Lang Andrew
The Grey Fairy Book
What was the surprise of the Bassa when he beheld in the old dervish the man who had given the chaplet, the copper plaque, and the bracelet to his three sons. ‘Fear nothing, holy father,’ he said, ‘you are safe with me. But tell us, how came you here?’
‘My lord,’ explained the dervish, ‘when my beard was cut off during my sleep by the two Circassians, I was ashamed to appear before the eyes of men, and fled, bearing with me the pink silk bag. In the night these three men fell in with me, and we passed some time in conversation, but at dawn, when it was light enough to see each other’s faces, one of them exclaimed that I was the dervish travelling with the two Circassians who had stolen the talismans from the Jews. I jumped up and tried to fly to my cave, but they were too quick for me, and just as we reached your garden they snatched the bag which contained the little black pig and flung it into the sea. By this act, which delivers your son, I would pray you to forgive them for any wrongs they may have done you – nay more, that you will recompense them for it.’ The Bassa granted the holy man’s request, and seeing that the two Jews had fallen victims to the charms of the Circassian ladies, gave his consent to their union, which was fixed to take place at the same time as that of Izaf with the wise Sumi. The Cadi was sent for, and the Jews exchanged the hats of their race for the turbans of the followers of the Prophet. Then, after so many misfortunes, the Bassa’s three sons entreated their father to delay their happiness no longer, and the six marriages were performed by the Cadi at the hour of noon.
[Cabinet des Fees.]
The Jackal and the Spring
Once upon a time all the streams and rivers ran so dry that the animals did not know how to get water. After a very long search, which had been quite in vain, they found a tiny spring, which only wanted to be dug deeper so as to yield plenty of water. So the beasts said to each other, ‘Let us dig a well, and then we shall not fear to die of thirst;’ and they all consented except the jackal, who hated work of any kind, and generally got somebody to do it for him.
When they had finished their well, they held a council as to who should be made the guardian of the well, so that the jackal might not come near it, for, they said, ‘he would not work, therefore he shall not drink.’
After some talk it was decided that the rabbit should be left in charge; then all the other beasts went back to their homes.
When they were out of sight the jackal arrived. ‘Good morning! Good morning, rabbit!’ and the rabbit politely said, ‘Good morning!’ Then the jackal unfastened the little bag that hung at his side, and pulled out of it a piece of honeycomb which he began to eat, and turning to the rabbit he remarked:
‘As you see, rabbit, I am not thirsty in the least, and this is nicer than any water.’
‘Give me a bit,’ asked the rabbit. So the jackal handed him a very little morsel.
‘Oh, how good it is!’ cried the rabbit; ‘give me a little more, dear friend!’
But the jackal answered, ‘If you really want me to give you some more, you must have your paws tied behind you, and lie on your back, so that I can pour it into your mouth.’
The rabbit did as he was bid, and when he was tied tight and popped on his back, the jackal ran to the spring and drank as much as he wanted. When he had quite finished he returned to his den.
In the evening the animals all came back, and when they saw the rabbit lying with his paws tied, they said to him: ‘Rabbit, how did you let yourself be taken in like this?’
‘It was all the fault of the jackal,’ replied the rabbit; ‘he tied me up like this, and told me he would give me something nice to eat. It was all a trick just to get at our water.’
‘Rabbit, you are no better than an idiot to have let the jackal drink our water when he would not help to find it. Who shall be our next watchman? We must have somebody a little sharper than you!’ and the little hare called out, ‘I will be the watchman.’
The following morning the animals all went their various ways, leaving the little hare to guard the spring. When they were out of sight the jackal came back. ‘Good morning! good morning, little hare,’ and the little hare politely said, ‘Good morning.’
‘Can you give me a pinch of snuff?’ said the jackal.
‘I am so sorry, but I have none,’ answered the little hare.
The jackal then came and sat down by the little hare, and unfastened his little bag, pulling out of it a piece of honeycomb. He licked his lips and exclaimed, ‘Oh, little hare, if you only knew how good it is!’
‘What is it?’ asked the little hare.
‘It is something that moistens my throat so deliciously,’ answered the jackal, ‘that after I have eaten it I don’t feel thirsty any more, while I am sure that all you other beasts are for ever wanting water.’
‘Give me a bit, dear friend,’ asked the little hare.
‘Not so fast,’ replied the jackal. ‘If you really wish to enjoy what you are eating, you must have your paws tied behind you, and lie on your back, so that I can pour it into your mouth.’
‘You can tie them, only be quick,’ said the little hare, and when he was tied tight and popped on his back, the jackal went quietly down to the well, and drank as much as he wanted. When he had quite finished he returned to his den.
In the evening the animals all came back; and when they saw the little hare with his paws tied, they said to him: ‘Little hare, how did you let yourself be taken in like this? Didn’t you boast you were very sharp? You undertook to guard our water; now show us how much is left for us to drink!’
‘It is all the fault of the jackal,’ replied the little hare. ‘He told me he would give me something nice to eat if I would just let him tie my hands behind my back.’
Then the animals said, ‘Who can we trust to mount guard now?’ And the panther answered, ‘Let it be the tortoise.’
The following morning the animals all went their various ways, leaving the tortoise to guard the spring. When they were out of sight the jackal came back. ‘Good morning, tortoise; good morning.’
But the tortoise took no notice.
‘Good morning, tortoise; good morning.’ But still the tortoise pretended not to hear.
Then the jackal said to himself, ‘Well, to-day I have only got to manage a bigger idiot than before. I shall just kick him on one side, and then go and have a drink.’ So he went up to the tortoise and said to him in a soft voice, ‘Tortoise! tortoise!’ but the tortoise took no notice. Then the jackal kicked him out of the way, and went to the well and began to drink, but scarcely had he touched the water, than the tortoise seized him by the leg. The jackal shrieked out: ‘Oh, you will break my leg!’ but the tortoise only held on the tighter. The jackal then took his bag and tried to make the tortoise smell the honeycomb he had inside; but the tortoise turned away his head and smelt nothing. At last the jackal said to the tortoise, ‘I should like to give you my bag and everything in it,’ but the only answer the tortoise made was to grasp the jackal’s leg tighter still.
So matters stood when the other animals came back. The moment he saw them, the jackal gave a violent tug, and managed to free his leg, and then took to his heels as fast as he could. And the animals all said to the tortoise:
‘Well done, tortoise, you have proved your courage; now we can drink from our well in peace, as you have got the better of that thieving jackal!’
[Contes Populaires des Bassoutos, recueillis et traduits par E. Jacottet. Paris: Leroux, editeur.]
The Bear
Once on a time there was a king who had an only daughter. He was so proud and so fond of her, that he was in constant terror that something would happen to her if she went outside the palace, and thus, owing to his great love for her, he forced her to lead the life of a prisoner, shut up within her own rooms.
The princess did not like this at all, and one day she complained about it very bitterly to her nurse. Now, the nurse was a witch, though the king did not know it. For some time she listened and tried to soothe the princess; but when she saw that she would not be comforted, she said to her: ‘Your father loves you very dearly, as you know. Whatever you were to ask from him he would give you. The one thing he will not grant you is permission to leave the palace. Now, do as I tell you. Go to your father and ask him to give you a wooden wheel-barrow, and a bear’s skin. When you have got them bring them to me, and I will touch them with my magic wand. The wheel-barrow will then move of itself, and will take you at full speed wherever you want to go, and the bear’s skin will make such a covering for you, that no one will recognise you.’
So the princess did as the witch advised her. The king, when he heard her strange request, was greatly astonished, and asked her what she meant to do with a wheel-barrow and a bear’s skin. And the princess answered, ‘You never let me leave the house – at least you might grant me this request’ So the king granted it, and the princess went back to her nurse, taking the barrow and the bear’s skin with her.
As soon as the witch saw them, she touched them with her magic wand, and in a moment the barrow began to move about in all directions. The princess next put on the bear’s skin, which so completely changed her appearance, that no one could have known that she was a girl and not a bear. In this strange attire she seated herself on the barrow, and in a few minutes she found herself far away from the palace, and moving rapidly through a great forest. Here she stopped the barrow with a sign that the witch had shown her, and hid herself and it in a thick grove of flowering shrubs.
Now it happened that the prince of that country was hunting with his dogs in the forest. Suddenly he caught sight of the bear hiding among the shrubs, and calling his dogs, hounded them on to attack it. But the girl, seeing what peril she was in, cried, ‘Call off your dogs, or they will kill me. What harm have I ever done to you?’ At these words, coming from a bear, the prince was so startled that for a moment he stood stock-still, then he said quite gently, ‘Will you come with me? I will take you to my home.’
‘I will come gladly,’ replied the bear; and seating herself on the barrow it at once began to move in the direction of the prince’s palace. You may imagine the surprise of the prince’s mother when she saw her son return accompanied by a bear, who at once set about doing the house-work better than any servant that the queen had ever seen.
Now it happened that there were great festivities going on in the palace of a neighbouring prince, and at dinner, one day, the prince said to his mother: ‘This evening there is to be a great ball, to which I must go.’
And his mother answered, ‘Go and dance, and enjoy yourself.’
Suddenly a voice came from under the table, where the bear had rolled itself, as was its wont: ‘Let me come to the ball; I, too, would like to dance.’
But the only answer the prince made was to give the bear a kick, and to drive it out of the room.
In the evening the prince set off for the ball. As soon as he had started, the bear came to the queen and implored to be allowed to go to the ball, saying that she would hide herself so well that no one would know she was there. The kind-hearted queen could not refuse her.
Then the bear ran to her barrow, threw off her bear’s skin, and touched it with the magic wand that the witch had given her. In a moment the skin was changed into an exquisite ball dress woven out of moon-beams, and the wheel-barrow was changed into a carriage drawn by two prancing steeds. Stepping into the carriage the princess drove to the grand entrance of the palace. When she entered the ball-room, in her wondrous dress of moon-beams, she looked so lovely, so different from all the other guests, that everyone wondered who she was, and no one could tell where she had come from.
From the moment he saw her, the prince fell desperately in love with her, and all the evening he would dance with no one else but the beautiful stranger.
When the ball was over, the princess drove away in her carriage at full speed, for she wished to get home in time to change her ball dress into the bear’s skin, and the carriage into the wheel-barrow, before anyone discovered who she was.
The prince, putting spurs into his horse, rode after her, for he was determined not to let her out of his sight. But suddenly a thick mist arose and hid her from him. When he reached his home he could talk to his mother of nothing else but the beautiful stranger with whom he had danced so often, and with whom he was so much in love. And the bear beneath the table smiled to itself, and muttered: ‘I am the beautiful stranger; oh, how I have taken you in!’
The next evening there was a second ball, and, as you may believe, the prince was determined not to miss it, for he thought he would once more see the lovely girl, and dance with her and talk to her, and make her talk to him, for at the first ball she had never opened her lips.
And, sure enough, as the music struck up the first dance, the beautiful stranger entered the room, looking even more radiant than the night before, for this time her dress was woven out of the rays of the sun. All evening the prince danced with her, but she never spoke a word.
When the ball was over he tried once more to follow her carriage, that he might know whence she came, but suddenly a great waterspout fell from the sky, and the blinding sheets of rain hid her from his sight.
When he reached his home he told his mother that he had again seen the lovely girl, and that this time she had been even more beautiful than the night before. And again the bear smiled beneath the table, and muttered: ‘I have taken him in a second time, and he has no idea that I am the beautiful girl with whom he is so much in love.’
On the next evening, the prince returned to the palace for the third ball. And the princess went too, and this time she had changed her bear’s skin into a dress woven out of the star-light, studded all over with gems, and she looked so dazzling and so beautiful, that everyone wondered at her, and said that no one so beautiful had ever been seen before. And the prince danced with her, and, though he could not induce her to speak, he succeeded in slipping a ring on her finger.
When the ball was over, he followed her carriage, and rode at such a pace that for long he kept it in sight. Then suddenly a terrible wind arose between him and the carriage, and he could not overtake it.
When he reached his home he said to his mother, ‘I do not know what is to become of me; I think I shall go mad, I am so much in love with that girl, and I have no means of finding out who she is. I danced with her and I gave her a ring, and yet I do not know her name, nor where I am to find her.’
Then the bear laughed beneath the table and muttered to itself.
And the prince continued: ‘I am tired to death. Order some soup to be made for me, but I don’t want that bear to meddle with it. Every time I speak of my love the brute mutters and laughs, and seems to mock at me. I hate the sight of the creature!’
When the soup was ready, the bear brought it to the prince; but before handing it to him, she dropped into the plate the ring the prince had given her the night before at the ball. The prince began to eat his soup very slowly and languidly, for he was sad at heart, and all his thoughts were busy, wondering how and where he could see the lovely stranger again. Suddenly he noticed the ring at the bottom of the plate. In a moment he recognised it, and was dumb with surprise.
Then he saw the bear standing beside him, looking at him with gentle, beseeching eyes, and something in the eyes of the bear made him say: ‘Take off that skin, some mystery is hidden beneath it.’
And the bear’s skin dropped off, and the beautiful girl stood before him, in the dress woven out of the star-light, and he saw that she was the stranger with whom he had fallen so deeply in love. And now she appeared to him a thousand times more beautiful than ever, and he led her to his mother. And the princess told them her story, and how she had been kept shut up by her father in his palace, and how she had wearied of her imprisonment. And the prince’s mother loved her, and rejoiced that her son should have so good and beautiful a wife.
So they were married, and lived happily for many years, and reigned wisely over their kingdom.
The Sunchild
Once there was a woman who had no children, and this made her very unhappy. So she spoke one day to the Sunball, saying: ‘Dear Sunball, send me only a little girl now, and when she is twelve years old you may take her back again.’
So soon after this the Sunball sent her a little girl, whom the woman called Letiko, and watched over with great care till she was twelve years old. Soon after that, while Letiko was away one day gathering herbs, the Sunball came to her, and said: ‘Letiko, when you go home, tell your mother that she must bethink herself of what she promised me.’
Then Letiko went straight home, and said to her mother: ‘While I was gathering herbs a fine tall gentleman came to me and charged me to tell you that you should remember what you promised him.’
When the woman heard that she was sore afraid, and immediately shut all the doors and windows of the house, stopped up all the chinks and holes, and kept Letiko hidden away, that the Sunball should not come and take her away. But she forgot to close up the keyhole, and through it the Sunball sent a ray into the house, which took hold of the little girl and carried her away to him.
One day, the Sunball having sent her to the straw shed to fetch straw, the girl sat down on the piles of straw and bemoaned herself, saying: ‘As sighs this straw under my feet so sighs my heart after my mother.’
And this caused her to be so long away that the Sunball asked her, when she came back: ‘Eh, Letiko, where have you been so long?’
She answered: ‘My slippers are too big, and I could not go faster.’
Then the Sunball made the slippers shorter.
Another time he sent her to fetch water, and when she came to the spring, she sat down and lamented, saying: ‘As flows the water even so flows my heart with longing for my mother.’
Thus she again remained so long away that the Sunball asked her: ‘Eh, Letiko, why have you remained so long away?’
And she answered: ‘My petticoat is too long and hinders me in walking.’
Then the Sunball cut her petticoat to make it shorter.
Another time the Sunball sent her to bring him a pair of sandals, and as the girl carried these in her hand she began to lament, saying: ‘As creaks the leather so creaks my heart after my little mother.’
When she came home the Sunball asked her again: ‘Eh, Letiko, why do you come home so late?’
‘My red hood is too wide, and falls over my eyes, therefore I could not go fast.’
Then he made the hood narrower.
At last, however, the Sunball became aware how sad Letiko was. He sent her a second time to bring straw, and, slipping in after her, he heard how she lamented for her mother. Then he went home, called two foxes to him, and said: ‘Will you take Letiko home?’
‘Yes, why not?’
‘But what will you eat and drink if you should become hungry and thirsty by the way?’
‘We will eat her flesh and drink her blood.’
When the Sunball heard that, he said: ‘You are not suited for this affair.’
Then he sent them away, and called two hares to him, and said: ‘Will you take Letiko home to her mother?’
‘Yes, why not?’
‘What will you eat and drink if you should become hungry and thirsty by the way?’
‘We will eat grass and drink from streamlets.’
‘Then take her, and bring her home.’
Then the hares set out, taking Letiko with them, and because it was a long way to her home they became hungry by the way. Then they said to the little girl: ‘Climb this tree, dear Letiko, and remain there till we have finished eating.’
So Letiko climbed the tree, and the hares went grazing.
It was not very long, however, before a lamia came under the tree and called out: ‘Letiko, Letiko, come down and see what beautiful shoes I have on.’
‘Oh! my shoes are much finer than yours.’
‘Come down. I am in a hurry, for my house is not yet swept.’
‘Go home and sweep it then, and come back when you are ready.’
Then the lamia went away and swept her house, and when she was ready she came back and called out: ‘Letiko, Letiko, come down and see what a beautiful apron I have.’
‘Oh! my apron is much finer than yours.’
‘If you will not come down I will cut down the tree and eat you.’
‘Do so, and then eat me.’
Then the lamia hewed with all her strength at the tree, but could not cut it down. And when she saw that, she called out: ‘Letiko, Letiko, come down, for I must feed my children.’
‘Go home then and feed them, and come back when you are ready.’
When the lamia was gone away, Letiko called out: ‘Little hares! little hares!’
Then said one hare to the other: ‘Listen, Letiko is calling;’ and they both ran back to her as fast as they could go. Then Letiko came down from the tree, and they went on their way.
The lamia ran as fast as she could after them, to catch them up, and when she came to a field where people were working she asked them: ‘Have you seen anyone pass this way?’
They answered: ‘We are planting beans.’
‘Oh! I did not ask about that; but if anyone had passed this way.’
But the people only answered the louder: ‘Are you deaf? It is beans, beans, beans we are planting.’
When Letiko had nearly reached her home the dog knew her, and called out, ‘Bow wow! see here comes Letiko!’
And the mother said, ‘Hush! thou beast of ill-omen! wilt thou make me burst with misery?’
Next the cat on the roof saw her, and called out ‘Miaouw! miaouw! see here comes Letiko!’
And the mother said, ‘Keep silence! thou beast of ill-omen! wilt thou make me burst with misery?’
Then the cock spied, and called out: ‘Cock-a-doodle-do! see here comes Letiko!’
And the mother said again: ‘Be quiet! thou bird of ill-omen! wilt thou make me burst with misery?’
The nearer Letiko and the two hares came to the house the nearer also came the lamia, and when the hare was about to slip in by the house door she caught it by its little tail and tore it out.
When the hare came in the mother stood up and said to it: ‘Welcome, dear little hare; because you have brought me back Letiko I will silver your little tail.’
And she did so; and lived ever after with her daughter in happiness and content.
