Long ages ago there lived on the banks of a mighty river a man who
had no wife, and no family, and no possessions, but only one cow; and
when he mourned because he had no children, and his cow had no calf,
and that he had no milk and no butter to live upon, his cow one day
gave birth, not to a calf, but to a monster, which seemed only to be
sent to mock him in his misery and distress; for while it had the head,
and horns, and long tail of a bull, it had the body of a man. Never was
such an ugly monster seen, and when the poor man considered it he said,
"What shall I now do with this monster? It is not good for him to live;
I will fetch my bow and arrows, and will make an end of him." But
when he had strung his bow and fixed his arrow, Massang of the bull's
head, seeing what he was going to do, cried out, "Master, slay me not;
and doubt not but that your clemency shall have its reward."
At these words the poor man was moved to clemency, and he put up his
arrows again, and let Massang live, but he turned away his face from
beholding him. When Massang saw that his master could not look upon
him, he turned him and fled into the woods, and wandered on till he
came to a place where was a black-coloured man sitting at the foot
of a tree. Seeing him, Massang said, "Who and whence art thou?"
And the black-coloured man made answer, "I am a full-grown man of
good understanding, born of the dark woods."
And Massang said, "Whither goest thou? I will go with thee and be
thy companion."
And the black-coloured man got up, and they wandered on together
till they came to a place in the open meadow, where they saw a
green-coloured man sitting on the grass. Seeing him, Massang said,
"Who and whence art thou?"
And the green-coloured man replied, "I am a full-grown man of good
understanding, born of the green meadows; take me with you too,
and I will be your companion."
And he wandered on with the other two, Massang and the black-coloured
man, till they came to a place where was a white-coloured man sitting
on a crystal rock. Seeing him, Massang said, "Who and whence art thou?"
And the white-coloured man replied, "I am a full-grown man of good
understanding, born of the crystal rock; take me with you, and let
me be your companion."
And he wandered on with the other three, Massang, and the
black-coloured man, and the green-coloured man, till they came to a
stream flowing between barren sandy banks; and farther along was a
grass-clad hill with a little dwelling on the top. Of this dwelling
they took possession, and inside it they found provisions of every
kind; and in the yard cattle and all that was required to maintain
life. Here, therefore, they dwelt; three of them going out every day
to hunt, and one staying at home to keep guard over the place.
Now the first day, Massang went to the hunt, and took with him the
white-coloured man and the green-coloured man; the black-coloured
man being thus left in charge of the homestead, set himself to
prepare the dinner. He had made the butter, and sat with the milk
simmering, cooking the meat (1), when he heard a rustling sound as of
one approaching stealthily. Looking round to discover who came there,
he saw a little old woman not more than a span high, carrying a bundle
no bigger than an apple on her back, coming up a ladder she had set
ready for herself, without asking leave or making any sort of ceremony.
"Lackaday!" cried the little old woman, speaking to herself,
"methinks I see a youngster cooking good food." But to him she said
in a commanding tone, "Listen to me now, and give me some of thy milk
and meat to taste."
Though she was so small, she wore such a weird, uncanny air that the
black-coloured man, though he had boasted of being a full-grown man
of good understanding, durst not say her "Nay;" though he contented
himself with keeping to the letter of her behest, and only gave her
the smallest possible morsel of the food he had prepared, only just
enough, as she had said, "to taste." But lo and behold! no sooner had
she put the morsel to her lips than the whole portion disappeared,
meat, milk, pot and all; and, more marvellous still, the little old
wife had disappeared with them.
Ashamed at finding himself thus overmatched by such a little old
wench, he reasoned with himself that he must invent something to
tell his companions which should have a more imposing sound than
the sorry story of what had actually occurred. Turning over all his
belongings to help himself to an idea, he found two horse's-hoofs,
and with these he made the marks as of many horsemen all round the
dwelling, and then shot his own arrow into the middle of the yard.
He had hardly finished these preparations when his companions came
home from the hunt.
"Where is our meal?" inquired they. "Where is the butter you were to
have made, and the meat you were to have cooked?"
"Scarcely had I made all ready," replied the black-coloured man,
"than a hundred strange men, on a hundred wild horses, came tearing
through the place; and what could I do to withstand a hundred? Thus
they have taken all the butter, and milk, and meat, and me they beat
and bound, so that I have had enough to do to set myself free, and
scarcely can I move from the effect of their blows. Go out now and
see for yourselves."
So they went out; and when they saw the marks of the horses'-hoofs
all round the dwelling, and the arrow shot into the middle of the
courtyard, they said, "He hath spoken true things."
The next day Massang went to the hunt, and took with him the
black-coloured man and the white-coloured man. The green-coloured man
being thus left in charge of the homestead, set himself to prepare the
dinner; and it was no sooner ready than the little old wife came in,
as she had done the day before, and played the same game.
"This is doubtless how it fell out with the black-coloured man,"
said he to himself, as soon as she was gone; "but neither can I own
that I was matched by such a little old wife, nor yet can I tell the
same story about the horsemen. I know what I will do: I will fetch
up a yoke of oxen, and make them tramp about the place, and when the
others come home, I will say some men came by with a herd of cattle,
and, overpowering me, carried off the victuals." All this he did;
and when his companions came home, and saw for themselves the marks
the oxen had made in tramping up the soil, they said, "He hath spoken
true things."
The day after, Massang went hunting, and took with him the
black-coloured man and the green-coloured man. The white-coloured
man being left in charge of the homestead, set himself to prepare
the dinner. Nor was it long before the same little old woman who had
visited his companions made her appearance; and soon she had made an
end of all the provisions. "This is doubtless how it fell out with
the green-coloured man yesterday, and the black-coloured man the
day before," said the white-coloured man to himself; "but neither
can I own any more than they that I was overmatched by such a little
old wife, nor yet can I tell the same story as they." So he fetched
a mule in from the field, and made it trot all round the dwelling,
that when his companions came in he might tell them that a party of
merchants had been by, with a file of mules carrying their packs of
merchandize, who had held him bound, and eaten up the provisions.
All this he did; and when his companions came home, and saw for
themselves the marks of the mule-hoofs all round the dwelling, they
said, "He hath spoken true things."
The next day it was Massang's turn to stay at home, nor did he neglect
the duty which fell upon him of cooking the food against the return
of the rest. As he sat thus occupied, up came the little old woman,
as on all the other days.
"Lackaday!" she exclaimed, as she set eyes on him. "Methinks I
see a youngster cooking good food!" And to him she cried, in her
imperious tone, "Listen to me now, and give me some of thy milk and
meat to taste."
When Massang saw her, he said within himself, "Surely now this is she
who hath appeared to the other three; and when they said that strangers
had broken in, and overpowered them, and stolen the food, was it not
that she is a witch-woman and enchanted it away. She only asks to taste
it; but if I do her bidding, who knows what may follow?" So he observed
her, that he might discover what way there was of over-matching her;
thus he espied her bundle, and bethought him it contained the means
of her witcheries. To possess himself of it he had first to devise
the means of getting her to go an errand, and leave it behind her.
"Belike you could help me to some fresh water, good wife," he said,
in a simple, coaxing tone; and she, thinking to serve her purpose by
keeping on good terms with him, replied,--
"That can I; but give me wherewithal to fetch it."
To keep her longer absent, he gave her a pail with a hole in it,
with which she went out. Looking after her, he saw that she made
her way straight up to the clouds, and squeezed one into her pail,
but no sooner was it poured in, than it ran out again. Meantime, he
possessed himself of her bundle, and turned it over; withal it was
not so big as an apple, it contained many things: a hank of catgut,
which he exchanged for a hank of hempen cord; an iron hammer, which
he exchanged for a wooden mallet; and a pair of iron pincers, which
he exchanged for wooden ones.
He had hardly tied up the bundle again, when the old woman came back,
very angry with the trick that had been played upon her with the
leaking pail, and exclaiming, "How shall water be brought in a pail
where there is a hole?" Then she added further, and in a yet angrier
key, "If thou wilt not give me to taste of thy food, beware! for then
all that thou hast becomes mine." And when she found that he heeded
her not, but went on with what he was doing, just as if she had not
spoken, she cried out, furiously,--
"If we are not to be on good terms, we must e'en match our strength;
if we are not to have peace, we must have war; if I may not eat with
you, I will fight you."
"That I am ready for," answered Massang, as one sure of an easy
victory.
"Not so confident!" replied the old one. "Though I am small and thou
so big, yet have I overcome mightier ones than thou."
"In what shall we match our strength?" said Massang, not heeding
her banter.
"We will have three trials," replied the old one; "the cord proof,
the hammer proof, and the pincers proof. And first the cord proof. I
will first bind thee, and if thou canst burst my bonds, well; then
thou shalt also bind me."
Then Massang saw that he had done well to possess himself of her
instruments, but he gave assent to her mode of proof, and let her
bind him as tight as ever she would; but as she had only the hempen
cord to bind him with, which he had put in her bundle in place of
the catgut, he broke it easily with his strength, and set himself
free again. Then he bound her with the catgut, so that she was not
able by any means to unloose herself.
"True, herein thou hast conquered," she owned, as she lay bound and
unable to move, "but now we will have the pincers proof." And as he
had promised to wage three trials with her, he set her free.
Then with her pincers she took him by the breast; but, as he had
changed her iron pincers for the wooden ones, he hardly felt the
pinch, and she did him no harm. But when, with her iron pincers, he
seized her, she writhed and struggled so that he pulled out a piece
of flesh as big as an earthen pot, and she cried out in great pain.--
"Of a truth thou art a formidable fellow, but now we will have the
hammer proof," and she made Massang lie down; but when she would
have given him a powerful blow on the chest with her iron hammer,
the handle of the wooden mallet Massang had given her in its stead
broke short off, and she was not able to hurt him. But Massang made
her iron hammer glowing hot in the fire, and belaboured her both on
the head and body so that she was glad to escape at the top of her
speed and howling wildly.
As she flew past, Massang's three companions came in from hunting
and said, "Surely now you have had a trial to endure." And Massang
answered,--
"Of a truth you are miserable fellows all, and moreover have
spoken that which is not true. Was it like men to let yourselves
be overmatched by a little old wife? But now I have tamed her, let
be. Let us go and seek for her corpse; maybe we shall find treasure
in the place where she lays it."
When they heard him speak of treasure they willingly went out after
him, and, following the track of blood which had fallen from the
witch-woman's wounds as she went along, they came to a place where
was an awful cleft in a mighty rock, and peeping through they saw, far
below, the bloody body of the old witch-woman, lying on a heap of gold
and jewels and shining adamant armour and countless precious things.
Then Massang said, "Shall you three go down and hand me up the spoil
by means of a rope of which I will hold the end, or shall I go down
and hand it up to you?"
But they three all made answer together, "This woman is manifestly
none other but a Schimnu (2). We dare not go near her. Go you down."
So Massang let himself down by the rope, and sent up the spoil by the
same means to his companions, who when they had possession of it said
thus to one another,--
"If we draw Massang up again, we cannot deny in verity that the spoil
is his, as he has won it in every way, but if we leave him down below
it becomes ours." So they left him below, and when he looked that
they should have hauled him up they gave never a sign or sound. When
he saw that, he said thus to himself, "My three companions have left
me here that they may enjoy the spoil alone. For me nothing is left
but to die!"
But as it grieved him so to die in his health and strength, he cast
about him to see whether in all that cave which had been so full
of valuables there was not something stored that was good for food,
yet found he nothing save three cherry-stones.
So he took the cherry-stones and planted them in the earth, saying,
"If I be truly Massang, may these be three full-grown cherry-trees by
the time I wake; but if not, then let me die the death." And with that
he laid him down to sleep with the body of the Schimnu for a pillow.
Being thus defiled by contact with the corpse, he slept for many
years. When at last he woke, he found that three cherry-trees had
sprung up from the seeds he planted and now reached to the top of
the rock. Rejoicing greatly therefore, he climbed up by their means
and reached the earth.
First he bent his steps to his late dwelling, to look for his
companions, but it was deserted, and no one lived therein. So, taking
his iron bow and his arrows, he journeyed farther.
Presently he came to a place where there were three fine houses,
with gardens and fields and cattle and all that could be desired by
the heart of man. These were the houses which his three companions
had built for themselves out of the spoil of the cave. And when he
would have gone in, their wives said--for they had taken to them wives
also--"Thy companions are not here; they are gone out hunting." So he
took up his iron bow and his arrows again, and went on to seek them,
and as he went by the way he saw them coming towards him with the
game they had taken with their bows. Then he strung his iron bow and
would have shot at them; but they, falling down before him, cried out,
"Slay us not. Only let us live, and behold our houses, and our wives,
and our cattle, and all that we have is in thine hand, to do with it
as it seemeth good to thee."
Then he put up his arrows again, and said to them only these words,
"In truth, friends, ye dealt evilly with me in that ye left me to
perish in the cave."
But they, owning their fault, again begged him that he would stay with
them and let their house be his house, and they entreated him. But
he would not stay with them, saying,--
"A promise is upon me, which I made when my master would have killed
me and I entreated him to spare my life, for I said to him that I
would repay his clemency to him if he spared me. Now, therefore,
let me go that I may seek him out."
Then, when they heard those words, they let him go, and he journeyed
on farther to find out his master.
One day of his journey, as he was wearied with walking, he sat down
towards evening by the side of a well, and as he sat an enchantingly
beautiful maiden came towards the well as if to draw water, and as
she came along he saw with astonishment that at every footstep as she
lifted up her feet a fragrant flower sprang up out of the ground (3),
one after another wherever she touched the ground. Massang stretched
out his hand to offer to draw water for her, but she stopped not at
the fountain but passed on, and Massang, in awe at her beauty and
power, durst not speak to her, but rose up and followed behind her
the whole way she went.
On went the maiden, and ever on followed Massang, over burning plain
and through fearful forest, past the sources of mighty rivers and over
the snow-clad peaks of the everlasting mountains (4), till they reached
the dwelling of the gods and the footstool of dread Churmusta (5).