PART II

MINGRELIAN TALES [23]

I

THE THREE PRECEPTS

There was, there was, there was, there was, and nothing there

was. [24] In a certain country, a certain realm, a certain region,

a certain village, there was an orphan so poor, so poor, that 'tween

heaven and earth nought could be found that was his. Being in such

a plight to-day, to-morrow, the day after to-morrow, this week,

next week, this month, next month, sad and thoughtful he became;

he thought, he thought, he thought, and at last made up his mind:

'I will arise and try my luck,' quoth he. He rose betimes in the

morning, called on the name of God, turned himself to the right hand,

[25] and set forth from the house.

He went, he went, he went, beyond the sky, across the earth, across

the forest, across the field, across the plain, over the mountains,

he went as far as he could, and when he looked he saw a man of graceful

mien coming towards him. The youth quickened his step and they met. 'I

wish thee victory, good youth!' [26] said the stranger, 'whither goest

thou?' 'May God send thee victory, my master,' answered the young man,

'I go to seek a livelihood.' 'Be my servant for three years, and I

shall teach thee three things that will afterwards be helpful,' said

this clever man to the youth. The youth agreed, and went away with him.

At the end of a year's service, the clever man said to the youth:

'Whatever thou seest outside thy yard, throw it into the yard.' When

the second year had passed, he again spoke to the youth, and said:

'Lend nothing to anybody unless thou art much pressed to do so.' The

third year came to an end, and it was time for the young man to

depart; the clever man called him and said: 'Tell not thy secret

to a woman.' Then he bade him farewell, blessed him, and sent him

home. The youth set out: he went, he went, he went by day, he went

by night, over land, over water, and when he reached home he began

to establish himself, he made a fence round his yard and, as he had

been instructed, threw into the yard all he found outside the yard.

One morning he went out and found on the road a red snake; he

remembered the instruction of the clever man and threw the snake

into the yard. A week later, the young man noticed that on the place

where he had thrown the snake, it had laid a multitude of precious

stones. [27] It is no wonder that the youth was greatly pleased at

this. He gathered up the snake and the precious stones in the skirt

of his garment, and put the snake in a nest in his own house. Every

day the snake laid him a precious stone. The youth became wealthy: he

built himself a fine house, took a wife, and lived like a lord. Still

the snake went on laying precious stones, the youth became richer

and richer, and gave himself up to gladness. One day his wife said to

him: 'Young man! who has made thee so fabulously rich, for thou wast

formerly poorer than any one on earth.' 'Who? God gave me wealth,'

said the husband, following the clever man's advice, not revealing

his secret. But the woman gave him no peace; day and night she always

asked the same thing: 'How didst thou become wealthy?--thou must tell

me, thou must.' The youth had no way of escape, she wearied him out,

and at last made him tell her all about the snake. Since there was

nothing else to be done, the young man took his wife and showed her

the snake that laid precious stones. After this, it happened that the

snake ceased to lay precious stones; the young man's wealth began to

diminish, and nothing was added to it.

When he was in this state, a certain man came and asked him for the

loan of a knife. Of course, being utterly cast down with grief and

sorrow, he remembered not the words the clever man had spoken to him,

and lent the knife. May it happen to thine enemy as it happened to

him! It happened that this wretched man was a thief. When he had got

the knife he went and broke into a house to steal; there he thrust

the knife into the belly of a sleeping man, slew him, and left the

knife in the dead man's body, then pillaged the house. Afterwards an

enquiry was made into the matter. They found the knife in the man who

had been killed and robbed, and it turned out to be the knife of the

young man. Of course he was taken and bound, all his goods were seized,

and he was treated as a thief ought to be treated. Thus did it happen

to the wretched youth who disobeyed the instructions of the clever man.

Yester eve I was there,

This evening I am here....

Three apples, [28] three pomegranates,

May God send thee,

Ripe in thy hands.

The tale, the tale is ended....

Thou hast eaten maize-bread with ashes, [29]

Thou hast drunk bad, stale wine,

And eaten a rotten walnut. [30]

II

KAZHA-NDII

There was once a king who had three sons and three daughters. When

the day of his death was come, he called all his children, and said

to his sons: 'Hearken to my will, and see that ye fulfil it. When I

die, let each of you watch my tomb for one week, give these maidens

to the suitors who ask for their hands.' After he had said farewell,

the king died.

He was buried, and on the first night the eldest brother went to

guard the grave. But in a short time something began to approach

with a mighty noise, and when it came near, it was so strong that it

drove the prince out of the enclosure. From a distance, the prince

saw how the being that had come with noise went to the king's grave,

dug up the corpse, and wept over it till morning; when morning came,

it buried the corpse in the earth again, and went away. When the prince

reached home, he was ashamed to say anything about what had happened.

At that time, both the elder brothers set out for the chase; the

youngest brother was left at home, he heard a voice and looked

round. It turned out to be a suitor for the hand of his sister. He

took and gave him the eldest sister. Soon after, he again heard

a voice. The prince looked round--another suitor had come. The

absence of his brothers somewhat disturbed him, but, according to

his father's will, he married his second sister also. A little later,

a third voice was heard, and to him he gave his third sister.

In the evening, when the two elder brothers came home, they did not

see their sisters; they asked the youngest, and he told them what

had happened. They were not pleased, and sent him out to feed the

sheep. That night the middle brother went to guard the king's grave;

the same thing happened to him as to his elder brother, but he too was

silent on the subject. When he reached home, the youngest brother began

to entreat his elder brothers, saying: 'Be just, let me also watch my

father's grave.' But they were angry, and answered: 'Get thee gone,

how couldst thou guard the grave when we are not able to do it!' But

afterwards they said one to the other: 'Let us allow him to go.'

So the youth went, came to the tomb of his father, lighted a

candle, and, as soon as he sat down, an uproar began, but he was

not affrighted. At the approach of the monster an earthquake began,

but the youth was not afraid, he swung his sword round his head,

and cleft the monster in twain, but the monster's blood put out the

candle. Looking round, the youth saw, some way off, the blaze of a

fire. He arose and went thither. On his way he said to the cock: 'Crow

not, so that dawn break not till I come back again, or I shall slay

thee.' When he came near, he met with a vast river like a sea. When

he had swum over and reached the other side, the youth saw that the

fire was burning among the demis, [31] who were sitting round it--so he

stopped and bethought himself seriously; but, at last, he took a leap,

jumped into the middle of them, seized a burning brand, and ran away.

The burning cinders and ashes were showered over the demis, but they

did not see the youth. The youth went back, but as he crossed the

river the burning log went out. He was angry at this, but what could

he do? He went back again, and when he threw himself upon the fire the

demis caught him, and asked what he wanted. He told them. The demis

said to him: 'In yonder castle there dwell three maidens unseen by the

sun, [32] thou must bring them to us or we will not let thee go.' The

youth asked them: 'Is there a ladder up to the castle?' They answered:

'Yes.' 'Then let us go,' said he.

He took all the demis with him, and said: 'I shall climb up first,

then you must come one by one.' They agreed. The youth went up, one

demi came after him. As soon as the first demi reached the top, the

youth brandished his sword, slew him, and laid down his body. When

the second came up, he did likewise unto him. Thus he slew them all,

one by one, and left their bodies there.

Then he went in, saluted the maidens, and gave each of them a ring--to

the youngest for himself, to the others for his brothers. The youth

went out, thrust his sword into a stone, and left it there, took fire

with him, and went back. When he had crossed the river, he cried to

the cock: 'Now crow!' Then he went to his father's grave. Till dawn

he stayed there, and then he went home.

The beautiful maidens told the king what had happened. The king

ordered all his subjects to be summoned, and asked: 'Who is able to

draw this sword out of the stone?' But nobody could draw it out. Then

the king made a proclamation: 'To him that can draw out this sword I

will give my daughter.' The princes, as soon as they heard of this,

decided to go thither. When they were making ready for the journey,

the youngest asked his brothers to take him too. At last they consented

to take him. When they arrived, they found a great uproar: people

from all parts of the world were, in turn, laying hold of the sword,

but could not draw it out. Last of all, the youngest brother came up,

pulled out his sword, put it in the scabbard, and said to the king:

'All three daughters are ours now, for I have two brothers.' He

called his brothers, and they took the three maidens to wife. Great

merry-making began.

The king gave to the wife of the youngest prince a flying carpet,

which carried away any one who sat on it. The princess sat on it, and

followed her suite. The groomsmen and youths set out with them. When

they had gone half way, a monster swooped down on the princess and

carried her off. A sad uproar began, but what was to be done? The

young prince said to his brothers: 'Farewell! I must perish with her,'

and went away.

He went, he went, he went, he went as far as he could, and in a field

he found a spring, beside which he lay down. There came a boy with a

water jug. The prince asked: 'Whose village is this?' The boy replied:

'Here dwell three brother demis, all married to daughters of one king.'

When the youth heard this he was glad, for it turned out that his

sisters dwelt here. When he came near, the sisters went out to meet

him. It is easy to imagine how glad they were to see him. When it

was dark, the three demis returned. One of the sisters went out

to meet them, and said: 'My brother is come.' The demis answered:

'If the elder brothers are come, we can make roast meat of them, if

it be the youngest, we shall know how to do him honour.' The demis

went in, and kissed the youth for joy at meeting him.

As they were all sitting round the hearth, the demis began to sigh

deeply. The youth asked them: 'Why do you sigh?' 'Why?--we are sorry

for that poor damsel! Kazha-Ndii-Kerkun (i.e. the swift, flint-like

demi) was carrying through the air a golden-haired woman; we pursued,

but only succeeded in pulling off a lock of the woman's hair.' They

showed the hair to the youth. As soon as he saw it he fainted, crying:

'Ah! woe is me! woe is me!' The demis asked him what was wrong. He

told them all. As soon as day dawned, the youth arose, and made ready

to depart. The demis were very sorry at this, but what could they

do? They gave him a horse and a little dog.

The youth set out, and came to the house of Kazha-Ndii; but Kazha-Ndii

was not at home. He dismounted, and went in to the princess; when

they saw each other, their joy was so great that they fell to the

ground. The princess said to him: 'O youth, why hast thou sought thy

doom? Against Kazha-Ndii thou canst do nothing.' But the young man

would not hearken, and lifted her on to his horse.

As soon as they reached the gate, it creaked so loudly that a star

fell from heaven. The door cried: 'Kazha-Ndii-Kerkun, where art

thou? they have carried off thy wife.' Kazha-Ndii heard this, and

pursued them. When he was overtaking them, Kazha-Ndii's horse neighed

so loudly that it stopped the princess's horse. The princess said

to him: 'O youth, did I not tell thee how it would be? Save thyself

at least.' Then Kazha-Ndii rode up, cut the youth into pieces, and

carried his wife back. The little dog came up, gathered the scattered

fragments of the young man's body, put them in a bag, tied it to the

saddle, mounted the horse, and took the body to the demis.

When the demis saw it they wept greatly, but their youngest brother

blew the soul back into the pieces, and raised the youth to life. The

prince arose, and again made ready to depart; the youngest demi said

to him: 'Here is my three-legged horse, [33] take him with thee; if

he do not help thee there is no help to hope for.' The youth mounted

the horse, came again to his princess, took her and put her on the

horse. When he was riding out of the gate it creaked more loudly than

before. Kazha-Ndii heard it and pursued them. As he was overtaking

them, Kazha-Ndii's horse neighed, and the youth's horse slackened its

speed. The young prince said to his horse: 'Why doest thou this?' 'What

can I do? If I had a fourth leg I might be victorious.' When Kazha-Ndii

came near, the three-legged horse neighed so loudly that it stopped

Kazha-Ndii's horse. Then the youth came up to him, brandished his

sword, cut Kazha-Ndii into halves, put the princess on his horse,

and they rode merrily away. They visited the demis and then went home.

III

THE STORY OF GERIA, THE POOR MAN'S SON

There was once a poor married man who had only one son; but this son

was very handsome and strong, and his name was Geria. [34] Once the

youth went out to hunt, and when he was coming home in the evening

he met a woman with a jar going to the spring for water; he aimed an

arrow at her, and broke the jar. The woman turned to him and said:

'If thou art so warlike, instead of breaking my pot why dost thou not

go and fetch the only sister of the twelve demis that dwell beyond

the twelve mountains?' When he heard this, the youth's heart began

to beat wildly for eagerness to see the maiden.

He went home and said to his parents: 'Get ready food to last me a

year, and if I do not come back in that time set out to seek for

me.' His parents would not consent, but said: 'We have no child

but thee, wilt thou go away from us and perish?' They wept with one

accord, but Geria heeded them not. So they got him provisions. They

bade him farewell with sobs. Such wailing was there that the parting

was known throughout the country side, yea, even to sun and moon,

to heaven and earth, to the sea and the sands thereof. At last they

blessed their son and let him go. He took with him a little dog,

whose name was Mathicochi. [35] When they took leave one of another,

they embraced, they kissed, and the youth sped on his way.

He went, he went, he went, he went as much as he could--week and week,

week and fortnight, a year and three months, [36]--he went over six

mountains. When he had crossed these six mountains everything round

about him began to reel: trees and stones fell down and clattered

into the valleys, but Geria was not hurt by them. Then, from beneath,

there came to him a voice, saying: 'What kind of man art thou to

stand thus against me. Who can resist me but Geria, the poor man's

son.' ''Tis I--Geria, the poor man's son.'

When she heard this, the Rokapi [37] went out to meet him, bowed

herself, did great honour to him, and said: 'Whither wilt thou go?' The

youth told her all. The Rokapi was moved with sorrow. Geria asked her:

'Why dost thou grieve?'--'For that I have seen many go thither, but

I have seen none come back.' But Geria heeded her not, and went on

his way.

He went, he went, he went more than he could, and when he had crossed

the other six mountains a still greater earthquake began. It turned

out that this region belonged to the eldest sister of the Rokapis; but

Geria showed no sign of fear. The Rokapi cried to him: 'What manner of

man art thou to resist my witchcraft? Art thou Geria, the poor man's

son?' He cried out to her: 'I am he.' The Rokapi at once went out to

meet him, bowed herself, treated him with respect, and asked him:

'Whither art thou going?' Geria told her his plan, and this Rokapi

too was distressed. Geria asked her why she grieved. She answered:

'Because I have seen many on their way thither, but I have never

seen one come back; albeit, I will do thee one service, I give thee

my three-legged horse.' She called the horse, and said to him: 'As

long as Geria lives serve him faithfully.' Geria bade her farewell,

mounted the horse, and rode away with his little dog Mathicochi.

He rode out into a great meadow, and came near the abode of the

demis. When he looked upon the mead his heart was glad, and his eyes

filled with tears, he bethought him of his home and its beautiful

fields, he uttered a blessing to God the merciful. Then he urged his

horse onward, at such speed that clouds of dust rose behind him. The

youth said to himself: 'Lo, I am now in the unknown land!' Up he rode

to the demis' gate, leaped from his horse, and tied it there.

He walked away a little, and then cried: 'Methinks I have not fastened

my horse securely!' Back he went, tore up an oak by the roots, planted

it with its branches downwards in the earth, and firmly tied his horse

to it. Then the horse said: 'If thou hadst not done this I should

have fled home, but now do as I tell thee, and all will be well. The

demis are indoors; go to the meadow, there thou wilt find a kettle,

overturn it. Then betake thyself to the damsel, and get her to plight

her troth to thee.'

Geria went, kicked the kettle, turned it over three times, and left

it upside down, then he went to the maiden, broke all the locks, and

came to the room where she was. She was astonished, but the youth's

bravery pleased her, and, to make a long story short, she promised

to marry him. The youth went out merrily to the place where he had

left his horse. There he quietly spent the night, and next morning the

horse said: 'The demis have now gone out to the meadow; when they saw

the kettle turned over they marvelled, for it usually takes all the

twelve demis to turn over that kettle, and they said one to another:

"Whatever we are commanded by him that turned over the kettle that

must we do,"--now it is time for thee to go thither.' Geria went to

the meadow.

As soon as the demis saw him, they all arose hastily, went to meet him,

bowed themselves, and said: 'What dost thou ask of us?' He answered:

'You must give me your sister to wife.' The demis said: 'We give her to

thee, but the Black King will not let thee take her.' Geria answered:

'I fear no man,' so (not to lengthen unduly a long story) they made

ready a banquet.

While the feast was still going on, in the morning, Geria looked out

of the door, and saw a host of men in black apparel, who had been sent

by the Black King. Geria mounted his horse, dashed into the midst

and defeated them all; three only did he save alive, as messengers,

and sent them to say to the Black King: ''Tis I that have done this,

Geria, the poor man's son.'

The King was very wroth, and sent almost all his army against him. When

Geria saw them, he bethought himself a little, but the horse said to

him: 'Youth! this is nothing, look for still worse.' Geria struck

the horse with his whip, attacked the host, and slew all but one;

him he sent to bear the news. Upon this, the king went out of himself

with rage: he summoned his devoted and loyal slave to whom he was

wont to apply in all his difficulties, by name Qvamuritz Khami; [38]

to him he committed all that was left of the army, and sent him out.

Geria arose and saw a sight, such a sight as I wish thine enemy

may see. It pleased him not to see Qvamuritz Khami; but what could

be done? The horse said to him: 'Youth! yonder is he of whom I

spake.' Geria crossed himself, gave thanks to God, bade his wife

farewell, for he thought to die, and went out. First of all he slew

the army, and then he began a single combat with Qvamuritz Khami.

Mounted they fought with maces, but the battle was not to the strong,

for Qvamuritz Khami's soul was safe in other hands--how could he

be killed? Qvamuritz Khami cried: 'O young man! thus shouldst thou

shoot!' and slew him. When Geria was dead, the victor slaughtered

all the demis, took Geria's wife, put her on her husband's horse,

and carried her off to his master.

But she said to the king: 'I am the widow of such a man that I will

not belong to a man like thee; either do battle with me, and let

the conqueror have his will, or give me leave to wear mourning for

three months.' The king feared to fight with her, for she was of the

demi race, so he gave her a respite of three months. When Geria was

killed, his head rolled one way and his body another; his faithful

dog Mathicochi went and put the two pieces together, and lay down to

guard them.

While all these things had been happening, a year had passed, and

when Geria's parents saw that he did not return, they set out to seek

him. When they came to a narrow road, they saw that several snakes had

met and were fighting, and all fell dead; then two great snakes crawled

out, threw themselves into the river, swam out again and began to crawl

over the dead snakes in various directions. They were all restored to

life. Geria's parents wondered at the sight, and said one to the other:

'Let us take a little of this water.' They took a thimblefull of it.

When they approached, the little dog, Mathicochi, saw them, and ran

to meet them; sadly he took them to the dead body. When the unhappy

parents saw Geria dead, they both fell to the ground and sobbed

bitterly; then they remembered that the mother of the unfortunate

youth had the wonderful water with her. As soon as they sprinkled

Geria with it he came to life, and said: 'Woe is me! what a long time

I have slept!' When he saw his parents, he was glad, but, remembering

all that had befallen him, he again grew sad, and bade his parents

farewell once more. They wept much, but, putting their trust in God,

armed themselves with patience.

Geria set out for the land of the Black King, and when he came near,

went into a great forest; as he entered, he heard a very great

noise. He stopped, and there, on the road, he saw some one coming

along, destroying all the forest as he went, tree fell on tree;

he looked steadily, and saw a great boar rushing straight towards

him; he threw himself on it, lifted it, and cast it three shoulders'

lengths [39] away from him; but they wrestled again, they wrestled,

they wrestled, three whole days they wrestled. At last the youth was

victorious, and tore the wild boar into halves. From the lacerated

boar there leaped out a wild goat. When the youth killed the wild goat,

there fell from it a little box; when he broke the box, three swallows

flew from it,--two of them he killed, the third he caught and kept.

At that time Qvamuritz Khami fell ill, the agony of death came upon

him, for it turned out that this swallow was his soul. Geria killed

the swallow, and Qvamuritz Khami died. [40]

After this, Geria went into the king's palace, and slew all therein

excepting his wife. Her he took to his parents, whose patience and

grief were exchanged for great joy. They all went home together.

IV

THE PRINCE WHO BEFRIENDED THE BEASTS

There was a king, and he had three sons. Once he fell ill, and became

blind in both eyes. He sent his sons for a surgeon. All the surgeons

agreed that there was a fish of a rare kind by the help of which the

king might be cured. [41] They made a sketch of the fish, and left

it with the sick monarch.

The king commanded his eldest son to go and catch that fish in the

sea. A hundred men with their nets were lost in the sea, but nought

could they find like the fish they sought. The eldest son came home

to his father and said: 'I have found nothing.' This displeased the

king, but what could he do? Then the second son set out, taking with

him a hundred men also, but all his men were lost too, and he brought

back nothing.

After this, the youngest brother went. He had recourse to cunning;

he took with him a hundred kilas [42] of flour and one man. He came to

the sea, and every day he strewed flour in the water, near the shore,

until all the flour was used up; the fishes grew fat on the flour,

and said: 'Let us do a service to this youth since he has enabled

us to grow fat'; so, as soon as the youth threw a net into the sea,

he at once drew out the rare fish he sought. He wrapped it up in the

skirt of his robe, and went his way.

As he rode along, some distance from his companion, he heard a voice

that said: 'O youth, I am dying!' But on looking round he saw no man,

and continued his journey. After a short time, he again heard the same

words. He looked round more carefully, but saw nothing. Then he glanced

at the skirt of his robe, and saw that the fish had its mouth open,

and was dying. The youth said to it: 'What dost thou want?' The fish

answered: 'It will be better for thee if thou wilt let me go, some

day I shall be of use to thee.' The youth took it and threw it into

the water, saying to his comrade: 'I hope thou wilt not betray me.'

When he reached home, he told his father that he had been

unsuccessful. Some time passed. Once the prince quarrelled with his

comrade, and the latter ran off and told the king how his son had

deceived him. When the king heard this, he ordered his son to be

taken away and killed. He was taken out, but when they were about

to kill him, the youth entreated them, saying: 'What doth it profit

you if you slay me? If you let me go, 'twill be a good deed, and

I shall flee to foreign lands.' The executioners took pity on him,

and set him free; he thanked them, and departed.

He went, he went, he went, he went farther than anybody ever went--he

came to a great forest. As he went through the forest, he saw a deer

running, in a great state of alarm. The youth stopped, and fixed his

gaze on it; then the deer came up and fell on its face before him. The

youth asked: 'What ails thee?' 'The prince pursues me, and on thee

depends my safety.' The youth took the deer with him and went on. A

huntsman met him, and asked: 'Whither art thou leading the deer?' The

youth replied: 'One king has sent it as a gift to another king, and,

lo! I am taking it.' The youth thus saved the deer from death, and

the deer said: 'A time will come when I shall save thy life.'

The youth went on his way: he went, he went, he went, so far he went,

good sir, that the 'three day colt' (of fable) could not go so far. He

looked, and, lo! a frightened eagle perched on his shoulder, and said:

'Youth, on thee depends my safety!' The youth protected it also from

its pursuer. Then the eagle said to him: 'Some day I shall do thee

a service.'

The youth went on: he went through the forest, he went, he went,

he went, he went farther than he could, he went a week, two weeks,

a year and three months. Then he heard some fearful rumbling,

roaring, thunder and lightning--something was coming through the

forest, breaking down all the trees. A great jackal appeared, and

ran up to the youth, saying: 'If thou wilt thou canst protect me;

the prince is pursuing me with all his army.' The youth saved the

jackal, as he had saved the other animals. Then the jackal said:

'Some day I shall help thee.'

The youth went on his way, and, when he was out of the wood, came to

a town. In this town he found a castle of crystal, in the courtyard of

which he saw a great number of young men, some dying and some dead. He

asked the meaning of this, and was told: 'The king of this land has a

daughter, a maiden queen; she has made a proclamation that she will

wed him that can hide himself from her; but no man can hide himself

from her, and all these men has she slain, for he that cannot hide

himself from her is cast down from the top of the castle.'

When the youth heard this, he at once arose, and went to the

maiden. They bowed themselves each to the other. The maiden asked him:

'Wherefore art thou come hither?' The youth answered: 'I come for

that which others have come for.' She immediately called her viziers

together, and they wrote out the usual contract.

The youth went out from the castle, came to the seashore, sat down,

and was soon buried in thought. Just then, something made a great

splash in the sea, came and swallowed the youth, carried him into

the Red Sea, there they were hidden in the depths of the sea, near

the shore. The youth remained there all that night.

When the maiden arose next morning she brought her mirror and looked

in it, but she found nothing in the sky, she looked on the dry land,

and found nothing there, she looked at the sea--and then she saw

the youth in the belly of the fish, which was hiding in the deep

waters. After a short time, the fish threw up the youth on the place

where it had found him. He went merrily to the maiden. She asked:

'Well, then, didst thou hide thyself?' 'Yes, I hid myself.' But the

maiden told him where he had been, and how he got there, and added:

'This time I forgive thee, for the cleverness thou hast shown.'

The youth set out again, and sat down in a field. Then something fell

upon him, and took him up into the air, lifted him up into the sky,

and covered him with its wing. When the maiden arose next morning,

she looked in her mirror, she gazed at the mountain, she gazed at the

earth, but she found nothing, she looked at the sky, and there she saw

how the eagle was covering the youth. The eagle carried the youth down,

and put him on the ground. He was joyful, thinking that the maiden

could not have seen him; but when he came to her she told him all.

Then he fell into deep melancholy, but the maiden, being struck with

wonder at his cunning in hiding himself, told him that she again

forgave him. He went out again, and, as he was walking in the field,

the deer came to him and said: 'Mount on my back.' He mounted, and the

deer carried him away, away, away over all the mountains that were

there, and put him in a lair. When the maiden arose next morning,

she found him, and when he came back to her she said: 'Young man,

it seems that thou hast many friends, but thou canst not hide thyself

from me; yet this day also I forgive thee.' The youth went sadly away;

he had lost confidence.

When he sat down in the field, an earthquake began, the town shook,

lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and when a thunderbolt had fallen,

there leapt out from it his friend the gigantic jackal, and said

to him: 'Fear not, O youth!' The jackal had recourse to its wonted

cunning, it began to scrape at the earth: it dug, it dug, it dug,

and burrowed right up to the place where the maiden dwelt, and then

it said to the youth: 'Stay thou here, she will look at the sky,

the mountain, the sea, and when she cannot find thee she will break

her mirror; when thou hearest this, then strike thy head through the

ground and come out.'

This advice, of course, pleased the youth. When the maiden arose in

the morning, she looked at the sea, she found him not, she looked

at the mountain, she looked at the sky, and still she could not see

him, so she broke her mirror. Then the youth pushed his head through

the floor, bowed, and said to the maiden: 'Thou art mine and I am

thine!' They summoned the viziers, sent the news to the king, and a

great feast began.

V

THE CUNNING OLD MAN AND THE DEMI

There was once an old man. He might have worked but he was lazy. His

children went out to the fields, but this old man sat by the fire,

and if they did not show him great respect, he kept them out of the

house. His daughters-in-law quarrelled with him, and ended by turning

him out of the house. He begged of his eldest daughter-in-law, saying:

'Give me a jar of flour, an egg, [43] and an awl, then I shall go

away.' She gave him these things.

The old man went on day and night, and came to the bank of a stream;

he looked over, and saw on the other side a demi, to whom he cried:

'Carry me across this river.' The demi answered: 'I shall not carry

thee, but thou shalt carry me across, or I shall turn thee into

dust.' The demi seized a stone, struck it on the rocky bank, and

turned the great stone into powder. The old man also took his jar of

flour, struck it on the rock, and dust arose. The demi was astonished,

and said: 'How has he turned this stone into powder?' The demi took

another stone, squeezed it in his hand, and said: 'I shall crush thee

like this stone.' Then the old man took out the egg, squeezed it, and

when the moisture began to ooze out, the demi was alarmed: he came over

the stream, took the old man on his shoulder, and carried him across.

In the middle of the stream, the demi said to the old man: 'How light

thou art!' The old man answered: 'I am holding on to the sky with

one hand, if I let go, thou wouldst fall under my weight.' The demi

said: 'Just leave go for a moment.' The old man took out the awl,

and stuck it in the demi's neck. The demi cried: 'Lay hold of the

sky again!' The old man put the awl in his pocket.

When they had reached the other side, the demi said to the old man:

'I shall drive in game, and thou canst meet it here.' So the demi

went and drove in the game. The old man was afraid of wild beasts,

and hid himself in the forest, where he found a dead red-breast. [44]

When the demi returned, he asked: 'What hast thou done with the

game?' The old man replied: 'Thou didst not drive the game properly,

or how could any beast that walks on earth escape from me, that could

catch this bird on the wing?'

The demi went and killed two deer, two wild goats, two boars, two

hares; some he boiled, some he roasted, he made ready two measures

(kilas of 36 to 40 pounds) of millet, two cocas (a coca=25 bottles)

of wine, and said: 'Let us sit down and eat.' The old man said:

'Make me a bridge over this river, there will I sup.' The demi built

him a little bridge, on which he seated himself. The demi gave him

one deer, one wild goat, one boar, one hare, one kila of millet,

one coca of wine, and then sat down near him in the field. The demi

ate, but the old man threw the food into the river. The demi thought

the old man was eating everything, and was afraid, thinking: 'It

would seem that he can eat more than I can.' Lower down the stream,

wolves caught and ate the meat the old man threw away. The old man

asked for another deer. The demi brought it, and the old man threw

it in the water. The demi did not know this. The old man said:

'I have had a snack this evening.'

Next day, the demi invited the old man to his house. They went

there. The demi went out alone to hunt. He met a wolf and a jackal,

and said to them: 'Come and hunt with me. To my house there has

come a guest who can eat ten deer and wild goats; yesterday evening

we had two deer, but they were a mere snack to him.' The wolf and

the jackal said to the demi: 'Thy guest did not eat one of them,

he threw everything into the river, we caught it and ate it, the

old man ate nothing.' The demi said to the wolf and the jackal:

'Then let us go and expose this old man's fraud.'

There went with the demi nine wolves and jackals, to give evidence

against the old man. The old man looked out, and saw the demi coming

along in front, with the wolves and jackals behind him. The old

man cried to the demi: 'Dost thou not owe me more than ten wolves

and jackals?' The wolves and jackals exchanged glances, and said:

'It would seem that this demi has betrayed us.' They threw themselves

on the demi and turned him into dust. [45]

VI

SANARTIA

There was once a king who reached old age without having a son. When

he was very old, his wife at last bore him a son. The child was called

Sanartia (i.e. desired, longed for); he grew up, and became very good

and very clever, so that he understood everything that took place

among earthly beings, wherever they were; but he did not obey his

mother. She therefore hated him, and said to the king, her husband:

'Since this boy will not obey his mother in anything, take him and

throw him into the great deep sea.'

The king was much distressed, but he did as his wife asked. The

youth guessed what his parents were talking about, but he showed no

resistance. After this, his father said: 'Let us go and look at the

town.' Then the youth said: 'Papa, give me a little money.' His father

gave him money, and they went to see the town. When they arrived,

the boy bought a little axe, knives, needle, thread, flint and tinder.

When they were on their way home, they came near the sea; the boy

pulled up an oak tree, and carried it on his shoulder. The father

was the first to see the sea, and when they were on the shore he

said to his son: 'Come hither, and see what a big fish I shall show

thee.' When the son came up to look, his father cast him into the

great sea, together with the tree he carried. A fish swallowed the

youth; his father turned and went home.

In the sea, the youth kindled a fire in the fish's belly, cut caviar

out of it, roasted and ate it. On the caviar from this fish the youth

lived thirty years, in the belly of that fish. Then, his firewood,

flint and tinder being well-nigh exhausted, he made a very big

fire. When the fish felt the heat, it leaped up and fell on the dry

land. The youth said: 'I will cut open the fish's belly, and see--if

it is in the water, I shall sew it up again, if it is ashore, I shall

make a hole and get out.' He cut a little, and saw that it was on

land. Then he cut a large opening, came out of the fish, made a fire,

cut flesh from the fish, roasted it, and ate it.

Just then, there passed a prince, on his way to marry a maiden, and

he saw the other prince coming out of the fish. The prince who was

going to seek his bride, sent a man to the youth to ask him to make

way, for he was sitting in the road, and there was no other road for

horsemen. But Sanartia would not move. Then the prince himself rode up,

and asked: 'Who art thou?' Sanartia told him the name of the king,

his father. Then the prince invited him, saying: 'I go to marry a

wife; ride with me.' Sanartia agreed, and they went together to the

appointed place.

When they came near, they sent on a man to the king, who was master

of the country, asking him to give his daughter in marriage to the

prince. The king agreed, and sent to say: 'If the prince succeeds

in performing two exploits, I shall fulfil his wish; but to do these

deeds is both hard and perilous: the princess throws a great lump of

lead as far as a gun will carry a bullet, the suitor must throw it

back again to the place where the princess is standing.' The suitor

for the maiden's hand sent and said: 'I will do this.'

He went and stood in the place the maiden pointed out to him. She

threw a piece of lead which fell at the place where the prince stood;

he was not only unable to throw the lead, but could not even lift

it from the ground; then his comrade, the other prince, Sanartia,

took up the lead and threw it for him. The piece of lead went much

farther than the maiden had thrown it.

This exploit having been performed, the prince had another to do:

mistaking Sanartia for the suitor, they took him to a wilderness where

there was a castle, and in it dwelt Ocho-Kochi. [46] They opened the

door of the castle, and let in the prince, saying: 'This Ocho-Kochi

will kill the young man.' He spent that night in the castle.

When he was preparing to sleep, Ocho-Kochi came to him and wished

to kill him, but Sanartia was very strong, he seized Ocho-Kochi,

threw him on the ground, and beat him with all his might. When he

had thrashed him soundly, he said to him: 'Go and stand at the gate

as watchman.' So he went and watched till dawn.

In the morning, the king, the maiden's father, sent his vizier,

saying: 'Find out what the prince and Ocho-Kochi are doing.' When

the vizier came to the door, Ocho-Kochi called out from the inside:

'Master sleeps, wake him not, or he will beat me.' The vizier made no

reply to Ocho-Kochi, but went back and told the king what he had heard.

The king was amazed, he set out for the castle, and said to

Ocho-Kochi: 'Open the door to me.' But Ocho-Kochi replied: 'Master

will kill me.' Just then, Sanartia awoke, and said to Ocho-Kochi:

'Open the door for him.' He immediately opened the door, and let in

the king. Then the king and Sanartia went away together. The king

wished to marry him to his daughter, but Sanartia went away secretly;

he dressed the prince, his companion, in his clothes, and sent him

in his place to the king; as soon as he arrived he was wedded to the

princess. Afterwards Sanartia visited him as a friend.

If they had known that Sanartia had performed these exploits they would

not have given the princess to the other prince. But a handmaiden at

the court found out the secret somehow, that Sanartia had done the

deeds, and the princess's husband had done nothing. One evening the

handmaiden told the princess how Sanartia had cheated her and married

her to another man; she was angry, and that same night, after Sanartia

had lain down to sleep, she went and cut off his leg at the knee.

Sanartia did not die of the wound, but went away to another land,

and became friendly with a one-handed man, and they lived together

in the house of the latter. Afterwards they built a house in common,

and moved into it. Sanartia took a maiden, and kept her with him

as nurse. [47] The two friends went out to hunt, and stayed in the

forest all night. At home there was nobody but the maiden.

Meantime there came a demi, who sucked the maiden's breast and then

went away. When Sanartia and his friend came home, the girl told

them what had happened. Sanartia left his friend and the girl at

home, and said to them: 'If the demi comes, take him and keep him

till I come back.' The demi came, but the man was afraid to lay hold

of him; and the demi went away again. As soon as Sanartia came in,

he asked his friend and his nurse: 'What did you do?' They answered:

'The demi came, but we could not take him, and he went away again.'

Next day Sanartia stayed at home, and sent his friend to hunt. The

demi came that night also, but as soon as Sanartia saw him he met

him at the door, and when the demi came in, Sanartia seized him and

threw him to the ground, then he told the nurse to bring a rope, with

which he bound him tightly. He took out his dagger, and was about to

cut him in pieces, but the demi entreated him, saying: 'Slay me not,

and I will heal thee of all infirmities.' Sanartia hearkened to the

demi's prayers, and said: 'If thou wilt restore my leg which was cut

off I will let thee go, otherwise I slay thee.'

The demi pledged his word to heal him, and led him to a great river,

saying: 'Put thy leg therein and it will be sound.' But Sanartia did

not yet believe the demi, so he ordered him to bring a dry stick,

and said: 'Put this stick in the water, and if it becomes green and

bears leaves then will I put in my leg, otherwise I will not.' The

stick was put in the water, but it came out as dry as before.

Then Sanartia was angry, and wished to kill the demi, but again he

entreated, saying: 'There is still another healing stream.' So he

took him to the other stream, and as soon as Sanartia put in his leg

it was made whole and sound like the other leg. After this, he did

not kill the demi, but let him go free; he made the demi heal his

one-handed friend, whom he wedded to his nurse. He left them there,

and set out for his father's house.

But when he reached it, nobody knew him. Next day he secretly mounted

his father's horse, and went to the place where he had married the

prince to the princess. On the road he saw a swineherd; when he

approached, he recognised in him his old friend the prince. When he

questioned him, the swineherd replied: 'As soon as thou hadst gone

hence they made me a swineherd.' Sanartia drew out his sword, gave it

to him, and said: 'Kill all the swine but three, and wound those three;

then drive the three home, I shall be there, ready to punish anybody

who is angry with thee.' The swineherd did as Sanartia told him,

and in the evening drove the three swine into the king's courtyard.

Sanartia came to the palace earlier, but they did not recognise

him. When the swineherd drove in his swine, his wife was about to

beat him, saying: 'Why hast thou lost the swine.' But at that moment

Sanartia appeared before the princess, was angry with her, and said:

'If thou wert a good woman thou wouldst not make thy husband feed

swine.'... They knew at once that it was Sanartia, and were much

amazed, saying: 'His leg was cut off at the knee, how has he replaced

his leg?' Sanartia ordered them to bring the princess's husband: he

made her wash him well with her own hands, bring clothes, and dress

him in noble apparel. When Sanartia was leaving for home, he called

the princess and her parents, and said to them: 'If you do not treat

the prince as becomes his rank, I shall come at once, and it will

fare ill with you.' He took leave of them all and went home.

VII

THE SHEPHERD JUDGE

In a certain land, there was once a king who had four viziers to

judge the people. Once these judges uttered a remarkable sentence. At

that time there came to the king a certain shepherd, who spoke in

a manner that pleased the king, so he commanded the viziers: 'Show

this shepherd the sentence you pronounced.' When the shepherd had

examined the decree of the viziers, it did not please him; he took

it and altered it from beginning to end.

When the king saw this, he said to the shepherd: 'Since thou art so

skilled in judging, be thou a judge.' The shepherd refused, and said:

'As long as I have eyes I cannot judge, if you put out both my eyes

then I will be a judge.' Finally he persuaded them to put out his

eyes. They built him a great, fine house, they gave him scribes,

furnished him with everything befitting his office, and made the

shepherd supreme judge.

He began to do justice in such an upright manner that people flocked

to him from every side. Everybody went to him for justice: great and

small, master and servant, old and young, clergy and laity, friend

and enemy--in a word, all who had suits with anybody came to him,

every one praised and blessed his decisions.

Once there came to him a man and a woman. The man said to the judge: 'I

came to this woman's house on a mule; a calf accompanied my mule. When

I tied up the mule, the calf began to suck its breast. The woman,

seeing this, ran out, seized the calf, and began to grumble at me,

saying it was her calf, and asking how it came to be with my mule. I

withstood her with all my might, but it was of no avail. She wished

to drag away the calf, but I would not allow it, I would not give

up my property to her; we quarrelled, and now we have come before

thee--in God's name judge between us!' Thus he spoke in person to the

judge, but secretly he sent him a large bribe and a message, saying:

'Take this money, and put me not to shame before this woman.'

But the judge would not tamper with the scales of justice, and sent

to tell the man: 'How can I take the calf from the woman by force,

if justice do not demand it?' The judge asked the woman: 'What sayest

thou?' The woman replied: 'My lord, this man rode up to my house

on a mule; I had nothing in the world but one calf and its mother,

which I loved; my calf went up to this man's mule, caressed it,

and took hold of it with its snout, as if it were going to suck its

breast. The man, seeing this, thought: 'I shall certainly take away

this calf with me.' He dragged it home, but, of course, I could not

allow this--all extol thine equity, I too am come to thy door, and

trust thou wilt not suffer me to be trampled down by injustice.'

When the judge had heard both sides, he pronounced the following

decision: 'Since a mule never bore offspring and never will, it is

still less possible that a mule should bring forth a calf. Let the

calf therefore be taken from the man, and given to the woman who owns

the cow, the mother of the calf.' This judgment pleased everybody

in the highest degree. And God was merciful to this good judge:

by means of the kerchief of that woman his eyes were made whole,

and he saw. After this he saw with both eyes, but till the day of

his death he judged uprightly; when he died he went to heaven.

VIII

THE PRIEST'S YOUNGEST SON

There was once a priest who had three sons. On the day of his death,

the priest said to his sons: 'When I die, let each of you read the

psalter over me for one night.' But the elder sons did not do as

their father had bidden them, only the youngest read the psalter over

him. That night his father appeared, and gave him a horse. Next night

he again read the psalter over his father in his brothers' place. His

father again appeared, and gave him another horse, which he resolved

to give to his younger brother. On the third night he again read the

psalter. His father brought him a third horse, gave the young man

his blessing, and departed.

At that time, a princess was to be married to any man whose horse

could jump up to the castle, so that its rider could kiss that

maiden-queen. Many princes came to woo, but none of their horses could

leap up to the castle. Then the priest's youngest son mounted the horse

his father had given him, and rode up to the royal palace; he struck

the horse with his switch, and made it jump, but it could only go one

third of the way up to the castle. Next day he mounted another horse,

and made it jump, it went two thirds of the height of the castle. The

third day he came on the third horse, and made it jump; it jumped

right up to the top of the castle; the youth kissed the princess,

and they married him to her. After this the priest's son went home.

At this time the queen, his mother-in-law, fell ill; she sent for her

son-in-law, and said to him: 'Between the white sea and the black

sea there feeds a doe, they tell me that its milk will do me good;

if thou canst get it for me I shall recover, if not, I must die.' Then

the youth mounted his horse and went forth. He rode between the seas,

milked the doe, brought its milk to his mother-in-law, gave it to

her to drink, and healed her.

MINGRELIAN PROVERBS

1. Turn to the right, or turn to the left,

'Twill all be one in the end. [48]

2. The rat that came from outside,

Drove out the house-born rat.

3. Fight for the outlying village,

If thou wantest the one nearer home.

4. Wish thy neighbour to have an ox,

And God will send it to thee.

5. The wolf was abused as wolfish,

While the jackal ate up the flock.

6. The hen scratched and scratched till she dug up a knife,

With which her own throat was afterwards cut.

7. The road runs where an old road ran,

The river flows in the bed of a former river.

8. 'Give me room to stand,' quoth the bull, 'and I

Shall make myself enough room to lie.'

9. If the bear overcome thee--then call him Papa. [49]

10. The dog took fright at a wolf,

And barked all the year round at a stump.

11. Who ever heard of a fish being prized

As long as it stayed in the stream?

12. They shot at the ripe--but the green fruit fell.

13. Leave a good deed on a stone by the way,

Thou'lt find it again after many a day (i.e. Cast thy bread on the

waters).

14. I say it--but whether it happen or no

'Tis nothing to do with me.

15. Eat and drink up whatever is thine,

But cross thyself over all that's mine.

16. Who slew me?--My brother.

Who brought me back to life?--My brother.

17. The well-doer receives not good in return.

18. The truthful man is always duped.

19. My father I love, my mother I love--

But myself I prefer before all.

20. A heart-kiss is better than a lip-kiss.

21. If thou hast not eaten pepper, why does thy mouth burn?

22. A disease that one sees, will not kill;

'Tis hidden sores do the most ill.

23. Our granny has no teeth, so she

Likes not others' teeth to see.

24. He has forgotten the soul of his father, so he swears by the soul

of his grandsire.

25. Gold is good, but if thou have it not, of what use is it to thee?

26. Better is copper of thine own than gold that is another's.

27. Of what use is light to him that is blind?

28. If thou art brave, do not bewail

The bluntness of thy sword.

Georgian Folk Tales · 第 3 / 4 章