THE ABODE OF THE GODS
ToC
- THE TWO BROTHERS
- TIME AND THE KINGS OF THE ELEMENTS
- THE TWELVE MONTHS
ToC
I
THE TWO BROTHERS
Once upon a
time there
were two brothers
whose father had left
them but a small
fortune. The eldest
grew very rich, but at
the same time cruel and
wicked, whereas there
was nowhere a more
honest or kinder man
than the younger. But
he remained poor,
and had many children,
so that at times
they could scarcely
get bread to eat. At
last, one day there
was not even this
in the house, so he
went to his rich
brother and asked
him for a loaf of bread. Waste of time! His rich brother
only called him beggar and vagabond, and slammed the door
in his face.
The poor fellow, after this brutal reception, did not know
which way to turn. Hungry, scantily clad, shivering with
cold, his legs could scarcely carry him along. He had not
the heart to go home, with nothing for the children, so he
went towards the mountain forest. But all he found there
were some wild pears that had fallen to the ground. He had
to content himself with eating these, though they set his
teeth on edge. But what was he to do to warm himself, for
the east wind with its chill blast pierced him through and
through. “Where shall I go?” he said; “what will become
of us in the cottage? There is neither food nor fire, and
my brother has driven me from his door.” It was just then
he remembered having heard that the top of the mountain in
front of him was made of crystal, and had a fire for ever
burning upon it. “I will try and find it,” he said, “and
then I may be able to warm myself a little.” So he went
on climbing higher and higher till he reached the top, when
he was startled to see twelve strange beings sitting round
a huge fire. He stopped for a moment, but then said to
himself, “What have I to lose? Why should I fear? God
is with me. Courage!”
So he advanced towards the fire, and bowing respectfully,
said: “Good people, take pity on my distress. I am very
poor, no one cares for me, I have not even a fire in my
cottage; will you let me warm myself at yours?” They all
looked kindly at him, and one of them said: “My son,
come sit down with us and warm yourself.”
So he sat down, and felt warm directly he was near
them. But he dared not speak while they were silent.
What astonished him most was that they changed seats
one after another, and in such a way that each one passed
round the fire and came back to his own place. When
he drew near the fire an old man with long white beard
and bald head arose from the flames and spoke to him
thus:
“Man, waste not thy life here; return to thy cottage,
work, and live honestly. Take as many embers as thou
wilt, we have more than we need.”
And having said this he disappeared. Then the twelve
filled a large sack with embers, and, putting it on the poor
man’s shoulders, advised him to hasten home.
Humbly thanking them, he set off. As he went he
wondered why the embers did not feel hot, and why they
should weigh no more than a sack of paper. He was
thankful that he should be able to have a fire, but imagine
his astonishment when on arriving home he found the sack
to contain as many gold pieces as there had been embers;
he almost went out of his mind with joy at the possession
of so much money. With all his heart he thanked those
who had been so ready to help him in his need.
He was now rich, and rejoiced to be able to provide for
his family. Being curious to find out how many gold pieces
there were, and not knowing how to count, he sent his
wife to his rich brother for the loan of a quart measure.
This time the brother was in a better temper, so he
lent what was asked of him, but said mockingly, “What can
such beggars as you have to measure?”
The wife replied, “Our neighbour owes us some wheat;
we want to be sure he returns us the right quantity.”
The rich brother was puzzled, and suspecting something
he, unknown to his sister-in-law, put some grease inside the
measure. The trick succeeded, for on getting it back he
found a piece of gold sticking to it. Filled with astonishment,
he could only suppose his brother had joined a band
of robbers: so he hurried to his brother’s cottage, and threatened
to bring him before the Justice of the Peace if he did
not confess where the gold came from. The poor man was
troubled, and, dreading to offend his brother, told the story
of his journey to the Crystal Mountain.
Now the elder brother had plenty of money for himself,
yet he was envious of the brother’s good fortune, and became
greatly displeased when he found that his brother
won every one’s esteem by the good use he made of his
wealth. At last he determined to visit the Crystal Mountain
himself.
“I may meet with as good luck as my brother,” said he
to himself.
Upon reaching the Crystal Mountain he found the twelve
seated round the fire as before, and thus addressed them:
“I beg of you, good people, to let me warm myself, for
it is bitterly cold, and I am poor and homeless.”
But one of them replied, “My son, the hour of thy birth
was favourable; thou art rich, but a miser; thou art wicked,
for thou hast dared to lie to us. Well dost thou deserve thy
punishment.”
Amazed and terrified he stood silent, not daring to speak.
Meanwhile the twelve changed places one after another, each
at last returning to his own seat. Then from the midst
of the flames arose the white-bearded old man and spoke
thus sternly to the rich man:
“Woe unto the wilful! Thy brother is virtuous, therefore
have I blessed him. As for thee, thou art wicked, and so
shalt not escape our vengeance.”
At these words the twelve arose. The first seized the
unfortunate man, struck him, and passed him on to the
second; the second also struck him and passed him on to the
third; and so did they all in their turn, until he was given up
to the old man, who disappeared with him into the fire.
Days, weeks, months went by, but the rich man never
returned, and none knew what had become of him. I think,
between you and me, the younger brother had his suspicions
but he very wisely kept them to himself.
II
TIME AND THE KINGS OF THE ELEMENTS
ToC
There was once a married pair who loved each other
tenderly. The husband would not have given up his
wife for all the riches in the world, while her first thought
was how best to please him. So they were very happy, and
lived like two grains in one ear of corn.
One day while working in the fields, a great longing came
over him to see her: so without waiting for the hour of sunset
he ran home. Alas! she was not there. He looked high
and low, he ran here, there, and everywhere, he wept, he
called to her; in vain! his dear wife was not to be found.
So heartbroken was he that he no longer cared to live.
He could think of nothing but the loss of his dear wife and
how to find her again. At last he determined to travel all
over the world in search of her. So he began to walk straight
on, trusting God to direct his steps. Sad and thoughtful,
he wandered for many days, until he reached a cottage close
by the shores of a large lake. Here he stopped, hoping to
find out news. On entering the cottage he was met by a
woman, who tried to prevent him entering.
“What do you want here, unlucky wretch?” said she.
“If my husband sees you, he will kill you instantly.”
“Who is your husband then?” asked the traveller.
“What! you do not know him? My husband is the
Water-King; everything under water obeys him. Depart
quickly, for if he finds you here he will certainly devour
you.”
“Perhaps after all he would take pity on me. But hide me
somewhere, for I am worn and weary, and without shelter
for the night.”
So the Water-Queen was persuaded, and hid him behind
the stove. Almost immediately after the Water-King entered.
He had barely crossed the threshold when he called out,
“Wife, I smell human flesh; give it me quickly, for I am
hungry.” She dared not disobey him, and so she had to tell
him of the traveller’s hiding-place. The poor man became
terribly frightened, and trembled in every limb, and began to
stammer out excuses.
“I assure you I have done no harm. I came here in
search of news of my poor wife. Oh, do help me to find
her; I cannot live without her.”
“Well,” replied the Water-King, “as you love your
wife so tenderly I will forgive you for coming here, but
I cannot help you to find her, for I do not know where
she is. Yet I remember seeing two ducks on the lake
yesterday, perchance she is one of them. But I should
advise you to ask my brother the Fire-King; he may be
able to tell you more.”
Happy to have escaped so easily, he thanked the Water-King
and set out to find the Fire-King. But the latter
was unable to help him, and could only advise him to
consult his other brother, the Air-King. But the Air-King,
though he had travelled all over the earth, could only say
he thought he had seen a woman at the foot of the Crystal
Mountain.
But the traveller was cheered at the news, and went to
seek his wife at the foot of the Crystal Mountain, which was
close to their cottage. On reaching it he began at once to
climb the mountain by making his way up the bed of the
torrent that came rushing down there. Several ducks that
were in the pools near the waterfall called out, “My good
man, don’t go up there; you’ll be killed.”
But he walked fearlessly on till he came to some thatched
cottages, at the largest of which he stopped. Here a crowd
of wizards and witches surrounded him, screaming at the
top of their voices, “What are you looking for?”
“My wife,” said he.
“She is here,” they cried, “but you cannot take her away
unless you recognise her among two hundred women all
exactly like her.”
“What! Not know my own wife? Why, here she is,”
said he, as he clasped her in his arms. And she, delighted
to be with him again, kissed him fondly. Then she
whispered:
“Dearest, though you knew me to-day I doubt whether
you will to-morrow, for there will be so many of us all alike.
Now I will tell you what to do. At nightfall go to the top
of the Crystal Mountain, where live the King of Time and
his court. Ask him how you may know me. If you are good
and honest he will help you; if not, he will devour you whole
at one mouthful.”
“I will do what you advise, dear one,” he replied, “but
tell me, why did you leave me so suddenly? If you only
knew what I have suffered! I have sought you all over the
world.”
“I did not leave you willingly,” said she. “A countryman
asked me to come and look at the mountain torrent.
When we got there he sprinkled some water over himself, and
at once I saw wings growing out of his shoulders, and he
soon changed his shape entirely into that of a drake; and I
too became a duck at the same time, and whether I would
or no I was obliged to follow him. Here I was allowed to
resume my own form; and now there is but the one difficulty
of being recognised by you.”
So they parted, she to join the other women, he to
continue his way to the Crystal Mountain. At the top he
found twelve strange beings sitting round a large fire: they
were the attendants of the King of Time. He saluted them
respectfully.
“What dost thou want?” said they.
“I have lost my dear wife. Can you tell me how to
recognise her among two hundred other women all exactly
alike?”
“No,” said they, “but perhaps our King can.”
Then arose from the midst of the flames an old man with
bald head and long white beard, who, on hearing his request,
replied: “Though all these women be exactly alike, thy wife
will have a black thread in the shoe of her right foot.”
So saying he vanished, and the traveller, thanking the
twelve, descended the mountain.
Sure it is that without the black thread he would never
have recognised her. And though the Magician tried to
hide her, the spell was broken; and the two returned rejoicing
to their home, where they lived happily ever after.
III
THE TWELVE MONTHS
ToC
There was once a widow who had two daughters, Helen,
her own child by her dead husband, and Marouckla,
his daughter by his first wife. She loved Helen, but hated
the poor orphan, because she was far prettier than her own
daughter. Marouckla did not think about her good looks,
and could not understand why her stepmother should be
angry at the sight of her. The hardest work fell to her share;
she cleaned out the rooms, cooked, washed, sewed, spun,
wove, brought in the hay, milked the cow, and all this without
any help. Helen, meanwhile, did nothing but dress
herself in her best clothes and go to one amusement after
another. But Marouckla never complained; she bore the
scoldings and bad temper of mother and sister with a smile
on her lips, and the patience of a lamb. But this angelic
behaviour did not soften them. They became even more
tyrannical and grumpy, for Marouckla grew daily more
beautiful, while Helen’s ugliness increased. So the stepmother
determined to get rid of Marouckla, for she knew that
while she remained her own daughter would have no suitors.
Hunger, every kind of privation, abuse, every means was used
to make the girl’s life miserable. The most wicked of men
could not have been more mercilessly cruel than these two
vixens. But in spite of it all Marouckla grew ever sweeter
and more charming.
One day in the middle of winter Helen wanted some
wood-violets.
“Listen,” cried she to Marouckla; “you must go up the
mountain and find me some violets, I want some to put in
my gown; they must be fresh and sweet-scented—do you
hear?”
“But, my dear sister, who ever heard of violets blooming
in the snow?” said the poor orphan.
“You wretched creature! Do you dare to disobey me?”
said Helen. “Not another word; off with you. If you do
not bring me some violets from the mountain forest, I will
kill you.”
The stepmother also added her threats to those of Helen,
and with vigorous blows they pushed Marouckla outside
and shut the door upon her. The weeping girl made her
way to the mountain. The snow lay deep, and there was no
trace of any human being. Long she wandered hither and
thither, and lost herself in the wood. She was hungry, and
shivered with cold, and prayed to die. Suddenly she saw a
light in the distance, and climbed towards it, till she reached
the top of the mountain. Upon the highest peak burnt a large
fire, surrounded by twelve blocks of stone, on which sat twelve
strange beings. Of these the first three had white hair, three
were not quite so old, three were young and handsome, and
the rest still younger.
There they all sate silently looking at the fire. They were
the twelve months of the year. The great Setchène (January)
was placed higher than the others; his hair and moustache
were white as snow, and in his hand he held a wand. At
first Marouckla was afraid, but after a while her courage
returned, and drawing near she said:
“Men of God, may I warm myself at your fire? I am
chilled by the winter cold.”
The great Setchène raised his head and answered:
“What brings thee here, my daughter? What dost thou
seek?”
“I am looking for violets,” replied the maiden.
“This is not the season for violets; dost thou not see
the snow everywhere?” said Setchène.
“I know well, but my sister Helen and my stepmother
have ordered me to bring them violets from your mountain:
if I return without them they will kill me. I pray you, good
shepherds, tell me where they may be found?”
Here the great Setchène arose and went over to the
youngest of the months, and placing his wand in his hand,
said:
“Brother Brezène (March), do thou take the highest
place.”
Brezène obeyed, at the same time waving his wand over
the fire. Immediately the flames rose towards the sky, the
snow began to melt and the trees and shrubs to bud; the
grass became green, and from between its blades peeped the
pale primrose. It was Spring, and the meadows were blue
with violets.
“Gather them quickly, Marouckla,” said Brezène.
Joyfully she hastened to pick the flowers, and having soon
a large bunch she thanked them and ran home. Helen and
the stepmother were amazed at the sight of the flowers, the
scent of which filled the house.
“Where did you find them?” asked Helen.
“Under the trees on the mountain slope,” said Marouckla.
Helen kept the flowers for herself and her mother; she
did not even thank her step-sister for the trouble she had
taken. The next day she desired Marouckla to fetch her
strawberries.
“Run,” said she, “and fetch me strawberries from the
mountain: they must be very sweet and ripe.”
“But who ever heard of strawberries ripening in the
snow?” exclaimed Marouckla.
“Hold your tongue, worm; don’t answer me; if I don’t
have my strawberries I will kill you.”
Then the stepmother pushed her into the yard and bolted
the door. The unhappy girl made her way towards the mountain
and to the large fire round which sat the twelve months.
The great Setchène occupied the highest place.
“Men of God, may I warm myself at your fire? The
winter cold chills me,” said she, drawing near.
The great Setchène raised his head and asked:
“Why comest thou here? What dost thou seek?”
“I am looking for strawberries,” said she.
“We are in the midst of winter,” replied Setchène; “strawberries
do not grow in the snow.”
“I know,” said the girl sadly, “but my sister and stepmother
have ordered me to bring them strawberries; if I do
not they will kill me. Pray, good shepherds, tell me where
to find them.”
The great Setchène arose, crossed over to the month
opposite him, and putting the wand into his hand, said:
“Brother Tchervène (June), do thou take the highest
place.”
Tchervène obeyed, and as he waved his wand over the
fire the flames leapt towards the sky. Instantly the snow
melted, the earth was covered with verdure, trees were clothed
with leaves, birds began to sing, and various flowers blossomed
in the forest. It was summer. Under the bushes masses of
star-shaped flowers changed into ripening strawberries. Before
Marouckla had time to cross herself they covered the
glade, making it look like a sea of blood.
“Gather them quickly, Marouckla,” said Tchervène.
Joyfully she thanked the months, and having filled her
apron ran happily home. Helen and her mother wondered
at seeing the strawberries, which filled the house with their
delicious fragrance.
“Wherever did you find them?” asked Helen crossly.
“Right up among the mountains; those from under the
beech trees are not bad.”
Helen gave a few to her mother and ate the rest herself;
not one did she offer to her step-sister. Being tired of strawberries,
on the third day she took a fancy for some fresh red
apples.
“Run, Marouckla,” said she, “and fetch me fresh red
apples from the mountain.”
“Apples in winter, sister? why, the trees have neither
leaves nor fruit.”
“Idle slut, go this minute,” said Helen; “unless you
bring back apples we will kill you.”
As before, the stepmother seized her roughly and turned
her out of the house. The poor girl went weeping up the
mountain, across the deep snow upon which lay no human
footprint, and on towards the fire round which were the twelve
months. Motionless sat they, and on the highest stone was
the great Setchène.
“Men of God, may I warm myself at your fire? The
winter cold chills me,” said she, drawing near.
The great Setchène raised his head.
“Why com’st thou here? What dost thou seek?” asked he.
“I am come to look for red apples,” replied Marouckla.
“But this is winter, and not the season for red apples,”
observed the great Setchène.
“I know,” answered the girl, “but my sister and stepmother
sent me to fetch red apples from the mountain; if I
return without them they will kill me.”
Thereupon the great Setchène arose and went over to one
of the elderly months, to whom he handed the wand, saying:
“Brother Zaré (September), do thou take the highest
place.”
Zaré moved to the highest stone and waved his wand over
the fire. There was a flare of red flames, the snow disappeared,
but the fading leaves which trembled on the trees
were sent by a cold north-east wind in yellow masses to the
glade. Only a few flowers of autumn were visible, such as
the fleabane and red gillyflower, autumn colchicums in the
ravine, and under the beeches bracken and tufts of northern
heather. At first Marouckla looked in vain for red apples.
Then she espied a tree which grew at a great height, and
from the branches of this hung the bright red fruit. Zaré
ordered her to gather some quickly. The girl was delighted
and shook the tree. First one apple fell, then another.
“That is enough,” said Zaré, “hurry home.”
Thanking the months, she returned joyfully. Helen marvelled
and the stepmother wondered at seeing the fruit.
“Where did you gather them?” asked the step-sister.
“There are more on the mountain top,” answered Marouckla.
“Then why did you not bring more?” said Helen angrily;
“you must have eaten them on your way back, you wicked
girl.”
“No, dear sister, I have not even tasted them,” said
Marouckla. “I shook the tree twice; one apple fell each
time. I was not allowed to shake it again, but was told to
return home.”
“May Perum smite you with his thunderbolt,” said Helen,
striking her.
Marouckla prayed to die rather than suffer such ill-treatment.
Weeping bitterly, she took refuge in the kitchen. Helen
and her mother found the apples more delicious than any
they had ever tasted, and when they had eaten both longed
for more.
“Listen, mother,” said Helen. “Give me my cloak; I will
fetch some more apples myself, or else that good-for-nothing
wretch will eat them all on the way. I shall be able to find
the mountain and the tree. The shepherds may cry ‘Stop,’
but I shall not leave go till I have shaken down all the
apples.”
In spite of her mother’s advice she put on her pelisse,
covered her head with a warm hood, and took the road to
the mountain. The mother stood and watched her till she
was lost in the distance.
Snow covered everything, not a human footprint was to
be seen on its surface. Helen lost herself and wandered
hither and thither. After a while she saw a light above
her, and following in its direction reached the mountain top.
There was the flaming fire, the twelve blocks of stone, and
the twelve months. At first she was frightened and hesitated;
then she came nearer and warmed her hands. She did not
ask permission, nor did she speak one polite word.
“What has brought thee here? What dost thou seek?”
said the great Setchène severely.
“I am not obliged to tell you, old greybeard; what business
is it of yours?” she replied disdainfully, turning her back on
the fire and going towards the forest.
The great Setchène frowned, and waved his wand over his
head. Instantly the sky became covered with clouds, the
fire went down, snow fell in large flakes, an icy wind howled
round the mountain. Amid the fury of the storm Helen
added curses against her step-sister. The pelisse failed to
warm her benumbed limbs. The mother kept on waiting
for her; she looked from the window, she watched from
the doorstep, but her daughter came not. The hours passed
slowly, but Helen did not return.
“Can it be that the apples have charmed her from her
home?” thought the mother. Then she clad herself in hood
and pelisse and went in search of her daughter. Snow fell
in huge masses; it covered all things, it lay untouched by
human footsteps. For long she wandered hither and thither;
the icy north-east wind whistled in the mountain, but no
voice answered her cries.
Day after day Marouckla worked and prayed, and waited;
but neither stepmother nor sister returned, they had been
frozen to death on the mountain. The inheritance of a
small house, a field, and a cow fell to Marouckla. In course
of time an honest farmer came to share them with her, and
their lives were happy and peaceful.
THE SUN
OR
THE THREE GOLDEN HAIRS OF THE OLD MAN VSÉVÈDE
ToC
THE SUN; OR, THE THREE GOLDEN HAIRS
OF THE OLD MAN VSÉVÈDE
Can this be a true story? It is said that once there was
a king who was exceedingly fond of hunting the wild
beasts in his forests. One day he followed a stag so far and
so long that he lost his way. Alone and overtaken by night,
he was glad to find himself near a small thatched cottage in
which lived a charcoal-burner.
“Will you kindly show me the way to the high-road?
You shall be handsomely rewarded.”
“I would willingly,” said the charcoal-burner, “but
God is going to send my wife a little child, and I cannot
leave her alone. Will you pass the night under our roof?
There is a truss of sweet hay in the loft where you may
rest, and to-morrow morning I will be your guide.”
The king accepted the invitation and went to bed in the
loft. Shortly after a son was born to the charcoal-burner’s
wife. But the king could not sleep. At midnight he heard
noises in the house, and looking through a crack in the flooring
he saw the charcoal-burner asleep, his wife almost in a faint,
and by the side of the newly-born babe three old women
dressed in white, each holding a lighted taper in her hand, and
all talking together. Now these were the three Soudiché or
Fates, you must know.
The first said, “On this boy I bestow the gift of confronting
great dangers.”
The second said, “I bestow the power of happily escaping
all these dangers, and of living to a good old age.”
The third said, “I bestow upon him for wife the princess
born at the selfsame hour as he, and daughter of the very
king sleeping above in the loft.”
At these words the lights went out and silence reigned
around.
Now the king was greatly troubled, and wondered exceedingly;
he felt as if he had received a sword-thrust in
the chest. He lay awake all night thinking how to prevent
the words of the Fates from coming true.
With the first glimmer of morning light the baby began
to cry. The charcoal-burner, on going over to it, found that
his wife was dead.
“Poor little orphan,” he said sadly, “what will become of
thee without a mother’s care?”
“Confide this child to me,” said the king, “I will look after
it. He shall be well provided for. You shall be given a sum
of money large enough to keep you without having to burn
charcoal.”
The poor man gladly agreed, and the king went away
promising to send some one for the child. The queen and
courtiers thought it would be an agreeable surprise for the
king to hear that a charming little princess had been born
on the night he was away. But instead of being pleased he
frowned, and calling one of his servants, said to him, “Go
to the charcoal-burner’s cottage in the forest, and give the
man this purse in exchange for a new-born infant. On
your way back drown the child. See well that he is drowned,
for if he should in any way escape, you yourself shall suffer
in his place.”
The servant was given the child in a basket, and on
reaching the centre of a narrow bridge that stretched across
a wide and deep river, he threw both basket and baby into
the water.
“A prosperous journey to you, Mr. Son-in-Law,” said the
king, on hearing the servant’s story: for he fully believed
the child was drowned. But it was far from being the case;
the little one was floating happily along in its basket cradle,
and slumbering as sweetly as if his mother had sung him
to sleep. Now it happened that a fisherman, who was mending
his nets before his cottage door, saw the basket floating
down the river. He jumped at once into his boat, picked
it up, and ran to tell his wife the good news.
“Look,” said he, “you have always longed for a son;
here is a beautiful little boy the river has sent us.”
The woman was delighted, and took the infant and loved
it as her own child. They named him Plavacek (the floater),
because he had come to them floating on the water.
The river flowed on. Years passed away. The little
baby grew into a handsome youth; in all the villages round
there were none to compare with him. Now it happened
that one summer day the king was riding unattended. And
the heat being very great he reined in his horse before the
fisherman’s door to ask for a drink of water. Plavacek
brought the water. The king looked at him attentively, then
turning to the fisherman, said, “That is a good-looking lad;
is he your son?”
“He is and he isn’t,” replied the fisherman. “I found
him, when he was quite a tiny baby, floating down the stream
in a basket. So we adopted him and brought him up as
our own son.”
The king turned as pale as death, for he guessed that he
was the same child he had ordered to be drowned. Then
recovering himself he got down from his horse and said: “I
want a trusty messenger to take a letter to the palace, could
you send him with it?”
“With pleasure! Your majesty may be sure of its safe
delivery.”
Thereupon the king wrote to the queen as follows—
“The man who brings you this letter is the most dangerous
of all my enemies. Have his head cut off at once;
no delay, no pity, he must be executed before my return.
Such is my will and pleasure.”
This he carefully folded and sealed with the royal seal.
Plavacek took the letter and set off immediately. But
the forest through which he had to pass was so large, and
the trees so thick, that he missed the path and was overtaken
by the darkness before the journey was nearly over.
In the midst of his trouble he met an old woman who
said, “Where are you going, Plavacek? Where are you
going?”
“I am the bearer of a letter from the king to the queen,
but have missed the path to the palace. Could you, good
mother, put me on the right road?”
“Impossible to-day, my child; it is getting dark, and you
would not have time to get there. Stay with me to-night.
You will not be with strangers, for I am your godmother.”
Plavacek agreed. Thereupon they entered a pretty little
cottage that seemed suddenly to sink into the earth. Now
while he slept the old woman changed his letter for another,
which ran thus:—
“Immediately upon the receipt of this letter introduce
the bearer to the princess our daughter. I have chosen this
young man for my son-in-law, and it is my wish they should
be married before my return to the palace. Such is my
pleasure.”
The letter was duly delivered, and when the queen had
read it, she ordered everything to be prepared for the wedding.
Both she and her daughter greatly enjoyed Plavacek’s
society, and nothing disturbed the happiness of the newly
married pair.
Within a few days the king returned, and on hearing what
had taken place was very angry with the queen.
“But you expressly bade me have the wedding before
your return. Come, read your letter again, here it is,”
said she.
He closely examined the letter; the paper, handwriting,
seal—all were undoubtedly his. He then called his son-in-law,
and questioned him about his journey. Plavacek hid
nothing: he told how he had lost his way, and how he had
passed the night in a cottage in the forest.
“What was the old woman like?” asked the king.
From Plavacek’s description the king knew it was the
very same who, twenty years before, had foretold the marriage
of the princess with the charcoal-burner’s son. After some
moments’ thought the king said, “What is done is done.
But you will not become my son-in-law so easily. No, i’ faith!
As a wedding present you must bring me three golden hairs
from the head of Dède-Vsévède.”
In this way he thought to get rid of his son-in-law, whose
very presence was distasteful to him. The young fellow took
leave of his wife and set off. “I know not which way to go,”
said he to himself, “but my godmother the witch will surely
help me.”
But he found the way easily enough. He walked on and
on and on for a long time over mountain, valley, and river,
until he reached the shores of the Black Sea. There he
found a boat and boatman.
“May God bless you, old boatman,” said he.
“And you, too, my young traveller. Where are you
going?”
“To Dède-Vsévède’s castle for three of his golden
hairs.”
“Ah, then you are very welcome. For a long weary while
I have been waiting for such a messenger as you. I have
been ferrying passengers across for these twenty years, and
not one of them has done anything to help me. If you will
promise to ask Dède-Vsévède when I shall be released from
my toil I will row you across.”
Plavacek promised, and was rowed to the opposite bank.
He continued his journey on foot until he came in sight of
a large town half in ruins, near which was passing a funeral
procession. The king of that country was following his father’s
coffin, and with the tears running down his cheeks.
“May God comfort you in your distress,” said Plavacek.
“Thank you, good traveller. Where are you going?”
“To the house of Dède-Vsévède in quest of three of his
golden hairs.”
“To the house of Dède-Vsévède? indeed! What a pity
you did not come sooner, we have long been expecting such
a messenger as you. Come and see me by and bye.”
When Plavacek presented himself at court the king said
to him:
“We understand you are on your way to the house of
Dède-Vsévède? Now we have an apple-tree here that bears
the fruit of everlasting youth. One of these apples eaten by
a man, even though he be dying, will cure him and make
him young again. For the last twenty years neither fruit
nor flower has been found on this tree. Will you ask Dède-Vsévède
the cause of it?”
“That I will, with pleasure.”
Then Plavacek continued his journey, and as he went
he came to a large and beautiful city where all was sad and
silent. Near the gate was an old man who leant on a stick
and walked with difficulty.
“May God bless you, good old man.”
“And you, too, my handsome young traveller. Where
are you going?”
“To Dède-Vsévède’s palace in search of three of his
golden hairs.”
“Ah, you are the very messenger I have so long waited
for. Allow me to take you to my master the king.”
On their arrival at the palace, the king said, “I hear you
are an ambassador to Dède-Vsévède. We have here a well,
the water of which renews itself. So wonderful are its effects
that invalids are immediately cured on drinking it, while a
few drops sprinkled on a corpse will bring it to life again.
For the past twenty years this well has remained dry: if
you will ask old Dède-Vsévède how the flow of water may
be restored I will reward you royally.”
Plavacek promised to do so, and was dismissed with good
wishes. He then travelled through deep dark forests, in
the midst of which might be seen a large meadow; out of
it grew lovely flowers, and in the centre stood a castle built
of gold. It was the home of Dède-Vsévède. So brilliant
with light was it that it seemed to be built of fire. When
he entered there was no one there but an old woman
spinning.
“Greeting, Plavacek, I am well pleased to see you.”
She was his godmother, who had given him shelter in
her cottage when he was the bearer of the king’s letter.
“Tell me what brings you here from such a distance,”
she went on.
“The king would not have me for his son-in-law, unless
I first got him three golden hairs from the head of Dède-Vsévède.
So he sent me here to fetch them.”
The Fate laughed. “Dède-Vsévède indeed! Why, I am
his mother, it is the shining sun himself. He is a child at
morning time, a grown man at midday, a decrepit old man,
looking as if he had lived a hundred years, at eventide.
But I will see that you have the three hairs from his head;
I am not your godmother for nothing. All the same you
must not remain here. My son is a good lad, but when
he comes home he is hungry, and would very probably order
you to be roasted for his supper. Now I will turn this empty
bucket upside down, and you shall hide underneath it.”
Plavacek begged the Fate to obtain from Dède-Vsévède
the answers to the three questions he had been asked.
“I will do so certainly, but you must listen to what he
says.”
Suddenly a blast of wind howled round the palace, and
the Sun entered by a western window. He was an old man
with golden hair.
“I smell human flesh,” cried he, “I am sure of it.
Mother, you have some one here.”
“Star of day,” she replied, “whom could I have here that
you would not see sooner than I? The fact is that in your
daily journeys the scent of human flesh is always with you,
so when you come home at evening it clings to you still.”
The old man said nothing, and sat down to supper.
When he had finished he laid his golden head on the Fate’s
lap and went to sleep. Then she pulled out a hair and threw
it on the ground. It fell with a metallic sound like the
vibration of a guitar string.
“What do you want, mother?” asked he.
“Nothing, my son; I was sleeping, and had a strange
dream.”
“What was it, mother?”
“I thought I was in a place where there was a well, and
the well was fed from a spring, the water of which cured
all diseases. Even the dying were restored to health on
drinking that water, and the dead who were sprinkled with
it came to life again. For the last twenty years the well
has run dry. What must be done to restore the flow of
water?”
“That is very simple. A frog has lodged itself in the
opening of the spring, this prevents the flow of water. Kill
the frog, and the water will return to the well.”
He slept again, and the old woman pulled out another
golden hair, and threw it on the ground.
“Mother, what do you want?”
“Nothing, my son, nothing; I was dreaming. In my
dream I saw a large town, the name of which I have forgotten.
And there grew an apple-tree the fruit of which
had the power to make the old young again. A single apple
eaten by an old man would restore to him the vigour and
freshness of youth. For twenty years this tree has not borne
fruit. What can be done to make it fruitful?”
“The means are not difficult. A snake hidden among
the roots destroys the sap. Kill the snake, transplant the
tree, and the fruit will grow as before.”
He again fell asleep, and the old woman pulled out another
golden hair.
“Now look here, mother, why will you not let me sleep?”
said the old man, really vexed; and he would have got up.
“Lie down, my darling son, do not disturb yourself. I
am sorry I awoke you, but I have had a very strange dream.
It seemed that I saw a boatman on the shores of the Black
Sea, and he complained that he had been toiling at the ferry
for twenty years without any one having come to take his
place. For how much longer must this poor old man continue
to row?”
“He is a silly fellow. He has but to place his oars in
the hands of the first comer and jump ashore. Whoever
receives the oars will replace him as ferryman. But leave me
in peace now, mother, and do not wake me again. I have
to rise very early, and must first dry the eyes of a princess.
The poor thing spends all night weeping for her husband who
has been sent by the king to get three of my golden hairs.”
Next morning the wind whistled round Dède-Vsévède’s
palace, and instead of an old man, a beautiful child with
golden hair awoke on the old woman’s lap. It was the
glorious sun. He bade her good-bye, and flew out of the
eastern window. The old woman turned up the bucket and
said to Plavacek, “Look, here are the three golden hairs.
You now know the answers to your questions. May God
direct you and send you a prosperous journey. You will
not see me again, for you will have no further need of me.”
He thanked her gratefully and left her. On arriving at
the town with the dried-up well, he was questioned by the
king as to what news he had brought.
“Have the well carefully cleaned out,” said he, “kill the
frog that obstructs the spring, and the wonderful water will
flow again.”
The king did as he was advised, and rejoiced to see the
water return. He gave Plavacek twelve swan-white horses,
and as much gold and silver as they could carry.
On reaching the second town and being asked by the
king what news he had brought, he replied, “Excellent; one
could not wish for better. Dig up your apple-tree, kill the
snake that lies among the roots, transplant the tree, and it
will produce apples like those of former times.”
And all turned out as he had said, for no sooner was the
tree replanted than it was covered with blossoms that gave
it the appearance of a sea of roses. The delighted king
gave him twelve raven-black horses, laden with as much wealth
as they could carry. He then journeyed to the shores of
the Black Sea. There the boatman questioned him as to
what news he had brought respecting his release. Plavacek
first crossed with his twenty-four horses to the opposite bank,
and then replied that the boatman might gain his freedom
by placing the oars in the hands of the first traveller who
wished to be ferried over.
Plavacek’s royal father-in-law could not believe his eyes
when he saw Dède-Vsévède’s three golden hairs. As for
the princess, his young wife, she wept tears, but of joy, not
sadness, to see her dear one again, and she said to him,
“How did you get such splendid horses and so much wealth,
dear husband?”
And he answered her, “All this represents the price paid
for the weariness of spirit I have felt; it is the ready money
for hardships endured and services given. Thus, I showed
one king how to regain possession of the Apples of Youth:
to another I told the secret of reopening the spring of water
that gives health and life.”
“Apples of Youth! Water of Life!” interrupted the king.
“I will certainly go and find these treasures for myself. Ah,
what joy! having eaten of these apples I shall become young
again; having drunk of the Water of Immortality, I shall live
for ever.”
And he started off in search of these treasures. But he
has not yet returned from his search.