wool is hers, the thread is fine;
For loss of my heart's blood I'll never dwine;
Her name is Bolg and Curr and Carr,
Her name is Lurr and Lappie.
She went singing until she was through the wood and near the Big
Stones. She went within the circle. There, besides a flat stone that
was on the ground, she saw the black and crooked old woman.
"You have come to me, Bloom-of-Youth," said she. "Do you see the
hollow that is in this stone? It is into this hollow that the drops of
your heart's blood will have to run."
"The drops of my heart's blood may remain my own."
"No, no, they won't remain your own any longer than when it is plain
you can't tell my name."
"Is it Bolg?" said Bloom-of-Youth.
"Bolg is one of my names," screamed the Witch of the Elders, "but one
of my names won't let you go free."
"Is it Curr?"