for still another year, but take the seven mares and their foals to
market, and sell them for what you can get. With the money buy fodder
and place it where you did before, and if you do this thing you will
never regret it.”
Well, Boots was willing to do that too. He drove the mares and their
foals to market, and sold them and bought fodder with the money. Then
he went away to the city again and took service for another twelve
months.
At the end of the year, to a day, Boots came back to the hill to look
at his dappled colt, but before he reached there he saw a light in the
sky and heard a sound as of thunder. The sound drew nearer and nearer,
and then Boots saw the colt coming to meet him, and the noise was made
by its hoofs, for it was so huge that the earth trembled under it as
it came; and if its coat had been like satin before, now it shone like
glass, so that the light was reflected all about it, and that was what
Boots had seen.
“By my faith,” cried Boots, “never have I beheld such a horse before.
The King himself hath not another like it.”
“That is true,” answered the steed. “And now, Master, the time has come
for you to ride me out into the world, and together we will make your
fortune.”
Then Boots tried to mount, but Dapplegrim (for so Boots named the
horse) was so huge that he was obliged to lie down before his master
could get upon his back.
Once Boots was up, away the horse went, so fast that the wind whistled
past their ears, and they never stopped nor stayed until they came to
the castle of the King of the country.
Here Boots knocked at the door and asked the King if he might take
service with him, and the King could have jumped for joy at the thought
of having him. For never in his life before had he seen such a horse as
Dapplegrim; and as for Boots, the King was sure that only a hero could
be the master of such a steed.
So now Boots was one of the King’s own men, and soon he became such a
favourite that the King would have him always by his side, and talked
to him more than to anyone else.
But this made the noblemen who were about the castle very jealous. And
not only did they have to make way for Boots, but all their own horses
had to be taken out of the castle stable so that Dapplegrim might have
the more room. Before long they began to plot and plan as to how they
could rid themselves of Boots, and his great grey steed as well.
Now, though the King of that country was very rich and powerful, he
was so sad that he was never seen to smile, for he had had only one
child, a daughter, and her a troll had stolen away. The troll kept her
a prisoner in his house at the top of a great glass hill. This hill was
as slippery as ice and as steep as a house.
Many princes and brave men had tried to rescue the Princess, for she
was as beautiful as the day, and the King had promised her in marriage
to anyone who would bring her back to him. None had succeeded, however,
and those who had tried had always lost their lives; for though the
King had promised her as a wife to whoever could save her, he had also
sworn to cut off the heads of all those who tried and failed.
Now one day several of the noblemen who were jealous of Boots came to
the King and told him that Boots had been saying this and that, and
that he could ride up the hill on Dapplegrim as easily as not, and
could rescue the Princess if only the King would ask him to.
As soon as the King heard this he sent for Boots to come before him.
“How is this?” said he. “Why do you tell others that you can rescue the
Princess if you choose, and yet you never tell me?”
“But I never said such a thing,” said Boots.
“Yes, but you did.”
“No, but I didn’t.”
The King would not listen to him, however. He was determined that Boots
must set out on the adventure at once. If he rescued the Princess, he
should have her for a wife, but if he failed his head should be cut
from his shoulders.
As soon as Boots left the King, he went straight out to Dapplegrim’s
stall, and he was down in the mouth, as you may well believe.
“What is the matter, Master?” asked Dapplegrim.
“Matter enough,” answered Boots; and then he told the great grey horse
all that the King had been saying to him.
The great grey horse listened attentively. “This is no easy thing the
King has asked of you,” he said; “but it might have been worse. And
then it isn’t every day one has a chance of winning a princess for a
wife. Do you go back to the King and ask him for ten pounds of iron and
twelve pounds of steel, and six blacksmiths to do some work for us, for
I must be properly shod before we start out on this adventure.”
Well, Boots went back to the King and asked him for just that, ten
pounds of iron and twelve pounds of steel, and six blacksmiths to work
for him.
The King did not say no. Ten pounds of iron and twelve pounds of steel
were brought to the palace, and six blacksmiths came to shoe the great
horse Dapplegrim, and it was a task for all six of them; for after
the shoes were made, it took three blacksmiths to hold up each one of
Dapplegrim’s feet and three more to fit the shoe to it, but when it was
done never any other horse in all the world was shod like him.
Then Boots mounted and rode forth. On and on went Dapplegrim, so fast
and far that you might have thought they would have ridden over the
very edge of the world.
Finally Dapplegrim asked, “Master, do you see anything?”
“Yes,” said Boots, “I see something far before us. It looks like a wall
of snow with a black spot on top of it no bigger than a nut.”
“That white wall is the hill of glass,” said the grey horse, “and the
spot on top of it is the troll’s house, but we have still a journey to
make before we reach it.”
Then on they went and on they went, and after a while they came to the
foot of the hill. When Boots looked at it his heart sank within him,
for he did not see how any living thing could keep a foothold on it.
“Well, here we are, Master,” said Dapplegrim. “And now, unless we can
mount the hill, it is an ill day for you and me too.”
Then Boots gathered up the reins and rode the great grey horse straight
at it, and the fire flashed from under Dapplegrim’s feet. Three times
Boots rode Dapplegrim at the hill. The first time the great horse
scarcely mounted as high as a man could reach, and then his feet
slipped from under him and back he fell.
The second time he rode half-way up the hill, and then again back, back
he slipped.
The third time he sprang forward upon the hill of glass, and as his
great feet struck it the glass cracked and crashed beneath him, and up
and up he went, to the very top, and on into the troll’s house.
The beautiful Princess was sitting beside the window, weeping, her
golden hair all loose and falling about her, and the troll was there
beside her.
Dapplegrim thundered into the hall and over to the Princess, and Boots
stopped and caught her up to the saddle beside him. Then Dapplegrim
wheeled, and away they went, faster than the wind, and the troll did
not even have time to catch up the sword that lay beside him or to try
to stop them.
It was a long way back to the castle, and Dapplegrim had two to carry
now, but that was nothing to him. On and on they went, and when they
thundered up to the castle gate the King and all his court came out to
meet them. Then there were great rejoicings and kissings and shoutings,
as you may believe.
Boots stood there among them, and he was the hero of it all. “And now,
when am I to marry the Princess?” he asked.
At that the King began to hum and haw. It had been all very well to
promise her to Boots as long as she was sitting in the troll’s house at
the top of the hill, but now that she was back in the castle again it
was a different matter.
“Listen,” said the King; “you shall have her as a bride, of course. I
have never said anything different, but first you must level down the
ridge of rock there in front of the castle, for it is so high and black
that never a ray of sunlight comes in at the windows from one year’s
end to the other.”
Well, that was not in the bargain at all, and Boots did not know how
he was to level down a whole mountain of rock. But the King would not
listen to him. Not till the ridge was levelled down could he marry the
Princess, and moreover, if he failed in doing it, his head should be
cut from his shoulders.
Then Boots went out to Dapplegrim’s stall, and his mouth was down at
the corners, as you may well believe.
“Well, Master, and what is the matter now?” asked Dapplegrim.
Then Boots told him all about it, and what he had said, and what the
King had said, and how he feared he was to lose his head after all.
“Oh, well, this is not such an easy task,” said the great grey steed,
“but, after all, we may be able to do it. But first do you ask the King
for twelve pounds of iron and fifteen pounds of steel, and have new
shoes put upon my feet, for we will need them.”
That is just what Boots did. He asked the King for twelve pounds of
iron and fifteen pounds of steel, and the King did not refuse him. And
this time it took eight blacksmiths to shoe the great grey horse.
When Dapplegrim was newly shod, Boots mounted upon his back and rode
away toward the ridge of rock, and the King and all his court came out
to watch what he would do.
Dapplegrim rode up to the top of the rocky ridge, and then he stamped
with his great iron-shod feet, and he was so heavy that at once the
ridge sank down fifteen ells into the earth.
Then Boots rode up and down, and every time Dapplegrim stamped the
ridge sank down under him, until at last it was as level with the earth
as the palm of your hand.
“And now may I have the Princess for my wife?” asked Boots.
Of course, of course! The King had never intended anything else, but
before she could go to church with Boots she must have a horse as great
and fine as Dapplegrim to ride upon. Boots might have three days to
find such a horse for his bride, but at the end of that time, if he had
not found it, his head would be cut from his shoulders.
Well, that seemed a hard thing to Boots. That had never been in the
bargain at all. Besides, he doubted if there was such another horse as
Dapplegrim in all the world beside.
Out he went to Dapplegrim’s stall, and if he had been down in the
mouth before he was ten times more so now.
“Well, Master, what is it this time?” asked the great grey horse. “Are
you not to have the Princess for your wife?”
Yes, Boots was to have her, but not before he should do this and that,
and he told the whole story to Dapplegrim.
“This is a harder task than either of the others,” said the great
horse. “There is only one other horse in the whole world that is my
match in size and strength. Whether or not we can get him I do not
know, for he is very wild and fierce. But before we start out on this
adventure I must be new shod with fifteen pounds of iron and fifteen
pounds of steel. Besides this, you must ask the King to give you a
barrel of tar, twelve sacks of grain, and the carcasses of twelve oxen,
and twelve hides of bullocks set all over with sharp spikes. Have these
loaded upon me, and then we will set out, and what is to happen will
happen.”
Well, Boots went to the King and asked for all these things, and the
King did not refuse him. Dapplegrim was new shod with fifteen pounds of
iron and fifteen pounds of steel, and upon his back were loaded twelve
sacks of grain, and the carcasses of twelve oxen, and the hides of
twelve bullocks set all over with sharp spikes, and a barrel of tar.
Last of all, Boots mounted his steed and away they rode, and the earth
shook beneath them, and the wind whistled past their ears.
They went on and on and on, till all the world seemed left behind, and
at last they came out into a barren plain, and all the air around them
and overhead seemed filled with the sound of the beating of great wings.
“Now tell me,” said Boots, “what is that sound I hear, for it almost
makes me feel afraid?”
“That,” answered Dapplegrim, “is the beating of the wings of all the
birds of the air that have been sent out to stop us. But do not be
afraid. Cut a hole in each of the bags we carry, so that the grain will
run out, and the birds will be so busy picking it up that they will
never notice us.”
This Boots did, and the grain ran out in a stream behind them. Then
the birds gathered in such countless numbers that the whole plain was
covered with them. But they were so busy pecking up the grain that they
never even looked at Boots or the great grey horse.
On rode Boots and on he rode, and after a while he and Dapplegrim came
into a great black forest.
Then from all around there sounded a mighty roaring that fairly shook
the trees, it was so loud.
“What is that sound?” asked Boots. “Now tell me, for it almost makes me
feel afraid.”
“That,” said Dapplegrim, “is the roaring of all the beasts of the earth
that have been sent out to stop us, but do you throw down the twelve
carcasses of the oxen, and the beasts will be so busy eating them that
they will never even look at us.”
Boots did as Dapplegrim bade him, and immediately from behind the trees
and thickets sprang out a multitude of wild beasts, and they fell upon
the carcasses and began to tear them and eat. They did not even so much
as look at Dapplegrim or his master.
On and on went Boots and his great grey steed, and now they came out of
the forest upon a place that was covered with great rocks and boulders,
and here Dapplegrim bade Boots light down.
“Master, the time has now come for the hardest part of all our
venture,” said the horse. “It may be I will not come out of it alive,
nor you either, but that is as it may be. Take down the barrel of tar
and set it yonder among the rocks, take off my bridle and then cover me
all over with the spiked hides. When this is done, do you climb up in
yonder tree, where you will be out of harm’s way. Presently the steed
that we are in search of will come, and he and I will fight together.
Watch carefully that barrel of tar, for while we are fighting it will
be set on fire. If the fire burns low and smoky, I will be overcome,
and then you must try to escape as best you can, but if the flame
rises straight and clear, then I am winning. In that case make haste to
come down and slip the bridle over the head of the strange horse. Then
he will become gentle and quiet, and you may do with him what you will.”
Boots obeyed Dapplegrim in everything. He took down the barrel of tar
and set it among the rocks. He took off Dapplegrim’s bridle and covered
him all over with the spiked hides. Then he climbed up in the tall tree
near-by and hid himself among its leaves.
No sooner had he done all this than Dapplegrim struck the ground three
times and neighed loud and clear.
At once from far away there came a sound of neighing. Nearer and nearer
it came, and so loud and terrible it was that Boots was filled with
fear. Then from beyond the rocks came galloping a great grey dappled
horse, and if Dapplegrim was big, this one was full as large. If
Dapplegrim was strong, this one was as strong, if not stronger. Fire
flashed from his eyes and smoke poured from his nostrils.
At once he and Dapplegrim began to fight. Up and down they fought, and
sometimes one seemed to be winning and sometimes the other, but always,
whenever the strange horse tried to seize Dapplegrim with his teeth, he
could not, because of the spiked hides that covered him.
As they fought, a spark from their hoofs fell upon the barrel of tar
and set it on fire. The flame of it rose straight and clear through the
air.
At once Boots slipped down from the tree and ran over to where the two
horses were fighting. As soon as he did so, he saw that Dapplegrim had
seized the strange horse by the neck and was holding him with his teeth.
Boots made haste to slip the bridle over the strange horse’s head, and
at once it became quiet and gentle, only it still shook and sweated
from the fight.
Then Boots mounted on the new Dapplegrim’s back and rode back toward
the castle, and the old Dapplegrim trotted along beside him. Safely
they passed through the forest and crossed the plain, and as they
neared the castle they saw that the King and all his court had come out
to meet them, for they had heard the news of their coming.
Boots lighted down from the new Dapplegrim and led both horses to the
King, and the King was filled with wonder and amazement at the sight of
two such horses, and both exactly alike.
“And now,” said Boots, “can you tell me which is the new Dapplegrim and
which the old?”
Well, the King looked them all over from head to tail; he looked at
their eyes and their ears and their hoofs, and not a hair did one have
that was different from the other’s. The King was obliged to own that
he could not tell which was which.
“So I have brought the horse as you bade me,” said Boots, “and now am I
to have the Princess for a wife?”
Well, there was nothing more for the King to do but to let Boots marry
the Princess. But now the Princess herself had something to say about
it.
“Look,” said she to Boots. “You have shown how brave you are: now let
us see whether you are clever as well. I will hide twice, and you shall
hide twice. If you can find me, and I cannot find you, then we will
know you are more clever than I am, and I will marry you. But if you
fail, then you must look elsewhere for a wife.”
Well, Boots did not like that very much, but he did not know how to
refuse. “Very well,” said he. “Then that is the bargain.”
The Princess was to hide first, and this is what she did. She changed
herself into a white duck and floated on the pond that was behind the
castle stable.
Boots hunted for her high and low; he looked everywhere, but he could
not find her. Then he went out to Dapplegrim’s stall and told him all
about it.
“You should have come to me in the first place,” said Dapplegrim. “Do
you take a gun and go out to the pond behind the castle stable. Aim at
the white duck that is floating there, as though you meant to shoot it,
and you will find the Princess fast enough.”
Boots did as Dapplegrim bade him. He took his gun out to the pond
behind the stable, and there, sure enough, was a white duck floating
about in the sunshine.
Boots took aim at it as though to shoot. Then the Princess was terribly
frightened. “Do not shoot,” she cried; “it is I, the Princess.”
So Boots had found her once.
The next time the Princess hid she turned herself into a loaf of bread,
and lay with the other loaves on the kitchen table. Boots hunted for
her high and low, but nowhere could he find her. Then he went out to
Dapplegrim’s stall.
“What shall I do about it now?” he said. “I have hunted for the
Princess everywhere, and still I cannot find her.”
“Why did you not come to me in the first place?” asked Dapplegrim. “Do
you take a knife and lay it on the middle loaf that is on the kitchen
table, as though to cut it, and you will find the Princess fast enough.”
Well, Boots was not slow to do as Dapplegrim bade him. He took a sharp
knife and went into the castle kitchen, and there were seven fresh
loaves of bread on the table.
Boots drew the middle loaf toward him, and laid the sharp edge of the
knife on it as though to cut it.
Then the loaf cried aloud in a woeful voice, “Alas, do not cut me! It
is I, your Princess.”
And so Boots had found the Princess for the second time.
Now it was Boots’ turn to hide, and while the Princess was not looking
he changed himself into a fly and hid in Dapplegrim’s ear.
The Princess hunted for him everywhere, all through the castle, but she
could not find him. Last of all she came to Dapplegrim’s stall to look
there, but when she tried to enter Dapplegrim would not let her. He
kicked and snorted and bit until the Princess was fairly frightened.
At last she was obliged to own that she could not find Boots. Then at
once he stood before her in his own proper shape.
“You have failed once,” he said. “Now let us see whether you will be
any more clever the second time.”
The next thing Boots did was to change himself into a clod of earth and
hide in the hollow of Dapplegrim’s foot.
The Princess hunted for him everywhere, but she could not find him.
Then she came to Dapplegrim’s stall, and this time he let her enter.
The Princess looked him all over but could not find Boots. Last of all
she tried to lift Dapplegrim’s feet to look under them, but this she
could not do. The great grey horse stood like a rock, and she could not
move him.
Then the Princess was obliged to own herself beaten.
At once Boots stood before her. “Now,” said he, “I have fairly won you
for a bride, and you shall not say no to me.”
“Yes, yes; that is right,” said the Princess. “Now I know that you are
the cleverest as well as the bravest man in all the world, and you and
you alone shall be my husband.”
So Boots and the Princess were married with great rejoicing and
magnificence, and if anyone were sorry it was not the Princess nor
Boots.
As for Dapplegrim, nothing was too good for him. If he had wished it,
he might have had a bridle of gold and a saddle set with precious gems,
and a silver bed to lie on. He lived to a good old age, and they were
all happy for ever after.
THE FISH PRINCE
A HINDU FOLK TALE
THERE were once a Rajah and Ranee who had no child, though every day
they prayed that one might be sent to them. For this reason the Ranee
at last became quite melancholy, and took no more pleasure in anything.
One day some fish were brought to the palace kitchen to be prepared
as usual for the Rajah’s dinner. Among them was one such as the cook
had never seen before. Its scales shone with all the colours of the
rainbow, and upon its head was a mark that looked like a little golden
crown. The cook examined it curiously, and then was about to prepare it
for cooking as he had done with the others, but it lifted up its head
and spoke to him.
“Do not kill me,” said the fish. “Instead, put me in a basin of water
and carry me to the Ranee, and it may be I will amuse her.”
The cook was very much surprised to hear a fish speaking, and it seemed
to him such a wonderful creature that it might very well amuse even the
Ranee; he therefore put it in a basin of water, and gave it to a maid,
and bade her carry it to the queen.
The maid did as she was told, and the Ranee was indeed very much
pleased with the beautiful little fish. All day she kept it beside her
and watched its quick movements and its changing colours. The next day
she was even more pleased with it, and before long she became so fond
of it that she could not have loved it better if it had been her own
child. She named it Muchie Rajah, or the Fish Prince, and called it her
son.
After a time the fish grew so large that it could no longer live in the
basin, and then it was put in a marble bath. As it still continued to
grow, the Ranee had a great tank made for it out in the palace gardens.
Here every day she went to visit it. She always carried some rice with
her, and when she called it, the great fish would rise through the
water and eat from her hand, and play about where she could see it.
But one day when the Ranee came to the tank she saw Muchie Rajah lying
on the water very still. His colours looked dull, and when she called
to him he came to her slowly, and would not eat the rice she had
brought to him.
The Ranee was greatly troubled. “Alas, my dear son,” she cried, “what
is it that ails you? Are you sick, that you will not eat the good rice
I have brought to you?”
“I am not sick,” answered the great fish, “but I am very, very lonely.
My mother, I beg of you to have a little room built in the side of
the tank, and bring some young girl to live in it all the time and be
company for me.”
The Ranee could refuse nothing to her dear Muchie Rajah. She
immediately sent for masons and stone-cutters, and had a little room
made in the side of the tank. The room was so cleverly built that the
fish could reach his head over the side of it, and yet it was protected
from the water in such a way that one could live in it safely and not
be drowned. The walls of it were carved and coloured and set with
precious stones, so that it was very beautiful, and there were hanging
lamps in it to give light by day and night.
After all was finished, the Ranee sent out messengers through the
country to find some beautiful girl to come and live in the little
room, and be the bride of her dear Muchie Rajah. To the parents of such
a girl she promised to give a lac of gold mohurs.
But though the messengers journeyed far and near, they could find no
parents who were willing to give their daughter to the Fish Prince.
“No, no,” they said; “our daughters are worth more to us than a lac of
gold mohurs. This Muchie Rajah is very large and strong and fierce, and
what he wishes is not a bride, but some young girl to eat.”