Now this old witch had a habit of sleeping for seven days and nights,

and it was impossible to rouse her.

When her daughters saw the prince they admired him very much, and said:

'It is a shame that so handsome a boy should be destroyed! Come,

our mother shall not have him to eat; we must help him to escape in

some way.' 'We will!' cried the sisters; and they thought of a plan

of escape.

The eldest sister gave him her comb, and said: 'When my mother

overtakes thee, throw this behind thee and hasten on; a thick forest

will spring up between thee and my mother, who will have difficulty

in passing through it.'

The second sister gave him a pair of scissors, and said: 'When my

mother overtakes thee, throw these scissors behind thee--jagged rocks,

hard as adamant, will rise between thee and my mother, who will have

difficulty in crossing them, but hasten thou on.'

The youngest sister gave him a lump of salt, and said: 'When my mother

overtakes thee, throw this behind thee--between you will roll a sea,

which my mother will never cross.' Then they carefully saddled their

own steed, gave the youth everything he wanted, and sent him away. He

thanked them heartily and set out.

Seven days passed. The witch awoke, and looked for her dinner, but

it was no longer there. She went to her steed and enquired of it,

'Shall we eat bread or shall we set out at once?' 'Whether we eat bread

or not we cannot overtake him,' said the steed to the witch. She did

not abandon her intention, but, having eaten bread, mounted her horse

and set off in pursuit of the prince.

After riding some distance she overtook him. The prince looked back,

and, seeing the old woman approach, drew the comb from his pocket and

threw it down behind him. Between them, there rose a forest so thick

that even a fly could not go through it. The old woman was annoyed

and hindered, but at last, in some way or other, she passed through it.

When she reached the open country she spurred her horse on with might

and main, and again approached the prince, who looked behind and saw

the old woman. He took the scissors from his pocket, and threw them

down. Between them appeared a jagged rock, hard as steel, so that no

iron could cut it; the horse cut its feet, and, not being able to go

any further, fell down; yet the old woman would not give in. She jumped

from the horse's back and went forward on foot. She passed the rocks,

reached the plain again, and hastened on.

She flew over the ground as if she had wings. The prince looked back,

and saw how near the old woman was. He took the piece of salt from

his pocket, and threw it behind him. There flowed between them a sea

so vast that no bird could cross it. The old woman was not daunted,

even by this, she waded into the sea, determined to cross it, but

she was drowned.

The prince often looked behind, but he could no longer see the old

woman. Then his heart was filled with joy, and he went on gaily. He

himself knew not whither he went. He grew hungry and more hungry,

until he was ravenous.

At last he saw a fire: he went up, and there was burning a huge fire,

over which hung a kettle of arrack, and food cooking; around it lay

nine devis, who were brothers. They were fast asleep, but there was

a lame one watching as sentinel. The prince did not wait to ask leave

of the devis; he came up, lifted the pot off the fire, took some food,

and when he had eaten, put the pot back. He then lay down and began to

snore loudly. The lame devi looked on with amazement from a distance.

A short time afterwards a devi awoke. He looked round and saw a

human being sleeping there. He said joyfully: 'This will be a dainty

morsel for us,' and went towards the boy. But the lame devi followed

him and said: 'Leave him alone, lay not a hand upon him; he is to

be feared--just now he took our pot from the fire, ate some food,

and placed it on the fire again; he has done alone what is difficult

for us ten.' The devi thought better of it, and turned away.

A second devi then rose and did the same, but the lame devi prevented

him. As each devi awoke he went to the boy, but the lame devi took

care of them.

When all the devis were roused and had begun to eat, the prince woke

up too. He came to the devis and asked them to swear brotherhood. The

devis said: 'Who art thou, who art so courageous? What brought thee

here?' The prince answered: 'I was hungry, I saw the fire and I came

to the fire.' Then the devis said: 'Very well, if thou wishest us

to swear brotherhood with thee, first go till thou findest cross

roads, there a maiden spreads out a handkerchief; if thou seizest

this handkerchief and bringest it here, we shall swear brotherhood

with thee; if thou failest, thou art none of us. Many have tried to

take this handkerchief, but the maiden always kills them.' The devis

thought that the prince would be killed too, and that they would thus

get rid of him.

The prince set out and came to the cross roads, and, behold, a

beautiful maiden flew down; a handkerchief was spread out in front

of her, and hid her from his eyes. The prince came up and seized

the handkerchief, but just as he was going away, the maiden attacked

him. The prince was victorious in the fight. After the combat a golden

slipper was left in the prince's hand.

He came to the devis with the handkerchief, and gave them the golden

slipper, saying: 'Go to the town, change this for money, and bring

it home.'

The devis sent the lame devi with the golden slipper. When he reached

the town he met a merchant, to whom he showed the slipper. The merchant

complained and said: 'My wife had golden slippers, thou must have

stolen this one.' The devi said that they had found the slipper--he

swore, but the merchant would not believe him. He took the slipper,

and locked up the lame devi.

For a long time the other devis waited for their lame brother; they

watched, but no lame devi was to be seen. Then they sent the ninth

brother to seek him. When he arrived in the town where the devi

had gone to exchange the golden slipper, he enquired after his lame

brother. Hearing him ask for a lame devi, they said: 'This must be

an accomplice of the thief,' and they locked him up too.

The remaining devis waited for their ninth brother, and when they saw

that he did not come, the eighth was sent, but he also was taken;

then the seventh, sixth, fifth, fourth, third, second, and at last

the first devi went, but none of them returned.

The prince said to himself: 'What can have happened to these devis? I

will go and seek them, and perchance find out what misfortune has

overtaken them.' So he arose and went forth.

The merchant heard some one was again asking for the lame devi, and

wished to entrap him, but the prince said: 'If I do not find the

neighbour to the golden slipper, thou mayst call us liars, and do

what thou wilt to the devis and me; but if I find it thou hast lied,

and we shall do what we wish to thee.' 'Agreed!' said the merchant,

and the prince went forth to seek the other golden slipper.

He travelled far, and came at last to a kingdom by the seashore. This

kingdom was ruled by a maiden, fair as the sun. Whoever came to that

kingdom to sell wheat was met by the maiden, who cast the wheat and

its owner into the sea, and there was no escape.

When the prince heard of this, he said to himself: 'I shall bring wheat

to this country, and see what the fair one can do.' He went for the

wheat, and filled a boat with grain, seated himself in another boat,

and set out for the kingdom. On nearing the shore there appeared, from

no one knows where, a beautiful damsel. She stretched out her hand,

and was about to sink the grain, when the prince struck the boat with

his foot and upset it. Then he seized the maiden's hand and drew her

towards him. She, seeing that she was outwitted, pulled with all her

might, and escaped from his hands, but left her rings behind her.

Thus was the maiden defeated. After this, whoever wished to bring

wheat brought it, and there was plenty in that kingdom.

The people of the country fell down and kissed the knees of the prince,

saying: 'We beseech thee, be our king.' But he would not, and replied:

'I am come on other business, I wish for nothing but to find a certain

slipper,' and he told his tale. The slipper could not be found,

so he arose and left that land.

He went on again and came into another country. Here he learnt that

a beautiful maiden had killed the king's son, who was buried in a

vault. Every night the maiden came there and beat him with twigs. When

she did this he came back to life, they supped together, and passed the

time merrily until morning, when she again beat him with twigs. Then

he became a corpse, and she flew away.

When the prince heard this tale, he went to aid the unfortunate

youth. He entered the tomb and waited. Behold, a lovely damsel flew

down, took twigs from her pocket, and beat the king's son until he

came back to life; they supped and made merry until morning. As she

was about to beat the youth and kill him again, the prince snatched

the twigs from her hand; so the king's son lived. Then the prince

took him away, and led him to his father.

Here, too, the prince was offered the throne, but he did not wish

to be king. 'If I could find a certain golden slipper, I should be

happy,' said he; 'I must go forth and seek it.' And he set forth on

his quest again.

When he had gone some way, he came to a wide plain. He presently saw

a beautiful house, and said to himself: 'I wonder who lives there,'

and he went on towards the house. On the way he saw an Arab feeding

some mules, and said: 'Canst thou tell me whose house that is,

brother?' The Arab looked round about and replied: 'Shall I swallow

thee head first or feet first?' 'I asked thee about the house, why

wilt thou not answer?' said the prince. Again the Arab stared round

and said: 'Shall I swallow thee by the head or by the feet?' 'As to

the matter of swallowing, I shall soon show thee what I shall do,'

said the prince, giving the Arab such a blow that it sent him over

nine mountains. Then he struck the mules, and went to the house.

He wandered all round it, and was much delighted with its

appearance. Then he went inside through a window, and visited every

room. In one of these he saw a golden throne, and on it were golden

slippers like the one he sought. He said to himself: 'Perhaps this

is the house of the fair damsel who gave me the slipper. I shall wait

and see what happens.' He sat under the throne and waited.

Soon after, there flew in a beautiful maiden, then another, yet a

third, and at last the Arab. They sat down to eat. In the twinkling

of an eye the Arab laid the cloth for the sisters, and whatever heart

or soul could wish was spread upon it.

After a short time the eldest sister took wine and said: 'May God

grant long life to the youth who took from me the handkerchief and

the golden slipper.' She drank, and put the bowl down.

Then the second sister took it and said: 'Long life to the youth who

snatched the rings from my hand, and gave wheat to a kingdom.' She

drank, and put the bowl down.

Then the youngest sister took it and said: 'Long life to the youth

who took the twigs from my hand, and restored life to a prince.' She

drank, and put the bowl down.

At last the Arab took the wine and said: 'Long life to the youth who

gave me a blow, and sent me over nine mountains.' He drank, and put

the bowl down.

Then the prince appeared from under the throne, took the wine and

said: 'I have also toasts to propose. May God grant long life to the

maiden from whom I took the handkerchief.' He took from his pocket

the handkerchief and gave it to the eldest sister. 'May God grant

long life to the maiden from whom I took the rings,' and he gave the

rings to the second sister. 'May God grant long life to the maiden

from whom I took the twigs.' He returned the twigs to the youngest

sister, and turning to the Arab, he said: 'May God grant long life

to the Arab whom I struck and sent over nine mountains.' He drank,

and put down the bowl.

Then the three sisters jumped up and said: 'He will marry

me.' 'No! me.' And they began to quarrel. The prince said: 'Wherefore

quarrel one with another? I shall wed the youngest sister, since I

am the youngest of three brothers, and you elder shall wed my elder

brothers.' The maidens asked him: 'What is the object of thy journey

hither?' 'To seek for the other golden slipper, and lo! I have found it

here,' answered the prince. 'Because of this slipper, nine brothers,

devis, are imprisoned in a certain town, and if I return without it,

I, too, shall be imprisoned to-day with them.' 'This slipper is thine,

and as many more as thou wishest, take them with thee, seat thyself

on the Arab's back, and in three hours thou wilt be in the town,'

said the sisters.

The prince did as they told him. He filled a bag with golden slippers,

sat on the Arab's back, and in three hours he was in the town.

The devis rejoiced greatly. They called the merchant, and he brought

slippers. He took one by one his own slippers, but, behold, not one

of them would fit the golden slipper. Then, when the prince produced

his bagful of golden slippers, the merchant was proved a liar.

The prince gave the merchant into the hands of the devis, and said:

'Do to him what ye please, sell all his possessions, but I must go

at once on my way.' When the devis heard this, they begged him to

stay with them. But he would not consent.

The prince came to the three beautiful sisters, and married the

youngest. The sisters gave the Arab a saddle bag in which was

everything for the journey, placed in his hand a tree, and said:

'Go to the kingdom of the prince's father, and when thou art near the

palace, in such and such a place, plant this tree. It will turn into a

great plane tree, and underneath, a beautiful stream will flow; there,

on the banks of the stream, lay the cloth, and prepare everything

for our coming.'

The Arab did everything as he was commanded. Then the maidens

came. Every man and woman in the kingdom heard of this, and went out

to look at them. The parents were mourning for their long-lost son.

The cup of water had not changed to blood, but they had given up all

hope of finding him. At last they could stand it no longer, and they

too went to see the maidens.

When the prince saw his mother and father approach, he feigned

surprise, and asked why they mourned. They answered that they had

lost a son, and therefore they mourned. The prince said: 'I am your

long-lost son.' The king and queen rejoiced, and took him home. They

prepared such a wedding that the roof of the palace resounded with

merriment.

XI

CONKIAJGHARUNA [8]

There was and there was not, there was a miserable peasant. He had a

wife and a little daughter. So poor was this peasant that his daughter

was called Conkiajgharuna (the little girl in rags).

Some time passed, and his wife died. He was unhappy before, but

now a greater misfortune had befallen him. He grieved and grieved,

and at last he said to himself: 'I will go and take another wife;

she will mind the house, and tend my orphan child.' So he arose and

took a second wife, but this wife brought with her a daughter of her

own. When this woman came into her husband's house and saw his child,

she was angry in heart.

She treated Conkiajgharuna badly. She petted her own daughter, but

scolded her stepdaughter, and tried to get rid of her. Every day she

gave her a piece of badly-cooked bread, and sent her out to watch

the cow, saying: 'Here is a loaf; eat of it, give to every wayfarer,

and bring the loaf home whole.' The girl went, and felt very miserable.

Once she was sitting sadly in the field, and began to weep

bitterly. The cow listened, and then opened its mouth, and said: 'Why

art thou weeping? what troubles thee?' The girl told her sad tale. The

cow said: 'In one of my horns is honey, and in the other is butter,

which thou canst take if thou wilt, so why be unhappy?' The girl took

the butter and the honey, and in a short time she grew plump. When

the stepmother noticed this she did not know what to do for rage. She

rose, and after that every day she gave her a basket of wool with her;

this wool was to be spun and brought home in the evening finished. The

stepmother wished to tire the girl out with toil, so that she should

grow thin and ugly.

Once when Conkiajgharuna was tending the cow, it ran away on to a

roof. [9] The girl pursued it, and wished to drive it back to the

road, but she dropped her spindle on the roof. Looking inside she

saw an old woman seated, and said to her: 'Good mother, wilt thou

give me my spindle?' The old dame replied: 'I am not able, my child,

come and take it thyself.' This old woman was a devi.

The girl went in and was lifting up her spindle, when the old dame

called out: 'Daughter, daughter, come and look at my head a moment,

I am almost eaten up.'

The girl came and looked at her head. She was filled with horror; all

the worms in the earth seemed to be crawling there. The little girl

stroked her head and removed some, and then said: 'Thou hast a clean

head, why should I look at it?' This conduct pleased the old woman very

much, and she said: 'When thou goest hence, go along such and such a

road, and in a certain place thou wilt see three springs--one white,

one black, and one yellow. Pass by the white and black, and put thy

head in the yellow and lave it with thy hands.'

The girl did this. She went on her way, and came to the three

springs. She passed by the white and black, and bathed her head with

her hands in the yellow fountain. When she looked up she saw that

her hair was quite golden, and her hands, too, shone like gold. In

the evening, when she went home, her stepmother was filled with

fury. After this she sent her own daughter with the cow. Perhaps the

same good fortune would visit her!

So Conkiajgharuna stayed at home while her stepsister drove out the

cow. Once more the cow ran on to the roof. The girl pursued it, and her

spindle fell down. She looked in, and, seeing the devi woman, called

out: 'Dog of an old woman! here! come and give me my spindle!' The old

woman replied: 'I am not able, child, come and take it thyself.' When

the girl came near, the old woman said: 'Come, child, and look at my

head.' The girl came and looked at her head, and cried out: 'Ugh! what

a horrid head thou hast! Thou art a disgusting old woman!' The old

woman said: 'I thank thee, my child; when thou goest on thy way thou

wilt see a yellow, a white, and a black spring. Pass by the yellow and

the white springs, and lave thy head with thy hands in the black one.'

The girl did this. She passed by the yellow and white springs, and

bathed her head in the black one. When she looked at herself she was

black as a negro, and on her head there was a horn. She cut it off

again and again, but it grew larger and larger.

She went home and complained to her mother, who was almost frenzied,

but there was no help for it. Her mother said to herself: 'This is

all the cow's fault, so it shall be killed.'

This cow knew the future. When it learned that it was to be killed,

it went to Conkiajgharuna and said: 'When I am dead, gather my

bones together and bury them in the earth. When thou art in trouble

come to my grave, and cry aloud: "Bring my steed and my royal

robes!"' Conkiajgharuna did exactly as the cow had told her. When it

was dead she took its bones and buried them in the earth.

After this, some time passed. One holiday the stepmother took her

daughter, and they went to church. She placed a trough in front of

Conkiajgharuna, spread a codi (80 lbs.) of millet in the courtyard,

and said: 'Before we come home from church fill this trough with tears,

and gather up this millet, so that not one grain is left.' Then they

went to church.

Conkiajgharuna sat down and began to weep. While she was crying

a neighbour came in and said: 'Why art thou in tears? what is the

matter?' The little girl told her tale. The woman brought all the

brood-hens and chickens, and they picked up every grain of millet, then

she put a lump of salt in the trough and poured water over it. 'There,

child,' said she, 'these are thy tears! Now go and enjoy thyself.'

Conkiajgharuna then thought of the cow. She went to its grave and

called out: 'Bring me my steed and my royal robes!' There appeared at

once a horse and beautiful clothes. Conkiajgharuna put on the garments,

mounted the horse, and went to the church.

There all the folk began to stare at her. They were amazed at her

grandeur. Her stepsister whispered to her mother when she saw her:

'This girl is very much like our Conkiajgharuna!' Her mother smiled

scornfully and said: 'Who would give that sun-darkener such robes?'

Conkiajgharuna left the church before any one else; she changed her

clothes in time to appear before her stepmother in rags. On the way

home, as she was leaping over a stream, in her haste she let her

slipper fall in.

A long time passed. Once when the king's horses were drinking water

in this stream, they saw the shining slipper, and were so afraid

that they would drink no more water. The king was told that there

was something shining in the stream, and that the horses were afraid.

The king commanded his divers to find out what it was. They found

the golden slipper, and presented it to the king. When he saw it he

commanded his viziers, saying: 'Go and seek the owner of this slipper,

for I will wed none but her.' His viziers sought the maiden, but they

could find no one whom the slipper would fit.

Conkiajgharuna's stepmother heard this, adorned her daughter, and

placed her on a throne. Then she went and told the king that she had

a daughter whose foot he might look at, it was exactly the model for

the shoe. She put Conkiajgharuna in a corner, with a big basket over

her. When the king came into the house he sat down on the basket,

in order to try on the slipper.

Conkiajgharuna took a needle and pricked the king from under the

basket. He jumped up, stinging with pain, and asked the stepmother what

she had under the basket. The stepmother replied: ''Tis only a turkey I

have there.' The king sat down on the basket again, and Conkiajgharuna

again stuck the needle into him. The king jumped up, and cried out:

'Lift the basket, I will see underneath!' The stepmother entreated

him, saying: 'Do not blame me, your majesty, it is only a turkey,

and it will run away.'

But the king would not listen to her entreaties. He lifted the basket

up, and Conkiajgharuna came forth, and said: 'This slipper is mine,

and fits me well.' She sat down, and the king found that it was indeed

a perfect fit. Conkiajgharuna became the king's wife, and her shameless

stepmother was left with a dry throat.

XII

ASPHURTZELA [10]

There was, and there was not at all (of God's best may it be!), there

was once a woman. This woman's husband had died young, and left her

four little children: three boys and one girl.

When the children were grown up, their mother said: 'Children,

why do you not look after your patrimony? why do you leave it thus

abandoned?' The children did not know anything about this patrimony,

and asked their mother where it was. The mother told them that it

was in such and such a place, but the children would have to go a

long way. They asked their mother: 'Since it is so far, when we go

to work, who will bring us our food and drink?' The mother answered:

'I shall send your sister with your food.'

The brothers were pleased with their mother's proposal, and made ready

to start. Their mother gave them onion and garlic with them, and said:

'As you are going along, cut the skin off and drop it: when your

sister brings your food she will see it, and know where to find you.'

The brothers went to work, and on the path they threw down the skins

as their mother had suggested.

Near this path there lived a devi with a hundred heads. Once the devi's

mother saw the onion peelings strewed on the path; she collected

them all, and put them on the road leading to her house. Three days

passed, and the mother thought that her sons' food must be nearly

finished. She prepared some more for them, put it in a bag, gave it

to her daughter, and sent her to her brothers. The girl set out and

followed the onion peelings.

She went on and on and came to a house. In the house was seated an

old woman. The girl cried out: 'Mother, mother, canst thou tell me if

my brothers are working here?' 'What dost thou want with thy brothers

here?' said the old woman. 'This is the house of a devi with a hundred

heads; he will soon be coming home, so I had better hide thee, for

if he sees thee he will eat thee.'

The devi's mother took the maiden and hid her. The devi appeared,

no one knows whence. He carried dead game and firewood. He unbound

them from his back, went in, and said: 'Mother, I smell a man! Who

has come hither?' 'Why dost thou ask?' said the old woman; 'for fear

of thee bird cannot fly in heaven, nor can worm creep on earth.' The

devi insisted, and his mother at last gave way, and said: 'I have

here a maiden whom I wish thee to marry; if thou wilt not eat her,

I will let thee see her.' The son promised, and his mother brought

the girl out. When the devi saw her, he liked her very much, and did

not eat her.

The brothers waited and waited for their sister, and when she did

not come they rose and went home. They reproached their mother,

saying: 'Why hast thou not sent us food?' When their mother heard

them say this, she began to weep, and said: 'Near the road dwells

a hundred-headed devi, and I fear that he--may he be cursed!--has

eaten her.' The brothers did not know of this devi, and when they

heard about him they arose and went forth to deliver their sister.

When they had gone a good way, they neared the house of the devi. At

that time their sister and the devi's mother were sitting on the

roof. The devi's mother saw them coming in the distance, and said to

her daughter-in-law: 'Look there! dost thou see nothing coming?' Her

daughter-in-law replied: 'I see something like a swarm of flies.' 'Woe

to their mother and to my son's mother!' said the devi's mother,

and asked her again, in a short time, what she saw. The devi's wife

answered: 'I see three men.' 'Woe to their mother and to my son's

mother!' moaned the old woman.

The three brothers came at last to the devi's house. There they saw

water, but they could not cross it by any means. They threw in stones,

and stepped over in this way. Then the girl saw that they were her

brothers; she came down and embraced them. When the devi's mother

learnt who they were, she took them in, gave them food, and then hid

them, saying: 'If my son comes home and sees you he will eat you.'

Then the hundred-headed devi came, no one knows whence. On one shoulder

he had firewood, and on the other dead game. At the door he undid

his burden, and, when he came in, said: 'I smell a man; who has come

hither?' His mother tried to hide the truth, but her son would not

leave her alone, so at last she said: 'If thou wilt promise not to

eat thy wife's brothers, I will show them to thee.' The devi promised,

and the old woman brought in the three brothers.

A little while after, the devi said to his wife's brothers: 'Come,

let us prepare supper.' They all came and began to skin the game the

devi had brought. Whilst the three brothers skinned one stag, the devi

skinned sixty, cut them up and threw them into the pot. Then he came,

seized the stag his brothers-in-law were skinning, and threw it also

into the pot.

When they sat down to supper, the devi asked his wife's brothers:

'Are you eaters of bone or eaters of flesh?' They answered: 'What

have we to do with flesh? Bones are good enough for us.' The devi

filled his mouth, tore off the flesh, and threw the bones to the three

brothers. Then he again inquired: 'Will you drink out of a doki [11]

or out of a qantsi?' [12] 'From a qantsi,' replied the brothers. The

devi poured out a doki of wine for himself, while he filled the qantsi

for them.

When they had finished supper, and were preparing to go to bed,

the devi again inquired: 'Do you wish to sleep in a bed or in the

stable?' 'What have we to do with a bed? put us in the stable!' replied

the brothers. The devi lay down in his bed, and the brothers slept

in the stable. In the morning, when the devi awoke, he said to his

mother: 'Mother, I am hungry!' The mother saw his meaning, and not

wishing to let her daughter-in-law understand, she thus replied: 'Go,

son, to the stable; there, in the bread-box, are three badly-cooked

loaves. Take them and eat them.'

The devi went into the stable where the brothers lay. He swallowed

one of them in the doorway, put the other two in his pocket, and went

into the wood.

In the meantime the mother of the brothers waited and waited, and

when they did not come back, she thought: 'The devi must have eaten

my sons.' She wept bitterly, her tears flowed until they reached

to heaven. At that moment a man was passing by. He asked the cause

of the tears, and the woman told him that they were for the loss of

her children.

Then the man gave her an apple, and said: 'Cut this apple into a

hundred pieces, and every day eat three; when the apple is finished,

thou shalt have a son, and thou shalt call his name Asphurtzela.'

The woman did as he said. She cut the apple into a hundred pieces,

and every day ate three. When the apple was finished, she brought

forth a son, and called him by the name of Asphurtzela. Asphurtzela

grew as much in a day as other children grow in a year.

Once when Asphurtzela was playing with a group of little boys, a

woman passed by with a coca [13] full of water on her shoulder. Just

then Asphurtzela threw his codchi; [14] the codchi whirled through

the air, struck the woman's coca and broke it. The woman was angry,

and called out: 'Mayst thou be cursed! But how can I curse thee,

only son of thy mother? For this trick may thy brothers and sister

never be delivered from the claws of the devi!'

Asphurtzela did not understand this. He hastened inside, and said

to his mother: 'Give me to suck, mother!' 'What a time to ask such

a thing,' said his mother. But the boy would not wait, so his mother

gave him his wish.

Asphurtzela bit his mother's breast, and said: 'Tell me, mother, have

I any brothers?' His mother did not wish him to know, but she was in

such pain that she told him everything. When Asphurtzela heard her

tale, he prepared to go away. His mother entreated him not to leave

her, but the boy would not be persuaded, and set out.

He wandered far and near, and came to an open field, where he saw

men ploughing the ground. He shouted out to them: 'Take care, save

yourselves, a hundred-headed devi is coming!' The men were filled

with terror, and fled in all directions.

Asphurtzela slung the plough over his back, took it to a smith,

and said: 'Make me out of this iron a pair of shoes and a bow and

arrow.' The smith did so; Asphurtzela put on the iron shoes, took

the bow and arrow, and went in quest of the hundred-headed devi.

He went some distance and approached the devi's house. At that time the

devi's mother was sitting on the roof, and, seeing some one coming,

she said to her daughter-in-law: 'Dost thou see any one, or do my

eyes deceive me?' When her daughter-in-law assured her that it was

some one, the devi's mother moaned: 'Woe to his mother's breast,

and woe to my son's mother's breast!'

In the meantime Asphurtzela arrived quite near the house, leaped over

the stream, and came to the door. He saw there a young girl, and said:

'Surely thou art my sister!' The girl only knew her three brothers,

and would not admit this, but when Asphurtzela told her his tale,

she believed him.

Then the devi's mother came and said: 'Come, child, I will put thee in

safety and hide thee, lest my son eat thee when he comes home.' 'Go

in there, dog of an old woman! May God bring thee and thy son to

shame!' said Asphurtzela, and he waited impatiently for the return

of the devi.

Just then the devi appeared, with game slung over his shoulder, and

tree roots thrust under his arm. When he saw a strange boy standing

boldly in front of his house, he said to himself: 'For fear of me

bird dare not fly in heaven nor worm creep on earth. Who can this

boy be who is strutting about so carelessly?'

The devi was mad with fury when he saw him. Flames shot from his eyes;

he cast an angry glance at him, and shouted out: 'Who art thou? and

what art thou doing here?' 'Shall I tell thee who I am? I am thy

wife's brother; I am come to be thy guest, so thou must be my host,'

said Asphurtzela. 'Very well,' returned the devi, 'come in and let us

prepare supper. We must skin the game and cook it.' They began to skin

the game, but by the time the devi had skinned one beast, Asphurtzela

had finished all the game, thrown it into the pot and cooked it.

The devi gazed on Asphurtzela in unfeigned astonishment. When the food

was cooked, and they sat down to supper, the devi, according to his

custom, put the question to his guest: 'Art thou an eater of bones or

of flesh?' 'Pass me over the flesh, why should I eat bones? am I a dog

that I should do this?' answered Asphurtzela. The devi gave him flesh,

and inquired: 'Wilt thou drink out of a qantsi or out of a doki?' 'Pass

over the doki, why should I take a qantsi?' The devi gave him the doki,

and sank into deep thought. When it was time to go to bed, the devi

inquired: 'Wilt thou sleep in the stable or in a bed?' 'I am a man,

what should I do in the stable? Give me a bed,' said Asphurtzela.

So it came to pass that Asphurtzela slept in the bed, and the devi lay

down in the stable. He lay down, but, alas! he could not sleep. His

one idea was how he could rid himself of this disagreeable guest. When

he thought that Asphurtzela must be asleep, he took a huge sword and

began to sharpen it. The noise of the sharpening awoke Asphurtzela,

and he, guessing the devi's design, jumped out of bed, and put a log

of wood under the coverlet. Then he hid in the room. When the devi

had made his sword as bright as a diamond, he stole out quietly,

opened the door, and went noiselessly towards Asphurtzela's bed. He

raised his sword with all his might and main, and struck with such

force that all the dust in the bed was raised, and the log was cleft

through the middle. Then the devi went away and closed the door.

Asphurtzela shook down his bed and slept peacefully. In the morning,

when the devi awoke and saw his brother-in-law, he gazed on him in

amazement, and said: 'Didst thou feel any pain in the night?' 'Oh,

no!' said Asphurtzela. 'Not even a flea-bite?' 'No.' 'Then let us

wrestle.' 'Very well,' said Asphurtzela, and the combat began.

The devi struggled and struggled, but could not move his

brother-in-law. Then Asphurtzela attacked him, and buried him in the

ground up to the neck. He took his bow and arrow, aimed at the devi,

and cried out: 'Tell me quickly what thou hast done with my brothers,

or I shall shoot thee.' The devi was afraid, and said: 'Do not kill

me and I shall tell thee. In my breast is a little coffer, in it

they are lying dead; there too is a handkerchief, place it on them,

and they will become alive again.'

When Asphurtzela heard this, he cut open the devi's breast, took

out the coffer, brought out his brothers, placed a handkerchief

on them, and they came back to life. Then he shot his arrow at the

hundred-headed devi and killed him. When he had cut him into small

pieces, he went to the devi's mother and killed her too. Then he

learnt his brothers' story, and told them his in return.

The brothers believed Asphurtzela, but envy entered their hearts

when they found how much braver he was than they. At last they all

arose and went towards home. On the way they had to pass through an

open field, where there grew a tree, so large that all the field was

under its shade. Asphurtzela said to his brothers and sister: 'Let

us rest here, I am very tired and would close my eyes a little.' The

brothers consented.

Asphurtzela lay down at the foot of the tree and slept like the

dead. His brothers sat down near him, and began to whisper one to

another: 'Now that he has killed the hundred-headed devi, what good can

he do us? Come, let us bind him to this tree and leave him here.' They

took withs, twisted them round and round, and bound him to the tree,

so hard that blood poured from his fingers. When his sister saw this,

she entreated them to spare him, but they would not listen to her. They

bound him tight, took their sister and went home.

As soon as they were in the house, the girl told their mother

everything. The mother called down curses on her three sons.

When Asphurtzela woke and saw that he was bound to the tree, he

tried hard to get away, but could not move. He looked round, and

saw that his brothers were no longer there. He looked everywhere,

and then prayed to God: 'O God, if I have deceived my brothers,

may this tree become stronger, but if they have deceived me, may

I pull it up by the roots.' When he had said this he tried again,

and the tree came up by the roots.

Then Asphurtzela arose and went home, bearing the tree with him. He

came to the house, and called to his brothers: 'Come out at once

and loose my hands!' His brothers grew pale and faint from fear, but

they came out and set him free. After this Asphurtzela did not wish

to live with his brothers, and made ready to leave home. His sister

and mother entreated him to stay, but Asphurtzela would not yield.

He went away, and wandered on until he came to a field where a man

was ploughing; when he turned up a clod he threw it into his mouth

and swallowed it. Asphurtzela gazed and gazed, and at last said: 'Man,

why dost thou swallow these clods?' 'There is no cause for surprise in

that; Asphurtzela has killed the hundred-headed devi, what is there

remarkable in my swallowing clods?' said the clod-swallower. 'I am

Asphurtzela, so let us be as brothers,' said Asphurtzela. They went

on together.

When they had gone some distance they came to another field, where

there was a man with mill wheels tied to his feet, and in his pocket

were two hares. He let both the hares away, and then caught both

again. Asphurtzela gazed and gazed at the man, and then said: 'Man,

what art thou doing? how canst thou catch these hares?' 'Asphurtzela

killed the hundred-headed devi, what is there remarkable in catching

two hares?' said the hare-catcher. [15] 'Why, this is Asphurtzela,

and he will be as a brother to thee, if thou wilt,' said the

clod-swallower. So they all went on together.

On the way, the comrades arranged that each should shoot his arrow

in turn, and in the place where it stuck they should eat their

repast. First of all the clod-swallower shot. His arrow stuck in a

very awkward place, but they came and took their supper there.

Then the hare-catcher shot his arrow, which also stuck in an awkward

place. They came to it and ate their mid-day meal.

Last of all Asphurtzela cast his arrow, and it stuck on the shelf of

a house where dwelt three devis. At that time the devis were being

married to three fair maidens. They saw the arrow stick in their

shelf, and stopped the weddings. They tried to pull the arrow out,

they struggled and struggled, but could not move it. Then they said:

'Since we cannot pull this arrow out, let us go away, in case he who

shot it comes and takes up his abode here.' They left in the house

only one lame devi, whom they hid in the chimney.

The three friends came in, laid the cloth, and made ready their

supper. They threw up their caps for joy. Then they said: 'Come,

let each of us, in turn, remain at home and prepare the food.'

The first day the clod-swallower stayed in. He had prepared the food

and dressed it, when, behold! the lame devi came down from the chimney,

and said to the clod-swallower: 'Give me to eat and drink.' He gave

him food. 'Give me to eat and drink,' said the devi again. He gave

him food once more. When he made the same demand a third time, the

clod-swallower answered: 'If thou eatest and drinkest everything,

what shall I say to my comrades?' The devi said: 'Give me to eat and

drink, or I shall eat thee and thy provisions too.' The clod-swallower

was afraid, and ran to the door. The devi sat down and finished all

the food.

The companions came home and saw that there was no food, but what

did it matter? They managed for that day, and the next morning left

the hare-catcher at home. The same thing happened to him as to the

clod-swallower. Then it was Asphurtzela's turn.

He prepared a quantity of different kinds of food and drink for his

companions. Then the lame devi came out of the chimney, and said:

'Give me to eat and drink.' Asphurtzela did so. 'Give me to eat

and drink,' again said the devi. Asphurtzela did so. When he asked

a third time, Asphurtzela said: 'If I give thee all, what will my

comrades do?' 'If thou wilt not give me to eat, I shall eat thee and

thy food too.' Asphurtzela smiled to himself, took his bow and arrow,

shot the devi through the heart, and cut him in halves.

The devi's head rolled one way and his body another. The head

cried out: 'Happy is he who will follow me.' The body cried: 'Woe

to the man who follows me.' In the meantime Asphurtzela's companions

returned. They ate, and then said: 'Let us go and see what the devi's

head promised.'

The devi's head rolled and fell into a hole. Asphurtzela looked in

and saw three lovely maidens. He was pleased, and said: 'Let us bring

them out and marry them.' The clod-swallower slipped in, but before he

had reached the bottom he called out: 'I burn, I burn, draw me up,'

and they took him out. Then the hare-catcher slipped down, and the

same thing happened to him. Then came Asphurtzela's turn.

He said to his companions: 'When I call out "I burn, I burn," let

me down lower into the hole.' He called out many times: 'I burn,'

but his companions only lowered him farther. [16]

He went down the hole and saw the maidens, each excelled the other,

but the youngest was certainly the most beautiful of all. He took the

eldest, and called out to the clod-swallower: 'This is thine!' Then he

sent up the second sister, calling out to the hare-catcher: 'This is

thine!' Last of all he was about to send the youngest, as his wife,

but she objected, saying: 'Go thou first, then I will come, for I

fear that thy comrades will betray thee.' Asphurtzela was obstinate,

and insisted upon her going first. 'Very well,' said the maiden, 'I

will go, since thou wishest me to do so, but know this, thy companions

will not draw thee up, they will shut down the covering of the hole,

and thou wilt be left here. Three streams will flow here; one black,

one blue, and one white; do not put thy head under any except white

water, lest thou be drowned.'

It was as she had said. When all three maidens were up, the two men

put stones at the mouth of the hole, and left Asphurtzela. He was so

indignant that he at once put his head under the black spring, and

was immediately carried to the lower regions. He wandered about here

and there, and came at last to an old woman's hut. He called out:

'Mother, mother, give me some water to drink.' 'Ah, child,' said

the old woman, 'at present there is none, we shall have it again

when the dragon has carried away our princess.' 'What dragon?' said

Asphurtzela. The old woman replied: 'Our water is withheld by a dragon

(gvelashapi), and if we do not offer him a human victim to eat, the

water will not flow. We have all paid this debt save the king, and

to-day his daughter is to be offered up.' 'Fetch me a water-vessel,

mother, I must hasten this minute to the well,' said Asphurtzela.

The woman prayed him not to go, but he would not hear her. The old

woman arose, and brought him vessels. Asphurtzela broke up these

small water-jars, and said: 'Hast thou no kvevris? [17] bring them

to me.' The old woman showed him where the kvevris were. Asphurtzela

took them and went away.

When he came to the edge of the stream, he saw a richly dressed maiden

seated, shedding bitter tears. He asked her the cause, and when he

learnt that this was the king's daughter, he said: 'I will sleep here;

when the dragon comes, wake me up.' He laid his head on the maiden's

lap, and fell asleep.

The dragon soon appeared. The maiden was afraid to wake Asphurtzela,

and she wept more than ever. One of her tears fell on Asphurtzela's

cheek, and he woke. When he saw the dragon he rose up, shot an arrow,

and cut it in pieces. [18] The maiden, overjoyed, immediately hastened

home to her father, and said: 'Thus and thus has it come to pass, the

dragon is dead.' The king at first would not believe this, but when

others put faith in the story, he sent to seek the youth. He wished

him to marry the princess, and decided to give him half of the kingdom.

They sought, and sought, but could not find him. Then the old woman

came to the palace and said: 'Mighty sovereign! have mercy upon

me and upon my son.' The king knew that she had no son, and said:

'Thou hadst formerly no son, where hast thou found this one?' 'God

has given me for my son a youth who has killed our enemy the dragon,'

answered the old woman.

The king was rejoiced that the youth was found. He sent his ministers

to bring him to the palace. When Asphurtzela came, the king offered

him great presents, but he would not take them, and said: 'If thou

wilt send me back to my own land of light, I shall be happy, this

is all I desire.' The king was very melancholy, he entreated him,

but it was of no avail, so he promised.

After this, Asphurtzela went again to his adopted mother. On the way

he saw a great tree, and on the top there was a griffin's (phascundzi)

nest. There flew down from on high a dragon, and the little birds set

up a terrified scream. When Asphurtzela saw what was about to happen,

he drew his bow, and, in the twinkling of an eye, the dragon was dead.

The mother griffin flew down, and her fledglings told her what had

happened. Then the grateful griffin came to Asphurtzela and said:

'Tell me what thou wishest, that I may do thee a service.' Asphurtzela

said: 'I wish for nought, save to be taken again into the land of

light.' 'It will be difficult for me, but why should I not do this

for thy sake?' said the griffin, and directed him to get food and

prepare for the journey. Asphurtzela returned to the king, and asked

him for provisions.

When everything was ready, the griffin put Asphurtzela on her back and

flew off. On the way, when the griffin cried out, Asphurtzela put food

in her mouth. Just as they were about to enter the world of light,

the griffin again cried aloud. Asphurtzela had no more food left,

but he cut off the calf of his leg, and threw it into the griffin's

mouth. This morsel was so very tasty that the griffin did not eat it,

but kept it on the tip of her tongue.

When they had arrived, the griffin said: 'Now farewell! leap down and

go away.' Asphurtzela descended and went away, but he walked like

one who is lame. The griffin said: 'What aileth thee that thou art

lame?' He told her. Then the griffin took the piece of flesh she had

kept on her tongue, put it in its place, made it whole, and went away.

Asphurtzela went to seek his comrades. He went on and on until he came

to a certain place. There he saw his two companions about to marry the

beautiful maidens. He took aim with his bow and arrow, and called out:

'Were the men or the women to blame?' The youngest sister replied:

'How could it be the women's fault? It was the men's.' Asphurtzela shot

his arrow and killed his two companions. Then he took the beautiful

maidens with him, married the youngest, and gave the two elder to

his brothers. [19]

XIII

THE SHEPHERD AND THE CHILD OF FORTUNE

There was and there was not at all, there was a man who had a

wife. They possessed great wealth, but had no child. Once the

woman said to her husband: 'Come, let us place young bullocks in

our churches, and at night let some one watch, perhaps God will look

down upon us and give us a child.' The husband approved of this idea,

and placed bullocks in five churches.

Then they went into one of the churches, killed a bullock, gave it to

their shepherd, and said: 'Go, take this bullock's flesh and give it

to the poor; do thou remain in the church all night and watch. Listen

very carefully.' The shepherd went away and gave the bullock's flesh

to the poor; then he went into the church, and remained the whole

night watching, but he heard not a word relating to his master's

childlessness.

Day dawned, and the shepherd went and told his master: 'I have watched

the whole night, and have not heard a sound.' Then this man went into

the second chapel. He killed the bullock there, and gave it to his

shepherd, who distributed it even as he had the first. In the morning,

when he went home, he brought the same answer as before. Then they

went to the third and fourth chapels, but still they learnt nothing.

Only the fifth chapel remained. Here also the shepherd distributed

bullock's flesh to the poor, and hid himself in the church. In the

middle of the night, behold there flew down the five angels of the

churches, and began to talk together. They said: 'We must do something

for this man. He is childless; let us give him a son.' 'Yes,' said

the first angel, 'but when he reaches the age of twenty let him die

and return to us.' 'No,' said the second angel, 'when the priest

shall lead him into the cathedral and place a crown on his head,

then he shall die.' 'When he has a wife and children, then he shall

die,' said the third. 'He shall live a long time, he shall grow old,

but shall be a worthless fellow,' said the fourth. 'If we are to

give the man a child, let us give him something better,' said the

fifth angel. 'We have spoken, now it is thy turn; what dost thou

say?' answered the others. 'Then,' said the fifth angel, 'let him be

endowed with immortal youth, and whatever he asks of God may it come

to pass.' 'Good, good!' assented the others, and they went away each

to his own place.

The shepherd heard all this. At daybreak he came back to his master,

who inquired of him: 'Well, didst thou hear nothing last night?' The

shepherd replied: 'The five angels of the churches assembled, and they

said that thou shouldst have a son at the end of a year, but it is

ordained that thy shepherd shall be present at the birth.' 'Thank the

Lord! If we have a son thou mayst be present,' answered the husband

and wife.

After this the shepherd went to his sheep, and the man and woman

went in. A year passed; the shepherd delayed some time, put in his

pocket a little goat, and went away. The woman was in bed, and the

shepherd put her child in his pocket, and wrapped the young goat up

in the bedclothes. Then the shepherd opened the bedroom door and went

away. When he had gone for one or two weeks the child would not stay

in his pocket any longer, and asked to be put down. The shepherd put

him down, and he walked by himself.

They went on and on, and at last they became hungry. The shepherd said

to himself: 'Come, I will try if the prophecy of the angels be true

or not,' and he said to the boy: 'Wish that God will give us bread,

that we may eat.' The boy wished, and God gave them bread. They

sat down and ate, but they had no water. He wished for water, and,

by their side, there murmured a beautiful spring.

The shepherd now believed in his heart that all his desires would

be fulfilled, and said: 'Wish that in this plain a house completely

furnished may arise, and that outside there may be a village over

which I may rule, and that I may have such and such a princess for my

wife.' The boy wished this, and everything was according to his desire.

Some time passed. Once the princess asked the shepherd, saying: 'How

has it happened that an illustrious princess like me has married a

simple shepherd?' Her husband replied: 'Heat the spit and put it on

the sole of the boy's foot to see if he is asleep. If he is, then I

will tell thee all.' The child heard this conversation, and wished

in his heart: 'O God! may my foot be hardened, so that I cannot feel

anything.' The woman heated the spit, put it on the sole of the boy's

foot, but he did not move. The shepherd thought that he was really

asleep, and told his wife everything in detail. The child lay quiet

and listened. He now learnt for the first time whose son he was,

and how he had fallen into the hands of the shepherd.

Next morning at daybreak he arose and went to seek his parents. He

went on and on, and everywhere asked news of his village. He came to

his father's house, and said: 'Do you want a guest?' 'Truly, child,

a guest is of God!' And they led him in. Then the boy asked them:

'Have you lost anything?' The master of the house replied: 'Well,

child, I have lost a shepherd, and I still owe him four years'

wages.' 'I saw him just now coming to you with great wealth, and with

a wife and family,' said the boy.

At night, when all were asleep, the boy wished in his heart: 'O

God! may the shepherd, with his house, his family, and his town,

be in our courtyard to-night.'

The next morning the master of the house came to the door, and was

struck with surprise. 'My God!' said he, 'how was this town built

in our courtyard?' His wife said: 'What art thou talking about,

husband? This our courtyard, indeed! We are somewhere else.' The man

replied: 'No, wife, this is our own home; that is our house, but these

are certainly not the usual surroundings.' 'Well, let me look inside;

if there is a boy sleeping there it must be our house.' The boy was

awake, but pretended to be asleep.

The man and woman went in and saw the boy sleeping there. They awoke

him and said: 'Who art thou who hast appeared here? We pray thee to

tell us what thou hast done that we no longer know our own house.' The

boy smiled and said: 'I told you yesterday that your shepherd was

coming to you with his possessions. Behold! he came yesterday,

and has taken up his abode in your courtyard. Let us call this your

shepherd here.'

At that moment the shepherd awoke. When he jumped out of bed and

saw the courtyard, he said to himself: 'Great art thou, O Lord! I

was settled in my home, and now I am here!' He went in to his master,

bent his knee, and said: 'Thus and thus have I done; I have done evil,

and now I am in thy hands, do to me as thou wilt.' When the man and

woman heard this tale they did not know what to do to show their

joy. First one embraced the child, then the other. At length the boy

said: 'I am in truth your son, but this man is also your child. He

has done wrong, but you will forgive all, and give him his hire.' His

father gave the shepherd his hire, and forgave him.

But still the boy was not satisfied. He said to his parents: 'This

shepherd, at least, left a goat in exchange for me; if my mother

brought up the goat, he brought me up. If you wish, keep the goat and I

will go with him; if, however, you keep me, you ought to give him back

his goat.' 'Not only will I do that, but I will also give him half of

my flocks,' said the boy's father. He divided his flocks into two parts

and gave one to his shepherd, and took him into his house. The boy

remained with his father and mother, and they lived happily together.

XIV

THE TWO THIEVES

There was once a thief called the Big Thief. Now this Big Thief

went into a town to steal. When he had gone some little distance

he met an unknown man. 'God give thee victory! [20] Mayst thou be

victorious!'1 said they one to another. 'Who art thou, and what is

thy trade?' inquired the Big Thief. 'My trade is thieving, and my

name is Little Thief,' said the unknown. 'I, too, am a thief, so let

us join partnership.' He agreed, and they became partners.

And they went on together to steal. On the way, the Big Thief said to

the Little Thief: 'Now give me a proof of thy skill in thieving.' But

the latter said: 'Thou art the Big Thief, thou must show me thy skill;

what can I do compared with thee?' The Big Thief consented.

They saw, just at that moment, a pigeon sitting on a plane tree. The

Big Thief said: 'Now you shall see me pull out the tail of that

pigeon on the plane tree without its knowledge.' Having said this,

he went up the tree.

When he had gone about half way, the Little Thief silently stole under

the plane tree, climbed up, and while the Big Thief pulled out the

tail of the pigeon, the Little Thief took off his companion's drawers,

and promptly descended the tree.

When the Big Thief came down and proudly showed the pigeon's tail,

the Little Thief thrust his hand into his pocket and showed him the

drawers. When the Big Thief saw this, he was struck with amazement,

and said: 'Although I am famous I do not think thou art at all inferior

to me.' They had tried each other's skill, and went on.

On the way, the Little Thief enquired of the Big Thief: 'What shall

we steal to-night?' 'Let us go to-night and break into the king's

treasury,' said the Big Thief. 'Very well,' agreed his comrade,

and they set out for the town.

At nightfall, when the tread of people's feet had ceased, the thieves

took two bags, and went to break into the king's treasury. The Little

Thief said: 'Climb thou into the treasury, gather up the money, I shall

fill the bags, then we can take them up, and make off.' The Big Thief

would not consent. 'No,' said he; 'thou art the smaller, go inside,

and I shall stay here.' He insisted until he gained his point.

At last the Little Thief got in, and collected the money. The Big

Thief stayed outside and filled the bags. When the two bags were full,

he made a sign, the Little Thief came out of the treasury, they took

the bags and went home.

Next morning the king went into his treasury. He looked in and saw

what had happened. Then he called his council together, and made

his complaint. They planned and planned, and at last thought of

the following scheme. They took a big barrel, filled it with pitch,

and placed it at the entrance to the treasury.

The thieves knew nothing of this. When night came again, they

returned to steal. The Little Thief said: 'Yesterday I went into the

treasury, to-day it is thy turn, I will watch for thee.' The Big Thief

consented. He went into the treasury, and suddenly was caught fast. The

Little Thief pulled hard, but his companion could not get away; nothing

but his head was visible; he was up to the neck in pitch. When day

dawned, the Little Thief saw that nothing could be done, so he took

his dagger and cut off his comrade's head. Then he hid it in a place

where no human being could possibly find a trace of it.

He went home and told his late companion's wife. He warned her to be

very careful, and not to go out, for if it was discovered that they

were interested in the dead man, they would most certainly be seized

and killed.

When day dawned, they told the king: 'A thief is caught in the trap,

but he has no head.' The king went himself, and saw that in truth

the thief had no head, and he was amazed. How could a headless man

thieve? Then he commanded them, saying: 'Take his body and put it in

the market place, with sentinels to guard it. Whoever passes by and

weeps at the sight of it will be guilty, because it will be a sign

of pity for the thief; bring such persons to me immediately.'

When the Little Thief heard this, he went home, and instructed

his companion's wife how to act. 'Take good care not to go out,

lest they discover thee'; and he told her what orders the king had

given. The Big Thief's wife could not bear this, and entreated him

to let her go, saying: 'I will stand far away and weep quietly, no

one will recognise me.' 'Very well, but be careful. Take a water jug

with thee as if to carry water, and when near thy husband's body,

strike thy foot against a stone, break the jar, and then sit down

and weep as if thou art mourning for the broken pitcher.'

The woman did exactly as she was told. She took the jar on her shoulder

and went for water. When she came near the place where her husband's

body was lying, she struck her foot on a stone, let the jar fall,

and it broke. Then she sat down by the fragments and began to weep

bitterly, apparently for the pitcher, but really for her husband. When

she had wailed enough she rose and went away. The sentinels were

amazed: 'What a miserable woman to cry thus for a broken pitcher!'

Night came on. The sentinels returned to the palace with the body of

the thief, and said to the king: 'We saw no one who wept except one

woman, who struck her foot against a stone and broke her water jar,

and for this she cried bitterly.' The king was very angry, for he

saw the trick the woman had played. He was enraged because they had

not seized her and brought her to him, but had let her escape. Then

the king ordered the sentinels' heads to be cut off.

As this ruse had not succeeded, the king thought of another. He sent

the thief's corpse outside the town, and left it there. Perhaps the

right person will see it and come to steal it. Sentinels were posted,

and told that if any one came to steal the corpse they should seize

him and bring him.

On hearing this news the Little Thief drove an ass before him into a

neighbouring village. There he had some cakes baked and turkeys and

fowls roasted, put them in the saddle bag, and hung it on the ass. Then

he bought some of the best wine and went on his way. He came to the

place where the sentinels were posted, and cried out: 'Do you not

want a guest? I have come from afar, and must stay here to-night;

I fear some one may steal the ass. Let us have a good supper.' The

mention of supper delighted the sentinels. They sat down and began

to eat. The Little Thief poured them out wine. The sentinels drank,

but the thief did not drink a drop.

When they had eaten well, he said to them: 'I am going to sleep. As I

am sleepy, you may watch the ass and see that no one steals him, lest

if he be lost I accuse you to the king.' 'Lie down and make thyself

easy. This ass of thine is not so attractive that thou needst fear

for him,' said the sentinels. The Little Thief lay down and pretended

to go to sleep, but he kept a sharp look out. A short time afterwards

the sentinels lay in a deep sleep, they slept as if they were dead.

Then the Little Thief arose and lifted the body of his late companion

on his back. He brought forward his ass, put the corpse on it,

and turned its head towards home. He himself lay down again and

fell asleep.

The ass was accustomed to find his way home, he lowered his head as

if meditating, went straight home and knocked against the door. The

Big Thief's wife came and took down the dead body, put it on a couch

and wept. When her heart was solaced by tears, she buried him in the

earth under the couch.

When morning came, the sentries awoke and roused their false host. The

Little Thief looked round and called his ass. He saw that it was not

there, and set up a fearful howl: 'I will go and accuse you to the

king.' The sentinels were terrified, and completely lost their heads

when they saw that the corpse was gone. They drew money from their

pockets, and offered it to silence their noisy host. This was what

he wanted; he had not only stolen the body but gained some money.

The sentinels went to the king. When he heard their tale he was

extremely irritated, and ordered their heads to be cut off.

This new plan having failed, he thought of another. A street was

strewed with money; sentinels were placed here and there, and ordered

to seize any passer-by who gathered up the money, for he would be

the thief's master and companion.

The Little Thief heard this news with joy. He got a pair of boots

tarred, and went out with them under his arm.

When he came to the street that was strewed with money he sat down,

took off his boots, and put on the newly-tarred boots. Then he walked

along the street boldly, singing a song. When he had got to the end of

the street, he took off the money that had stuck to his tarred boots,

made a hole in the earth and poured it in. Then he walked back to

the other end of the street, cleaned his boots again and buried the

money. He did this the whole day, and by the evening he had picked

up almost half of the money.

The sentinels gathered up what was left, went to the king, and said:

'No one has taken the money, but a man was walking in the street from

morning till night.' The king was enraged that they had not taken

this man, and ordered the sentinels to be beheaded.

Then he assembled his counsellors and asked their advice. Now the king

had a hind, if they were to let this animal loose it would fall on

its knees before the house of him who was guilty against the king. And

the viziers said: 'Let the hind go, and it will fall on its knees in

front of the house of the thief.'

The king took this advice, and they let the hind loose.

It raced along the streets, and fell on its knees just in front of

the Little Thief's house.

In the morning, when the Little Thief awoke, he looked out of his

window, and saw the king's hind kneeling in front of his house. He

had heard of this hind before, so, when he saw it, he knew what it

meant. He went outside, seized hold of the hind and drew it in; he

killed it and skinned it, then he hid the skin carefully, and kept

the flesh in the house.

The king was mad with rage when they sought his hind and could not

find it. He assembled his viziers, and told the story of the lost

hind. The viziers' resources were at an end now, they could think of

no other trap for the thief.

But there appeared, from no one knows where, an old woman. She

approached the king and said: 'What wilt thou give me if I find the

lost hind?' 'Whatever thou askest me,' said the king. 'Then give me

my freedom.' 'I shall not only give thee thy freedom, but shall raise

thee to the rank of princess,' replied the king. The old woman rose

and went forth to seek the hind.

She wandered till at last she came to the Little Thief's house. The

Little Thief was not at home, and she saw the Big Thief's wife. She

said: 'Daughter, if thou hast a piece of hind's flesh do not grudge

it to me, it will cure a sick one of his illness.' The thief's wife

did not know of the cunning of the old woman, went into her house,

and brought out a piece of hind's flesh. The old woman was joyful,

and did not wait. She rose and went away.

When she had gone a little way, she met the Little Thief, who said:

'What is that, old dame?' 'A piece of hind's flesh, as a remedy for my

trouble! The woman in that house gave it to me,' said the beldam. The

Little Thief understood her; he saw through her cunning, and said:

'What is the use of this morsel of flesh? Come with me and I can give

thee a whole dishful. Thou canst eat and give to thy friends; it will

be of service to thee.' The old woman's head swam with pleasure. She

turned back and went with the Little Thief. Whenever the deceitful

old woman was enticed into the house, he drew out his dagger and cut

off her head. Then he took her body, and buried it also under the

couch. The king waited for news, but the old woman never came.

Some time passed by, but still the old woman did not come, and the

king was enraged. He assembled his counsellors, and said: 'What is

the use of all this? Is there no way of trapping this thief?' The

viziers said: 'This fellow is so brave, and such a clever thief,

that we cannot entrap him.'

Then the king rose up and said: 'Let the thief come to me. I shall

not harm him, but shall give him my daughter to wife. He is so clever

that I cannot take him by trickery.'

When the Little Thief heard this he came to the king and said: 'I am

that thief, and I am come to do your majesty's will.' The king could

not break his word, so he gave him his daughter in marriage.

A neighbouring monarch heard this story. Every day he wrote irritating

letters to the thief's father-in-law, the king, saying: 'Are you

not ashamed to have anything to do with a low thief, to marry him

to your daughter, and call him son-in-law?...' The king was very

much annoyed at these scornful reproaches, and at last fell ill,

being able to bear them no longer.

Then the king's son-in-law came to him and said: 'What is the

matter? Why art thou ill?' His father-in-law told him everything,

and he replied: 'Why distress thyself? Give me a few days' leave,

and I shall show thee a sight. Only on such and such a day prepare

a grand festival, and I shall be here.' He fixed a date, and went away.

He travelled on until he came to the kingdom of the mocking monarch,

and he went into a house and rested. The next day he saw a tailor

and said: 'I want a robe cut out of pieces of skin; it must be all of

different colours, and I want little bells put in it.' When the tailor

had finished the garment, the thief gave him money and sent him away.

Then he clad himself in the robe, took a glittering, naked sword in

his hand, and went to the palace. The porters did not want to let

him in, but the thief said: 'I am Michael Gabriel, sent from God! I

am commanded to take the souls of your king and queen to Paradise,

and if you trouble me I shall take your souls too, and shall send

them into hell.' He moved towards one of them, and the bells began

to ring. The porters' hearts were fearful, and they hid themselves.

The thief went in to the king. When he saw the man he became

pale. Michael Gabriel said: 'I give you a term of three days. In these

three days put all your affairs in order; appoint your successor. Strip

off everything, put yourselves in coffins, and set the keys on the

top. In three days I shall come again, lock the coffins, and take

them away with me.' When he had said this he went away, returned to

the house, took off the robe of skins, and waited three days.

On the third day he clothed himself as before, and went again to the

palace. The king and queen had stripped off everything, and were in

the coffins waiting. He called out: 'When you get to Paradise you

will hear a noise, then the coffins will open, and your eyes will

view a glorious scene.' He took the keys, locked both the coffins,

took them on his back, and carried them out.

He put them on his ass, went behind it, and called gently, 'Gee-up!' On

the appointed day he came to the court of his father-in-law, who had

invited the whole of his kingdom and many neighbouring princes to a

great feast. The thief came, and, as he lifted the coffins off the ass,

beautiful music was heard.

The thief opened the coffins, and the king and queen jumped out naked

and began to dance. The people saw their stupidity, and were ready to

die with laughing. Then the king came, clothed them in royal robes,

and said: 'Now you can go back to your own country, and rule your

kingdom, but do not mock me any more.' After this the king loved his

son-in-law very much, and, when he died, left him the kingdom.

XV

THE FOX AND THE KING'S SON

There was once a king who had a son. Every one treated him badly, and

chased him away. Even passers-by looked upon him with disfavour. The

prince thought and thought, and at last he mounted his horse, took

his bow and arrow, and departed from his father's palace.

When he had gone some distance he came into a sheltered wood. He

wandered about until he found a suitable nook. He built for himself

a mud hut, and dwelt there.

Every day the prince went out to hunt. He would shoot a stag or a

roebuck, and bring it home. After he had eaten as much as he wanted,

there was always enough meat left for the next day, but he never ate

it the next day, as he went hunting again, and there was thus always

a quantity of food left over.

A fox perceived this, and every day, when the prince had gone out to

the chase, he stole into the hut and ate all the food that was left;

then he stole away again. Some time passed thus. Then the fox said:

'There is no bravery in this! I carry away all his meat secretly,

yet there is plenty. I will show myself to him.'

Once when the prince was hunting, the fox stole in, and, when his

hunger was satisfied, he went about arranging everything. When the

prince came home, the fox leaped out in front of him. The prince drew

his bow, and was just about to shoot him, when the fox cried out:

'Do not kill me, and I will help to make thy fortune!' The prince did

not kill him, and the fox attended to the horse, and led it about,

until the sweat dried off its coat. They lived thus for some time. The

fox lighted the fire, tidied the hut, and did all the work.

But, in spite of this, there was still meat left. 'I will go and find

some one who will help to eat it,' said the fox. He went out, and saw

a wolf hardly able to walk from want of food. It could scarcely move

from the spot where it was. The fox said: 'Come home with me, and thou

shalt have plenty of everything.' The wolf followed him. They both went

into the hut, where the fox told his companion: 'I will tidy the house,

thou must stay here, and when the master comes in attend to his horse.'

The master came, and on the saddle of his horse was slung a stag. The

wolf sprang out to attend to the horse; the youth drew his bow, and

was about to shoot the wolf, when the fox cried out: 'Do not kill him,

he is a friend!' The prince did not kill him, but jumped down from his

horse, took the stag, and went in. The wolf attended to the horse,

and led him up and down, while the fox himself saw to the inside of

the house; thus they lived for some time.

The fox noticed that there was much meat left even now. He ran out

and brought in a famished bear. The wolf was sent for grass, the bear

commanded to tend the horse, while the fox arranged the house. In a

little time the prince came in, and when the bear jumped out to look

after his horse he drew his bow to shoot him, but the fox cried out:

'Do not kill him, he is a friend!' The youth did not kill the bear,

and he tended the horse and led it about; then the wolf came in with

the grass, and gave it to the horse.

Some time passed. The fox saw that even yet there was meat to spare. He

went out and sought until he found an eagle, which he brought home. He

commanded the eagle to attend to the horse, sent the bear for grass,

and the wolf for wood to burn, while he saw to household affairs. Thus

each had his business to do. When the master returned, the eagle flew

out to tend the horse. The prince was about to shoot him, when the fox

cried out: 'Do not kill him, he is a friend!' The prince did not kill

him, but thought to himself: 'What will this vile fox bring in next? I

shall see all the game in the country here.' They lived thus some time.

Once the fox said to his master: 'Give us leave to go away for two

weeks; at the end of that time we shall return to thee.' The master

gave them leave, and thought to himself: 'I do not mind if I never see

you again, for I am afraid of you all.' The fox, the wolf, the bear,

and the eagle went away. They saw a glade in the wood, and rested

there. The fox said to his companions: 'Now, let us build a good house

for our master.' They all agreed, and set to work. The wolf cut down

trees, the bear cut the wood into shape, and did the joiner work,

the eagle carried it, and the fox gave orders. When the wood was

ready, they set to and built the house. They built so beautiful a

house that the prince could not have imagined one like it, even in

his dreams. Everything was finished, but there was no furniture in it.

The fox arose and took his companions into a neighbouring town. They

went into the bazaar, and looked at the house-furniture. Each one had

his work to do again. The fox chose the goods, the wolf was ordered

to break the shutters, the bear to carry the things to the door, and

the eagle to take everything to the palace. They seized everything

necessary for furnishing a house--domestic utensils, carpets, and

vessels. They carried them to the palace, and placed them there;

so now all was finished, and there was nothing more left to wish for.

Two weeks had expired, so the four went home. The prince was hunting,

but they went to meet him. They surrounded him, and would not let him

pass. The fox cried out: 'I command thee to come with us whither we

lead thee.' The prince was afraid, he did not know what it could mean,

but went with them. In a little while they arrived in the glade. It

was girt by a wall over which no bird could fly. They opened the

gates and went inside. When the king's son saw, he was stupefied

with surprise. Inside the wall was laid out a beautiful garden, with

fountains playing, and there stood a magnificent palace. Then they

said: 'We have made all this ready in two weeks, now live happily in

it.' The prince rejoiced greatly, and gave hearty thanks to his fox.

Some time passed after this. The fox said: 'I must see if I can find

a good wife for my master.' He came to the prince, and again asked a

fortnight's absence. Then he went away and made a sledge. He harnessed

the wolf and bear to it, and said to the eagle: 'Fly up high, and keep

a watch; when thou seest a beautiful princess, seize her in thy claws

and carry her off.' He himself sat down and acted as coachman. Thus

they travelled from place to place.

In the villages, the fox played the trumpet, and the bear and the

wolf leaped and danced along. Crowds of people came out to look. When

they came to the capital, a maiden, fair as the sun, looked from her

window, the eagle seized her in his claws, and flew off. The bear and

the wolf turned round and started for home. When the people saw this,

they all set off in pursuit. The fox was behind his companions, and

the dogs came nearer, and almost touched his cloak, but in some way

or other they all escaped, and brought the fair one to their master.

The king's son could scarcely stand on his feet for joy. The princess's

father was in the greatest consternation, and said: 'To him who finds

and brings back my daughter will I give the half of my kingdom.' But

none was able to find trace of her. At last an old woman appeared,

and said to the king: 'I will find thy daughter.' She arose and went

forth. At last she came to the prince's house, and asked: 'Do ye not

want an attendant? I will come for small wages.' The fox, wolf, bear,

and even the beautiful princess herself, said: 'We do not want thee,

we shall not take thee.' But the prince did not agree with them,

and engaged her as servant.

The old woman served them faithfully for a long time, and did not

harm them. Then one day, when the prince was asleep, the old woman

wanted the princess to go out into the garden with her. She did not

wish to go, but the old woman pressed her until she consented. When

they came to the fountains, the old woman offered her some water. The

princess refused it, but the old woman insisted. She placed a litra

(large jar) full of water to her lips, and it suddenly swallowed

up the princess. Then the old woman put it to her own mouth, and

it swallowed her. The litra rolled away. The fox saw and pursued,

but that which he sought was soon lost to sight.

The fox reproached his master, but it was no use saying anything

now. He asked again for a fortnight's leave, made another sledge like

the former, and harnessed the bear and wolf to it. He sat up on the

seat, and held tambourines in his paws. He struck them, and the wolf

and bear pranced and danced along. The eagle flew up high, and looked

round. All the people in the land came out to gaze at the sight. The

king was angry with his beautiful daughter, and said, 'Do not go

out! Do not even look out.' The eagle watched for a long time, but

could not see her. At last he caught a glimpse of the princess through

a little window; he struck against it, broke it, seized the princess,

and flew away. He rejoined his companions, and all hastened off.

They brought the princess to their master. The king collected all his

army, and sent the old woman with it to the prince's palace. The fox

saw them appearing in the distance like a swarm of flies. He ordered

the eagle to carry stones up high in the air. When the army approached,

the eagle let the stones fall on the men; the fox, the bear, and the

wolf attacked them, and completely exterminated them. There escaped

only one single man; they fell upon him too, gnawed one of his feet,

and said: 'Go and tell thy king what has befallen his hosts.'

When the king saw his man, and heard the sad end of his army, he

was out of his mind with grief. He assembled all the chief priests

in his kingdom, went in front of them, and they all came on bended

knees. When they were near, the fox saw them, and told his master. The

prince ran out to meet them, raised them all on their feet, and took

them into his house. The father and son-in-law became reconciled,

and lived happily together. Then the fox said to his master: 'I am

getting old now, and the day of my death will soon be here, promise

to bury me in a fowl-house.' The prince promised. The fox said to

himself: 'Come, I will see if my master means to keep his promise,'

and he stretched himself out as if he were dead. When the prince saw

the corpse, he ordered it to be taken away and thrown into the earth.

The fox was enraged, jumped up and cried out: 'Is this the way thou

rememberest my goodness to thee? Well, since thou hast done thus,

when I die you will all be cursed, and there will not remain a trace

of you.' Some time after this the fox died. After his death, his

word came to pass, and they were all destroyed. The wolf, the bear,

and the eagle remained masters of the field. [21]

XVI

THE KING AND THE APPLE [22]

There was and there was not at all (of God's best may it be!), there

was a king. When the day of his death was drawing nigh, he called his

son to him, and said: 'In the day when thou goest to hunt in the east,

take this coffer, but only open it when thou art in dire distress.'

The king died, and was buried in the manner he had wished. The prince

fell into a state of grief, and would not go outside the door. At

last the ministers of state came to the new king, and proposed to him

that he should go out hunting. The king was delighted with the idea,

and set out for the chase with his suite.

They went eastwards, and killed a great quantity of game. On their

way home, the young monarch saw a tower near the road, and wished

to know what was in it. He asked one of his viziers to go and try to

find out about it. He obeyed, but first said:

'I hope to return in three days, and if I do not I shall be dead.'

Three days passed, and the vizier did not return. The king sent a

second, a third, a fourth, but not one of them came back. Then he

rose and went himself. When he arrived, he saw written over the door:

'Enter and thou wilt repent; enter not and thou wilt repent.'

'I must do one or the other,' said the king to himself, 'so I shall

go in.'

He opened the door and went in. Behold! there stood twelve men with

drawn swords. They took his hand and led him into twelve rooms. When

he was come into the twelfth, he saw a golden couch, on which was

stretched a boy of eight or nine years of age. His eyes were closed,

and he did not utter a word. The king was told:

'Thou mayst ask him three questions, but if he does not understand

and answer all of them, thou must lose thy head.'

The king became very sad, but at last remembered the coffer his

father had given him. 'What greater misfortune can I have than to lose

my head?' said he to himself. He took out the coffer and opened it;

from it there fell out an apple, which rolled towards the couch. 'What

help can this be to me?' said the king.

But the apple began to speak, and told the following tale to the

boy:--'A certain man was travelling with his wife and brother, when

night fell, and they had no food. The woman's brother-in-law went

into a neighbouring village to buy bread; on the way he met brigands,

who robbed him and cut off his head. When his brother did not return,

the man went to look for him; he met the same fate. The next day the

unhappy woman went to seek them, and there she saw her husband and

brother-in-law lying in one place with their heads cut off; around was

a pool of blood. The woman sat down, tore her hair, and began to weep

bitterly. At that moment there jumped out a little mouse. It began

to lick the blood, but the woman took a stone, threw it at the mouse,

and killed it. Then the mouse's mother came out and said: "Look at me,

I can bring my child back to life, but what canst thou do for thy

husband and his brother?" She pulled up an herb, applied it to the

little mouse, and it was restored to life. Then they both disappeared

in their hole. The woman rejoiced greatly when she saw this; she also

plucked of the same herb, put the heads on the bodies, and applied

it to them. Her husband and brother-in-law both came back to life,

but alas! she had put the wrong heads on the bodies. Now, my sage

youth! tell me, which was the woman's husband?' concluded the apple.

He opened his eyes, and said: 'Certainly it was he who had the

right head.'

The king was very glad.

'A joiner, a tailor, and a priest were travelling together at one

time,' began the apple. 'Night came on when they were in a wood; they

lighted a huge fire, had their supper, and then said: "Do not let

us be deprived of employment, each of us shall in turn watch, and do

something in his trade." The joiner's turn came first. He cut down a

tree, and out of it he fashioned a man. Then he lay down, and went to

sleep, while the tailor mounted guard. When he saw the wooden man, he

took off his clothes and put them on it. Last of all, the priest acted

as sentinel. When he saw the man he said: "I will pray to God that

He may give this man a soul." He prayed, and his wish was granted.'

'Now, my boy, canst thou tell me who made the man?'

'He who gave him the soul.'

The king was pleased, and said to himself: 'That is two.' The apple

again went on: 'There were a diviner, a physician, and a swift

runner. The diviner said: "There is a certain prince who is ill

with such and such a disease." The physician said: "I know a cure

for it." "I will run with it," said the swift runner. The physician

prepared the medicine, and the man ran with it. Now tell me who cured

the king's son?' said the apple.

'He who made the medicine,' replied the boy. When he had given the

three answers, the apple rolled back into the casket, and the king put

it in his pocket. The boy arose, embraced the king, and kissed him:

'Many men have been here, but I have not been able to speak before:

now tell me what thou wishest, and I will do it.' The king asked that

his viziers might be restored to life, and they all went away with

rich presents.