impressed by the wonderful things Pei-Hang seemed able to do; so he
offered to show him the nearest way to the home of the Genii, on the
top of Mount Sumi.
After a long and wearisome climb they got up there, and found eight of
the Genii sitting on eight snow-peaks, and looking down on the Lake of
Gems, as Yun-Ying had said.
The Lake of Gems lay on the other side of Mount Sumi, and was a
beautiful sheet of water, flashing all the colours of the rainbow.
Pei-Hang could not take his eyes off it. He forgot all about the
pestle and mortar as he watched the waves rippling along the shore,
and leaving behind them diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and pearls in
thousands.
Every pebble on the margin of the lake was a precious stone, and
Pei-Hang wanted to go down and fill his pockets with them.
He stood there while the Geni who had been his guide explained to the
others why he had come, and told them about the wonderful red and
white seeds he carried about with him.
"We must let him have the pestle and mortar," he said, "or he won't
give us our rivers back again." The eight Genii nodded their eight
heads, and spoke all at once, with a noise which was like the rumble
of thunder among the hills. "Let him take it, if he can carry it,"
they said.
And they laughed until the snow-peaks shook beneath them; for the
mortar made of jade was six feet high and four feet wide and the
pestle was so heavy no mortal could lift it.
Pei-Hang, when he had finished staring at the Lake of Gems, walked
round it, and wondered how he was to carry it down the mountain and
across the plains to Chang-ngan.
Then he sat down on the ground to think the matter over, and the
Genii, even his own good-natured Geni, laughed at him again.
"Come!" they said. "If you like to fill the mortar with precious
stones, you may do it. Any man who can carry it empty can carry it
full."
"Because no one can carry it at all," concluded the good-natured Geni,
softly to himself.
Pei-Hang folded his arms, and sat still, and thought, and thought, and
took no notice of their gibes and sneers.
He had not studied three years with the wisest man in Chang-ngan for
nothing, and, besides, he was determined to marry Yun-Ying, and when
young men are very much in love, they sometimes accomplish things
which their friends--and enemies--think are impossible.
At last a light came into his eyes; and he jumped up and asked the
friendly Geni if he would make a little heap of stones at one side of
the mortar.
"I want to be able to look inside it, and I am not tall enough," said
he.
"And why don't you do it yourself?" asked the Geni.
"Because I must go down to the Lake of Gems and collect precious
stones," replied Pei-Hang.
And he ran down to the shore of the lake and gathered diamonds,
rubies, emeralds, pearls, and sapphires, as many as he could carry.
This he did again and again, emptying them into the mortar each time,
until it was quite full, and held gems enough to make Pei-Hang the
richest man in China.
This was exactly what he wanted; for he knew that the yellow-faced
mandarin was only the richest man in Chang-ngan, and that the richest
man in China would have a far greater chance of marrying Yun-Ying.
"Well, what next?" cried the eight Genii, when he had finished. "Will
you take it on your shoulder or on your head?"
"I will just carry it under my arm," replied Pei-Hang, easily.
And he took out his little box, and threw one of his red seeds on top
of the gems.
In a moment the gigantic pestle and mortar shrank into one of the
ordinary size.
Pei-Hang put the pestle in his pocket, and took up the mortar
carefully, because he did not wish to spill the precious stones, and
made a low bow to the Genii.
"Good-bye, and thank you," he said.
They did not laugh this time, but they pursued him with such a roar of
rage that it sounded as if eight lions were waiting for their dinner.
But they did not dare to stop him, knowing that he had the power to
turn the four brooks into four rivers again.
Pei-Hang hurried away, and on his journey did exactly what he had
promised.
He jumped across the first brook, and threw a white seed into it, and
turned it into a terrible inky black waste of waters a mile wide, full
of fishes six yards long, and every fish covered with spikes.
The Genii stopped roaring then; they were relieved to see the Black
River rolling once more between them and the outer world.
When Pei-Hang came to the Red River, and the White River, and the Blue
River, he did the same thing; and from that day to this no one has
been able to find the home of the Genii, because no one but Pei-Hang
could ever cross the Blue River, much less the other three.
Then Pei-Hang journeyed for seven days, and came to his father's and
mother's house, and told them all that had happened since he had left
them, and he gave them a ruby, a diamond, an emerald, a sapphire, a
pearl, and a pink topaz, a jewel for every white seed his mother had
given him, and each as large as a sparrow's egg. After that he went on
to Chang-ngan, and there he found that, although he had only been a
month away, Yun-Ying's mother had told everyone he was dead, and
invited all her friends to a wedding feast in honour of her daughter's
marriage with the yellow-faced old mandarin. The wedding had not taken
place when Pei-Hang arrived; but Yun-Ying stood under the peach tree,
in her wedding dress, which was of pink silk, all embroidered with
silver, and when she saw Pei-Hang, she threw herself into his arms and
the tears ran down her cheeks.
Pei-Hang put down the pestle and mortar while he comforted her, and
her mother came running out to look at it.
"You have come too late to marry Yun-Ying," she said. "But I'll buy
the pestle and mortar from you with some of the money the mandarin has
given me."
"No, you will not," replied Pei-Hang. And he dropped one of his white
seeds into the mortar, which at once increased in size until it filled
the whole grass plat under the peach tree, and it was full to the brim
of glittering jewels.
Pei-Hang climbed into one of the branches overhanging it, and from
there he threw down among the wedding guests diamonds, rubies,
emeralds, and all kinds of precious stones.
And the yellow-faced mandarin was as busy picking them up as anyone.
"Although he is so rich that his drinking-cups are made of gold!"
cried the others, indignantly.
"One can never have too much of a good thing. He! he! he!" he
chuckled.
And when Pei-Hang offered him three rubies, each as large as a
pigeon's egg, if he would go away and forget all about Yun-Ying, he
took them and went.
Perhaps he knew that Yun-Ying's mother would not have much more to say
to him, now that she had a chance of a son-in-law who scattered jewels
about the grass like pearl barley.
Or perhaps he really preferred the three great rubies to Yun-Ying.
At any rate, he went back to Chang-ngan, and Pei-Hang married Yun
Ying, and took her away to the city where his father and mother lived;
and they were as happy as two young people deserve to be when they
love each other dearly.
As for the pestle and mortar of jade, it stood under the peach tree;
and no one could lift it into the cottage, and no one could have
pounded magic drugs in it, if they could have got it inside.
Pei-Hang had one red seed left in his box, and he meant to have thrown
it into the mortar as soon as he had taken all the precious stones
out, and made it small again.
But while he was up in the peach tree the box flew open, and the seed
fell out, and was gobbled up by a turkey underneath.
The turkey, of course, changed into a bantam cock; but the pestle and
mortar had to remain the size it was.
And Yun-Ying's mother was very angry about it, although I do not think
she deserved anything else, after the unfair advantage she had tried
to take of her son-in-law.
_The Sea-Maiden_
There was once a poor old fisherman, and one year he was not getting
much fish. On a day of days, while he was fishing, there rose a
sea-maiden at the side of his boat, and she asked him, "Are you
getting much fish?" The old man answered and said, "Not I." "What
reward would you give me for sending plenty of fish to you?" "Ach!"
said the old man, "I have not much to spare." "Will you give me the
first son you have?" said she. "I would give ye that, were I to have a
son," said he. "Then go home, and remember me when your son is twenty
years of age, and you yourself will get plenty of fish after this."
Everything happened as the sea-maiden said, and he himself got plenty
of fish; but when the end of the twenty years was nearing, the old man
was growing more and more sorrowful and heavy-hearted, while he
counted each day as it came.
He had rest neither day nor night. The son asked his father one day,
"Is any one troubling you?" The old man said, "Someone is, but that's
nought to do with you nor anyone else." The lad said, "I _must_ know
what it is." His father told him at last how the matter was with him
and the sea-maiden. "Let not that put you in any trouble," said the
son; "I will not oppose you." "You shall not; you shall not go, my
son, though I never get fish any more." "If you will not let me go
with you, go to the smithy, and let the smith make me a great strong
sword, and I will go seek my fortune."
His father went to the smithy, and the smith made a doughty sword for
him. His father came home with the sword. The lad grasped it and gave
it a shake or two, and it flew into a hundred splinters. He asked his
father to go to the smithy and get him another sword in which there
should be twice as much weight; and so his father did, and so likewise
it happened to the next sword--it broke in two halves. Back went the
old man to the smithy; and the smith made a great sword; its like he
never made before. "There's the sword for thee," said the smith, "and
the fist must be good that plays this blade." The old man gave the
sword to his son; he gave it a shake or two. "This will do," said he;
"it's high time now to travel on my way."
On the next morning he put a saddle on a black horse that his father
had, and he took the world for his pillow. When he went on a bit, he
fell in with the carcass of a sheep beside the road. And there were a
great black dog, a falcon, and an otter, and they were quarrelling
over the spoil. So they asked him to divide it for them. He came down
off the horse, and he divided the carcass amongst the three, three
shares to the dog, two shares to the otter, and a share to the falcon.
"For this," said the dog, "if swiftness of foot or sharpness of tooth
will give thee aid, mind me, and I will be at thy side." Said the
otter, "If the swimming of foot on the ground of a pool will loose
thee, mind me, and I will be at thy side." Said the falcon, "If
hardship comes on thee, where swiftness of wing or crook of claw will
do good, mind me, and I will be at thy side."
On this he went onward till he reached a king's house, and he took
service to be a herd, and his wages were to be according to the milk
of the cattle. He went away with the cattle, and the grazing was but
bare. In the evening when he took them home they had not much milk,
the place was so bare, and his meat and drink was but spare that
night.
On the next day he went farther on with them; and at last he came to a
place exceedingly grassy, in a great glen, of which he never saw the
like.
But about the time when he should drive the cattle home-wards, whom
should he see coming but a great giant with a sword in his hand? "HI!
HO!! HOGARACH!!!" says the giant. "Those cattle are mine; they are on
my land, and a dead man art thou." "I say not that," says the herd;
"there is no knowing, but that may be easier to say than to do."
He drew the great clean-sweeping sword, and he neared the giant. The
herd drew back his sword, and the head was off the giant in a
twinkling. He leaped on the black horse, and he went to look for the
giant's house. In went the herd, and that's the place where there was
money in plenty, and dresses of each kind in the wardrobe with gold
and silver, and each thing finer than the other. At the mouth of night
he took himself to the king's house, but he took not a thing from the
giant's house. And when the cattle were milked this night there _was_
milk! He got good feeding this night, meat and drink without stint,
and the king was hugely pleased that he had caught such a herd. He
went on for a time in this way, but at last the glen grew bare of
grass, and the grazing was not so good.
So he thought he would go a little farther forward in on the giant's
land; and he sees a great park of grass. He returned for the cattle,
and he put them into the park.
They were but a short time grazing in the park when a great wild giant
came, full of rage and madness. "HI! HAW!! HOGARAICH!!!" said the
giant; "it is a drink of thy blood that will quench my thirst this
night." "There is no knowing," said the herd, "but that's easier to
say than to do." And at each other went the men. _There_ was shaking
of blades! At length and at last it seemed as if the giant would get
the victory over the herd. Then he called on the dog, and with one
spring the black dog caught the giant by the neck, and swiftly the
herd struck off his head.
He went home very tired this night, but it's a wonder if the king's
cattle had not milk. The whole family was delighted that they had got
such a herd.
Next day he betakes himself to the castle. When he reached the door, a
little flattering carlin met him standing in the door. "All hail and
good luck to thee, fisher's son! 't is I myself am pleased to see
thee; great is the honour for this kingdom, for thy like to be come
into it--thy coming in is fame for this little bothy; go in first;
honour to the gentles; go in, and take breath."
"In before me, thou crone; I like not flattery out of doors; go in and
let's hear thy speech." In went the crone, and when her back was to
him he drew his sword and whips off her head; but the sword flew out
of his hand. And swift the crone gripped her head with both hands, and
put it on her neck as it was before. The dog sprang on the crone, and
she struck the generous dog with the club of magic; and there he lay.
But the herd struggled for a hold of the club of magic, and with one
blow on the top of the head she was on earth in the twinkling of an
eye. He went forward, up a little, and there was spoil! Gold and
silver, and each thing more precious than another, in the crone's
castle. He went back to the king's house, and there was rejoicing.
He followed herding in this way for a time; but one night after he
came home, instead of getting "All hail!" and "Good luck!" from the
dairymaid, all were at crying and woe.
He asked what cause of woe there was that night. The dairymaid said,
"There is a great beast with three heads in the loch, and it must get
someone every year, and the lot had come this year on the king's
daughter, and at midday to-morrow she is to meet the Laidly Beast at
the upper end of the loch, but there is a great suitor yonder who is
going to rescue her."
"What suitor is that?" said the herd. "Oh, he is a great general of
arms," said the dairymaid, "and when he kills the beast, he will marry
the king's daughter, for the king has said that he who could save his
daughter should get her to marry."
But on the morrow, when the time grew near, the king's daughter and
this hero of arms went to give a meeting to the beast, and they
reached the black rock at the upper end of the loch. They were but a
short time there when the beast stirred in the midst of the loch; but
when the general saw this terror of a beast with three heads, he took
fright, and he slunk away, and he hid himself. And the king's
daughter was under fear and under trembling, with no one at all to
save her. Suddenly she sees a doughty, handsome youth, riding a black
horse, and coming where she was. He was marvellously arrayed and full
armed, and his black dog moved after him. "There is gloom on your
face, girl," said the youth; "what do you here?"
"Oh! that's no matter," said the king's daughter. "It's not long I'll
be here at all events."
"I say not that," said he.
"A champion fled as likely as you, and not long since," said she.
"He is a champion who stands the war," said the youth. And to meet the
beast he went with his sword and his dog. But there was a spluttering
and a splashing between himself and the beast! The dog kept doing all
he might, and the king's daughter was palsied by fear of the noise of
the beast! One of them would now be under, and now above. But at last
he cut one of the heads off it. It gave one roar, and the son of
earth, echo of the rocks, called to its screech, and it drove the loch
in spindrift from end to end, and in a twinkling it went out of sight.
"Good luck and victory follow you, lad!" said the king's daughter. "I
am safe for one night, but the beast will come again and again, until
the other two heads come off it." He caught the beast's head, and he
drew a knot through it, and he told her to bring it with her there
to-morrow. She gave him a gold ring, and went home with the head on
her shoulder, and the herd betook himself to the cows. But she had not
gone far when this great general saw her, and he said to her, "I will
kill you if you do not say 't was I took the head off the beast."
"Oh!" says she, "'t is I will say it; who else took the head off the
beast but you!" They reached the king's house, and the head was on the
general's shoulder. But here was rejoicing, that she should come home
alive and whole, and this great captain with the beast's head full of
blood in hand. On the morrow they went away, and there was no
question at all but that this hero would save the king's daughter.
They reached the same place, and they were not long there when the
fearful Laidly Beast stirred in the midst of the loch, and the hero
slunk away as he did on yesterday: but it was not long after this when
the man of the black horse came, with another dress on. No matter; she
knew that it was the very same lad. "It is I am pleased to see you,"
said she. "I am in hopes you will handle your great sword to-day as
you did yesterday. Come up and take breath." But they were not long
there when they saw the beast steaming in the midst of the loch.
At once he went to meet the beast, but _there_ was Cloopersteich and
Clapersteich, spluttering, splashing, raving, and roaring on the
beast! They kept at it thus for a long time, and about the mouth of
the night he cut another head off the beast. He put it on the knot and
gave it to her. She gave him one of her earrings, and he leaped on the
black horse, and he betook himself to the herding. The king's daughter
went home with the heads. The general met her, and took the heads from
her, and he said to her that she must tell that it was he who took the
head off of the beast this time also. "Who else took the head off the
beast but you?" said she. They reached the king's house with the
heads. Then there was joy and gladness.
About the same time on the morrow, the two went away. The officer hid
himself as he usually did. The king's daughter betook herself to the
bank of the loch. The hero of the black horse came, and if roaring and
raving were on the beast on the days that were passed, this day it was
horrible. But no matter, he took the third head off the beast, and
drew it through the knot, and gave it to her. She gave him her other
earring, and then she went home with the heads. When they reached the
king's house, all were full of smiles, and the general was to marry
the king's daughter the next day. The wedding was going on, and
everyone about the castle longing till the priest should come. But
when the priest came, she would marry only the one who could take the
heads off the knot without cutting it. "Who should take the heads off
the knot but the man that put the heads on?" said the king.
The general tried them, but he could not loose them, and at last there
was no one about the house but had tried to take the heads off the
knot, but they could not. The king asked if there was anyone else
about the house that would try to take the heads off the knot. They
said that the herd had not tried them yet. Word went for the herd; and
he was not long throwing them hither and thither. "But stop a bit, my
lad," said the king's daughter; "the man that took the heads off the
beast, he has my ring and my two earrings." The herd put his hand in
his pocket, and he threw them on the board. "Thou art my man," said
the king's daughter. The king was not so pleased when he saw that it
was a herd who was to marry his daughter, and he ordered that he
should be put in a better dress; but his daughter spoke, and she said
that he had a dress as fine as any that ever was in his castle; and
thus it happened. The herd put on the giant's golden dress, and they
were married that same day.
They were now married, and everything went on well. But one day, and
it was the namesake of the day when his father had promised him to the
sea-maiden, they were sauntering by the side of the loch, and lo, and
behold! she came and took him away to the loch without leave or
asking. The king's daughter was now mournful, tearful, blind-sorrowful
for her married man; she was always with her eye on the loch. An old
soothsayer met her, and she told how it had befallen her married mate.
Then he told her the thing to do to save her mate, and that she did.
She took her harp to the sea-shore, and sat and played; and the
sea-maiden came up to listen, for sea-maidens are fonder of music than
all other creatures. But when the wife saw the sea-maiden she stopped.
The sea-maiden said, "Play on!" but the princess said, "No, not till I
see my man again." So the sea-maiden put up his head out of the loch.
Then the princess played again, and stopped till the sea-maiden put
him up to the waist. Then the princess played and stopped again, and
this time the sea-maiden put him all out of the loch, and he called on
the falcon and became one, and flew on shore. But the sea-maiden took
the princess, his wife.
Sorrowful was each one that was in the town on this night. Her man was
mournful, tearful, wandering down and up about the banks of the loch,
by day and night. The old soothsayer met him. The soothsayer told him
that there was no way of killing the sea-maiden but the one way, and
this is it: "In the island that is in the midst of the loch is the
white-footed hind of the slenderest legs and the swiftest step, and
though she be caught, there will spring a hoodie out of her, and
though the hoodie should be caught, there will spring a trout out of
her, but there is an egg in the mouth of the trout, and the soul of
the sea-maiden is in the egg and if the egg breaks she is dead."
Now, there was no way of getting to this island, for the sea-maiden
would sink each boat and raft that would go on the loch. He thought he
would try to leap the strait with the black horse, and even so he did.
The black horse leaped the strait. He saw the hind; and he let the
black dog after her, but when he was on one side of the island, the
hind would be on the other side. "Oh! would the black dog of the
carcass of flesh were here!" No sooner spoke he the word than the
grateful dog was at his side; and after the hind he went, and they
were not long in bringing her to earth. But he no sooner caught her
than a hoodie sprang out of her. "Would that the falcon grey, of
sharpest eye and swiftest wing, were here!" No sooner said he this
than the falcon was after the hoodie, and she was not long putting her
to earth; and as the hoodie fell on the bank of the loch, out of her
jumps the trout. "Oh! that thou wert by me now, O otter!" No sooner
said than the otter was at his side, and out on the loch she leaped,
and brings the trout from the midst of the loch; but no sooner was the
otter on shore with the trout than the egg came from his mouth. He
sprang and he put his foot on it. 'T was then that the sea-maiden
appeared, and she said, "Break not the egg, and you shall get all you
ask." "Deliver to me my wife!" In the wink of an eye she was by his
side. When he got hold of her hand in both his hands, he let his foot
down on the egg, and the sea-maiden died.
_The Enchanted Waterfall_
Once upon a time, there lived alone with his father and mother a
simple young wood-cutter. He worked all day on the lonely hillside, or
among the shady trees of the forest. But, work as hard as he might, he
was still very poor, and could bring home but little money to his old
father and mother. This grieved him very much, for he was an
affectionate and dutiful son.
For himself he had but few wants and was easily pleased. His mother,
too, was always cheerful and contented. The old father, however, was
of a selfish disposition, and often grumbled at the poor supper of
rice, washed down with weak tea, or, if times were very bad, with a
cup of hot water.