Favorite Folktales From Around the World

by Jane Yolen

  Long Arrow descended this slope until he came to a small flat valley. In the middle of it stood a large tipi of tanned buffalo hide. The images of two strange animals were drawn on it in sacred vermilion paint. A kingfisher perched high on the top of the tipi flew down and turned again into the beautiful boy, who said, “Welcome. Enter my grandfather’s lodge.”

  Long Arrow followed the spirit boy inside. In the back at the seat of honor sat a black-robed old man with flowing white hair and such power emanating from him that Long Arrow felt himself in the presence of a truly Great One. The holy man welcomed Long Arrow and offered him food. The man’s wife came in bringing dishes of buffalo hump, liver, tongues, delicious chunks of deer meat, the roasted flesh of strange, tasty water birds, and meat pounded together with berries, chokecherries, and kidney fat. Famished after his long journey, Long Arrow ate with relish. Yet he still looked around to admire the furnishings of the tipi, the painted inner curtain, the many medicine shields, wonderfully wrought weapons, shirts and robes decorated with porcupine quills in rainbow colors, beautifully painted rawhide containers filled with wonderful things, and much else that dazzled him.

  After Long Arrow had stilled his hunger, the old spirit chief filled the pipe and passed it to his guest. They smoked, praying silently. After a while the old man said, “Some came before you from time to time, but they were always afraid of the deep water, and so they went away with empty hands. But you, grandson, were brave enough to plunge in, and therefore you are chosen to receive a wonderful gift to carry back to your people. Now, go outside with my grandson.”

  The beautiful boy took Long Arrow to a meadow on which some strange animals, unlike any the young man had ever seen, were galloping and gamboling, neighing and nickering. They were truly wonderful to look at, with their glossy coats fine as a maiden’s hair, their long manes and tails streaming in the wind. Now rearing, now nuzzling, they looked at Long Arrow with gentle eyes which belied their fiery appearance.

  “At last,” thought Long Arrow, “here they are before my own eyes, the Pono-Kamita, the Elk Dogs!”

  “Watch me,” said the mystery boy, “so that you learn to do what I am doing.” Gracefully and without effort, the boy swung himself onto the back of a jet-black Elk Dog with a high, arched neck. Larger than any elk Long Arrow had ever come across, the animal carried the boy all over the meadow swiftly as the wind. Then the boy returned, jumped off his mount, and said, “Now you try it.” A little timidly Long Arrow climbed up on the beautiful Elk Dog’s back. Seemingly regarding him as feather-light, it took off like a flying arrow. The young man felt himself soaring through the air as a bird does, and experienced a happiness greater even than the joy he had felt when Good Running had adopted him as a grandson.

  When they had, finished riding the Elk Dogs, the spirit boy said to Long Arrow, “Young hunter from the land above the waters, I want you to have what you have come for. Listen to me. You may have noticed that my grandfather wears a black medicine robe as long as a woman’s dress, and that he is always trying to hide his feet. Try to get a glimpse of them, for if you do, he can refuse you nothing. He will then tell you to ask him for a gift, and you must ask for these three things: his rainbow-colored quilled belt, his black medicine robe, and a herd of these animals which you seem to like.”

  Long Arrow thanked him and vowed to follow his advice. For four days the young man stayed in the spirit chief’s lodge, where he ate well and often went out riding on the Elk Dogs. But try as he would, he could never get a look at the old man’s feet. The spirit chief always kept them carefully covered. Then on the morning of the fourth day, the old one was walking out of the tipi when his medicine robe caught in the entrance flap. As the robe opened, Long Arrow caught a glimpse of a leg and one foot. He was awed to see that it was not a human limb at all, but the glossy leg and firm hoof of an Elk Dog! He could not stifle a cry of surprise, and the old man looked over his shoulder and saw that his leg and hoof were exposed. The chief seemed a little embarrassed, but shrugged and said, “I tried to hide this, but you must have been fated to see it. Look, both of my feet are those of an Elk Dog. You may as well ask me for a gift. Don’t be timid; tell me what you want.”

  Long Arrow spoke boldly: “I want three things: your belt of rainbow colors, you black medicine robe, and your herd of Elk Dogs.”

  “Well, so you’re really not timid at all!” said the old man. “You ask for a lot, and I’ll give it to you, except that you cannot have all my Elk Dogs; I’ll give you half of them. Now I must tell you that my black medicine robe and my many-colored belt have Elk Dog magic in them. Always wear the robe when you try to catch Elk Dogs; then they can’t get away from you. On quiet nights, if you listen closely to the belt, you will hear the Elk Dog dance song and Elk Dog prayers. You must learn them. And I will give you one more magic gift: this long rope woven from the hair of a white buffalo bull. With it you will never fail to catch whichever Elk Dog you want.”

  The spirit chief presented him with the gifts and said, “Now you must leave. At first the Elk Dogs will not follow you. Keep the medicine robe and the magic belt on at all times, and walk for four days toward the north. Never look back—always look to the north. On the fourth day the Elk Dogs will come up beside you on the left. Still don’t look back. But after they have overtaken you, catch one with the rope of white buffalo hair and ride him home. Don’t lose the black robe, or you will lose the Elk Dogs and never catch them again.”

  Long Arrow listened carefully so that he would remember. Then the old spirit chief had his wife make up a big pack of food, almost too heavy for Long Arrow to carry, and the young man took leave of his generous spirit host. The mysterious boy once again turned himself into a kingfisher and led Long Arrow to the surface of the lake, where his faithful dog greeted him joyfully. Long Arrow fed the dog, put his pack of food on the travois, and started walking north.

  On the fourth day the Elk Dogs came up on his left side, as the spirit chief had foretold. Long Arrow snared the black one with the arched neck to ride, and he caught another to carry the pack of food. They galloped swiftly on, the dog barking at the big Elk Dogs’ heels.

  When Long Arrow arrived at last in his village, the people were afraid and hid. They did not recognize him astride his beautiful Elk Dog but took him for a monster, half man and half animal. Long Arrow kept calling, “Grandfather Good Running, it’s your grandson. I’ve come back bringing Elk Dogs!”

  Recognizing the voice, Good Running came out of hiding and wept for joy, because he had given Long Arrow up for lost. Then all the others emerged from their hiding places to admire the wonderful new animals.

  Long Arrow said, “My grandfather and grandmother who adopted me, I can never repay you for your kindness. Accept these wonderful Elk Dogs as my gift. Now we no longer need to be humble footsloggers, because these animals will carry us swiftly everywhere we want to go. Now buffalo hunting will be easy. Now our tipis will be larger, our possessions will be greater, because an Elk Dog travois can carry a load ten times bigger than that of a dog. Take them, my grandparents. I shall keep for myself only this black male and this black female, which will grow into a fine herd.”

  “You have indeed done something great, grandson,” said Good Running, and he spoke true. The people became the bold riders of the Plains and soon could hardly imagine how they had existed without these wonderful animals.

  After some time Good Running, rich and honored by all, said to Long Arrow, “Grandson, lead us to the Great Mystery Lake so we can camp by its shores. Let’s visit the spirt chief and the wondrous boy; maybe they will give us more of their power and magic gifts.”

  Long Arrow led the people southward and again found the Great Mystery Lake. But the waters would no longer part for him, nor would any of the kingfishers they saw turn into a boy. Nor, gazing down into the crystal-clear water, could they discover people, Elk Dogs, or a tipi. There was nothing in the lake but a few fish.

  MOLLY WHUPPIE

&nbs
p; England

  Once upon a time there was a man and a wife had too many children, and they could not get meat for them, so they took the three youngest and left them in a wood. They traveled and traveled and could see never a house. It began to be dark, and they were hungry. At last they saw a light and made for it; it turned out to be a house. They knocked at the door, and a woman came to it, who said, “What do you want?”

  They said, “Please let us in and give us something to eat.”

  The woman said, “I can’t do that, as my man is a giant, and he would kill you if he comes home.”

  They begged hard. “Let us stop for a little while,” said they, “and we will go away before he comes.” So she took them in, and set them down before the fire, and gave them milk and bread; but just as they had begun to eat, a great knock came to the door, and a dreadful voice said:

  Fee, fie, Jo, fum,

  I smell the blood of some earthly one.

  “Who have you there, wife?”

  “Eh,” said the wife, “it’s three poor lassies cold and hungry, and they will go away. Ye won’t touch ’em, man.”

  He said nothing, but ate up a big supper, and ordered them to stay all night.

  Now he had three lassies of his own, and they were to sleep in the same bed with the three strangers. The youngest of the three strange lassies was called Molly Whuppie, and she was very clever. She noticed that before they went to bed the giant put straw ropes round her neck and her sisters’, and round his own lassies’ necks, he put gold chains. So Molly took care and did not fall asleep, but waited till she was sure everyone was sleeping sound. Then she slipped out of the bed, and took the straw ropes off her own and her sisters’ necks, and took the gold chains off the giant’s lassies. She then put the straw ropes on the giant’s lassies and the gold on herself and her sisters, and lay down. And in the middle of the night up rose the giant, armed with a great club, and felt for the necks with the straw. It was dark. He took his own lassies out of bed on to the floor, and battered them until they were dead, and then lay down again, thinking he had managed finely.

  Molly thought it time she and her sisters were off and away, so she wakened them and told them to be quiet, and they slipped out of the house. They all got out safe, and they ran and ran, and never stopped until morning, when they saw a grand house before them. It turned out to be a king’s house: so Molly went in, and told her story to the king.

  He said, “Well, Molly, you are a clever girl, and you have managed well, but, if you would manage better, and go back and steal the giant’s sword that hangs on the back of his bed, I would give your eldest sister my eldest son to marry.”

  Molly said she would try. So she went back, and managed to slip into the giant’s house, and crept in below the bed. The giant came home, and ate up a great supper, and went to bed. Molly waited until he was snoring, and she crept out, and reached over the giant and got down the sword; but just as she got it out over the bed it gave a rattle, and up jumped the giant, and Molly ran out at the door and the sword with her; and she ran, and he ran, till they came to the “Bridge of one hair,” and she got over, but he couldn’t, and he says, “Woe worth ye, Molly Whuppie! never ye come again.”

  And she says, “Twice yet, carle,” quoth she, “I’ll come to Spain.” So Molly took the sword to the king, and her sister was married to his son.

  Well, the king he says, “Ye’ve managed well, Molly, but if ye would manage better, and steal the purse that lies below the giant’s pillow, I would marry your second sister to my second son.”

  And Molly said she would try. So she set out for the giant’s house, and slipped in, and hid again below the bed, and waited till the giant had eaten his supper, and was snoring sound asleep. She slipped out and slipped her hand below the pillow, and got out the purse; but just as she was going out the giant awakened, and ran after her; and she ran, and he ran, till they came to the “Bridge of one hair,” and she got over, but he couldn’t, and he said, “Woe worth ye, Molly Whuppie! never you come again.”

  “Once yet, carle,” quoth she, “I’ll come to Spain.” So Molly took the purse to the king, and her second sister was married to the king’s second son.

  After that the king says to Molly, “Molly, you are a clever girl, but if you would do better yet, and steal the giant’s ring that he wears on his finger, I will give you my youngest son for yourself.”

  Molly said she would try. So back she goes to the giant’s house, and hides herself below the bed. The giant wasn’t long ere he came home, and, after he had eaten a great big supper, he went to his bed, and shortly was snoring loud. Molly crept out and reached over the bed, and got hold of the giant’s hand, and she pulled and she pulled until she got off the ring; but just as she got it off the giant got up, and gripped her by the hand and he says, “Now I have caught you, Molly Whuppie, and, if I had done as much ill to you as ye have done to me, what would ye do to me?”

  Molly says, “I would put you into a sack, and I’d put the cat inside wi’ you, and the dog aside you, and a needle and thread and a shears, and I’d hang you up upon the wall, and I’d go to the wood, and choose the thickest stick I could get, and I would come home, and take you down, and bang you till you were dead.”

  “Well, Molly,” says the giant, “I’ll just do that to you.”

  So he gets a sack, and puts Molly into it, and the cat and the dog beside her, and needle and thread and shears, and hangs her upon the wall, and goes to the wood to choose a stick.

  Molly she sings out, “Oh, if ye saw what I see.”

  “Oh,” says the giant’s wife, “what do ye see, Molly?”

  But Molly never said a word but, “Oh, if ye saw what I see!”

  The giant’s wife begged that Molly would take her up into the sack till she would see what Molly saw. So Molly took the shears and cut a hole in the sack, and took out the needle and thread with her, and jumped down and helped the giant’s wife up into the sack, and sewed up the hole.

  The giant’s wife saw nothing, and began to ask to get down again; but Molly never minded, but hid herself at the back of the door. Home came the giant, and a great big tree in his hand, and he took down the sack, and began to batter it.

  His wife cried, “It’s me, man,” but the dog barked and the cat mewed, and he did not know his wife’s voice.

  But Molly came out from the back of the door, and the giant saw her and he after her; and he ran, and she ran, till they came to the “Bridge of one hair,” and she got over but he couldn’t; and he said, “Woe worth you, Molly Whuppie! never you come again.”

  “Never more, carle,” quoth she, “will I come again to Spain.”

  So Molly took the ring to the king, and she was married to his youngest son, and she never saw the giant again.

  THE BEGINNING OF THE NARRAN LAKE

  Australia (Aboriginal)

  Old Baiame said to his two young wives, Birra-nulu and Kunnan-beili, “I have stuck a white feather between the hind legs of a bee, and am going to let it go and then follow it to its nest, that I may get honey. While I go for the honey, go you two out and get frogs and yams, then meet me at Coorigil Spring, where we will camp, for sweet and clear is the water there.”

  The wives, taking their goolays, or net bags, and yam sticks, went out as he told them. Having gone far, and dug out many yams and frogs, they were tired when they reached Coorigil, and seeing the cool, fresh water they longed to bathe. But first they built a bough shade, and there left the goolays holding their food, and the yams and frogs they had found.

  When their camp was ready for the coming of Baiame, who having wooed his wives with a nulla-nulla kept them obedient by fear of the same weapon, then went the girls to the spring to bathe. Gladly they plunged in, having first divested themselves of their goomillas, or string belts, which they were still young enough to wear, and which they left on the ground near the spring.

  Scarcely were they enjoying the cool rest the water gave their hot, tired limbs, when
they were seized and swallowed by two Kurrias, or crocodiles.

  Having swallowed the girls the Kurrias dived into an opening in the side of the spring, which was the entrance to an underground watercourse leading to the Narran River. Through this passage they went, taking all the water from the spring with them into the Narran, whose course they also dried as they went along.

  Meantime Baiame, unwitting the fate of his wives, was honey hunting. He had followed the bee with the white feather on it for some distance; then the bee flew on to some boodha, or saltbush flowers, and would move no farther.

  Baiame said, “Something has happened, or the bee would not stay here and refuse to be moved on towards its nest. I must go to Coorigil Spring and see if my wives are safe. Something terrible has surely happened.”

  And Baiame turned in haste towards the spring.

  When he reached there he saw the bough shed his wives had made, he saw the yams they had dug from the ground, and he saw the frogs, but Birra-nulu and Kunnan-beili he saw not.

  He called aloud for them. But no answer. He went towards the spring; on the edge of it he saw the goomillas of his wives. He looked into the spring and, seeing it dry, he said, “It is the work of the Kurrias; they have opened the underground passage and gone with my wives to the river, and opening the passage has dried the spring. Well do I know where the passage joins the Narran, and there will I swiftly go.”

  Arming himself with spears and woggaras, he started in pursuit.

  He soon reached the deep hole where the underground channel of the Coorigil joined the Narran. There he saw what he had never seen before, namely, this deep hole gone dry. And he said, “They have emptied the holes as they went along, taking the water with them. But well know I the deep holes of the river. I will not follow the bend, thus trebling the distance I have to go, but I will cut across from big hole to big hole, and by so doing I may yet get ahead of the Kurrias.”