Favorite Folktales From Around the World

by Jane Yolen

  The king, however, seized her hand, and said, “I am not a merchant. I am a king, and of no meaner origin than you are, and if I have carried you away with subtlety, that has come to pass because of my exceeding great love for you. The first time that I looked on your portrait, I fell fainting to the ground.” When the princess of the Golden Dwelling heard this, she was comforted, and her heart was drawn to him, so that she willingly consented to be his wife.

  It so happened, while they were sailing onwards over the deep sea, that Faithful John, who was sitting on the fore part of the vessel, making music, saw three ravens in the air, which came flying towards them. At this he stopped playing and listened to what they were saying to each other, for that he well understood. One cried, “Oh, there he is carrying home the princess of the Golden Dwelling.”

  “Yes,” replied the second, “but he has not got her yet.”

  Said the third, “But he has got her. She is sitting beside him in the ship.”

  Then the first began again, and cried, “What good will that do him? When they reach land a chestnut horse will leap forward to meet him, and the prince will want to mount it, but if he does that, it will run away with him, and rise up into the air, and he will never see his maiden more.”

  Spoke the second, “But is there no escape?”

  “Oh, yes, if someone else mounts it swiftly, and takes out the pistol which he will find in its holster and shoots the horse dead, the young king is saved. But who knows that? And whosoever does know it, and tells it to him, will be turned to stone from the toe to the knee.”

  Then said the second, “I know more than that: even if the horse be killed, the young king will still not keep his bride. When they go into the castle together, a wrought bridal garment will be lying there in the dish, and looking as if it were woven of gold and silver. It is, however, nothing but sulphur and pitch, and if he put it on, it will burn him to the very bone and marrow.”

  Said the third, “Is there no escape at all?”

  “Oh, yes, replied the second, “if anyone with gloves on seizes the garment and throws it into the fire and burns it, the young king will be saved. But what good will that do? Whosoever knows it and tells it to him, half his body will become stone from the knee to the heart.”

  Then said the third, “I know still more: even if the bridal garment be burned, the young king will still not have his bride. After the wedding, when the dancing begins and the young queen is dancing, she will suddenly turn pale and fall down as if dead, and if someone does not lift her up and draw three drops of blood from her right breast and spit them out again, she will die. But if anyone who knows that were to declare it, he would become stone from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot.”

  When the ravens had spoken of this together, they flew onwards, and Faithful John had well understood everything, but from that time forth he became quiet and sad, for if he concealed what he had heard from his master, the latter would be unfortunate, and if he disclosed it to him, he himself must sacrifice his life. At length, however, he said to himself, “I will save my master, even if it bring destruction on myself.”

  When therefore they came to shore, all happened as had been foretold by the ravens, and a magnificent chestnut horse sprang forward. “Good,” said the king, “he shall carry me to my palace,” and was about to mount it when Faithful John got before him, jumped quickly on it, drew the pistol out of the holster, and shot the horse. Then the other attendants of the king, who were not very fond of Faithful John, cried, “How shameful to kill the beautiful animal, that was to have carried the king to the palace!”

  But the king said, “Hold your peace and leave him alone, he is my most faithful John. Who knows what good may come of this!”

  They went into the palace, and in the hall there stood a dish, and therein lay the bridal garment looking no otherwise than as if it were made of gold and silver. The young king went towards it and was about to take hold of it, but Faithful John pushed him away, seized it with gloves on, carried it quickly to the fire, and burned it. The other attendants again began to murmur, and said, “Behold, now he is even burning the king’s bridal garment!”

  But the young king said, “Who knows what good he may have done, leave him alone, he is my most faithful John.”

  And now the wedding was solemnized: the dance began, and the bride also took part in it. Faithful John was watchful and looked into her face, and suddenly she turned pale and fell to the ground as if she were dead. On this he ran hastily to her, lifted her up, and bore her into a chamber—then he laid her down, and knelt and sucked the three drops of blood from her right breast, and spat them out. Immediately she breathed again and recovered herself, but the young king had seen this, and being ignorant why Faithful John had done it, was angry and cried, “Throw him into a dungeon.”

  Next morning Faithful John was condemned, and led to the gallows, and when he stood on high, and was about to be executed, he said, “Everyone who has to die is permitted before his end to make one last speech; may I too claim the right?”

  “Yes,” answered the king, “it shall be granted unto you.”

  Then said Faithful John, “I am unjustly condemned, and have always been true to you,” and he related how he had hearkened to the conversation of the ravens when on the sea, and how he had been obliged to do all these things in order to save his master. Then cried the king, “Oh, my most faithful John. Pardon, pardon—bring him down,” But as Faithful John spoke the last word he had fallen down lifeless and become a stone.

  Thereupon the king and the queen suffered great anguish, and the king said, “Ah, how ill I have requited great fidelity!” and ordered the stone figure to be taken up and placed in his bedroom beside his bed. And as often as he looked on it he wept and said, “Ah, if I could bring you to life again, my most faithful John.”

  Some time passed and the queen bore twins, two sons who grew fast and were her delight. Once when the queen was at church and the father was sitting with his two children playing beside him, he looked at the stone figure again, sighed, and full of grief he said, “Ah, if I could but bring you to life again, my most faithful John.”

  Then the stone began to speak and said, “You can bring me to life again if you will use for that purpose what is dearest to you.”

  Then cried the king, “I will give everything I have in the world for you.”

  The stone continued, “If you will cut off the heads of your two children with your own hand, and sprinkle me with their blood, I shall be restored to life.”

  The king was terrified when he heard that he himself must kill his dearest children, but he thought of Faithful John’s great fidelity, and how he had died for him, drew his sword, and with his own hand cut off the children’s heads. And when he had smeared the stone with their blood, life returned to it, and Faithful John stood once more safe and healthy before him. He said to the king, “Your truth shall not go unrewarded,” and took the heads of the children, put them on again, and rubbed the wounds with their blood, at which they became whole again immediately, and jumped about, and went on playing as if nothing had happened.

  Then the king was full of joy, and when he saw the queen coming he hid Faithful John and the two children in a great cupboard. When she entered, he said to her, “Have you been praying in the church?”

  “Yes,” answered she, “but I have constantly been thinking of Faithful John and what misfortune has befallen him through us.”

  Then said he, “Dear wife, we can give him his life again, but it will cost us our two little sons, whom we must sacrifice.”

  The queen turned pale, and her heart was full of terror, but she said, “We owe it to him, for his great fidelity.”

  Then the king was rejoiced that she thought as he had thought, and went and opened the cupboard, and brought forth Faithful John and the children, and said, “God be praised, he is delivered, and we have our little sons again also,” and told her how everything had occurred. Then they dwelt
together in much happiness until their death.

  FOUR HOUND-DOG STORIES

  Ireland and United States

  THE BEST COON-AND-POSSUM DOG

  Old Bob had a hound that he called the best coon-and-possum dog in Mississippi. All he had to do was to show the dog a board, and the dog would go off and find a possum or coon whose hide would fit the board. This saved Bob the trouble of hunting up a board to fit a hide, and he never had to worry about the quality of the possum or coon skin.

  One day, though, the dog disappeared and when he had been missing for three days, Bob took to the woods himself to see if he could find any trace of the faithful animal. After hours of searching, he found the dog, so worn out and exhausted that Bob had to carry him home in his arms.

  The incident puzzled Bob for a while, but he finally figured it out. His wife had left the ironing board out leaning against the back porch, and the dog saw it and went out in the woods and wore himself out trying to find a possum or coon with a hide big enough to fit the ironing board.—UNITED STATES

  HARE AND HOUND

  John McLoughlin that lived out the Point road had this hound. There never was the beating of her. She pupped in a teapot.

  One time she was carrying the pups, and a hare riz and she made after it and ripped the belly out of herself on this ditch, on wire or something; and the pups, the greyhound pups, spilled out of her. And one of them up like hell, and after the hare and stuck till her till he caught and killed her.

  And when the greyhound died, John McLoughlin had her skinned and he put a back in a waistcoat with her skin. And one day he was out over the water hunting and this hare started up; and begod, he said, the back of the waistcoat on him barked!—IRELAND

  THE MARYLAND DOG

  There was this fella down here one time and he had a wonderful rabbit dog. Well, this dog died and he decided that he had to do something to remember him by so he had him skinned and made himself a pair of gloves out of that dog’s hide. One time he was out in the forest working, and he pulled his gloves off and laid them on this stump and set down to eat his lunch. All of a sudden this rabbit run out of the underbrush and those two gloves jumped off of that stump and grabbed that rabbit and choked him to death.

  —UNITED STATES

  THE SPLIT DOG

  Had me a little dog once was the best rabbit dog you ever saw. Well, he was runnin’ a rabbit one day, and some fool had left a scythe lyin’ in the grass with the blade straight up. That poor little dog ran smack into it and it split him open from the tip of his nose right straight on down his tail.

  Well I saw him fall apart and I ran and slapped him back together. I had jerked off my shirt, so I wrapped him up in that right quick and ran to the house. Set him in a box and poured turpentine all over the shirt. I kept him near the stove. Set him out in the sun part of the time. Oh, I could see him still breathin’ a little, and I hoped I wouldn’t lose him. And after about three weeks I could see him tryin’ to wiggle now and then. Let him stay bandaged another three weeks—and then one morning I heard him bark. So I started unwrappin’ him and in a few minutes out he jumped, spry as ever.

  But—don’t you know!—in my excitement, blame if I hadn’t put him together wrong-way-to. He had two legs up and two legs down.

  Anyhow, it turned out he was twice as good a rabbit dog after that. He’d run on two legs till he got tired, and then flip over and just keep right on.

  Ah Lord! That little dog could run goin’ and comin’, and bark at both ends.—UNITED STATES

  There are really three ways to be a shape shifter—one who metamorphoses into another creature. First, you can be a sorcerer or witch and learn the ability to change at will. Second, you can be enchanted by a magic maker, perhaps by eating or touching something that causes you to change. And third, you can be a born shape shifter and be transformed, sometimes unwittingly, by natural forces: the pull of the moon, the turn of the tide, or the sloughing off of the skin.

  The most feared shape shifter in the world was the werewolf, and there are many who still believe in the dreaded loup-garou. However, as so many of the tales about lycanthropes are bloody, psychological horror stories, none are included here. But were-creatures, man-animal transformations, told of around the globe concerned more than wolves. In Japan and Korea, tales were told about were-foxes. In China, there were stories about were-bullfrogs; in Russia, were-snakes; in India, were-leopards and were-tigers. Anthropologists point to such tales as remnants of primitive totemism or as a storytelling response to a belief in reincarnation.

  The stories in this section are sometimes love stories, such as “The Swan-Maiden,” and sometimes about the getting of wisdom—if somewhat late—as in “The Wounded Seal.” The animals in the stories range from a lovely swan to a fearsome serpent; seals, horses, snakes, and deer abound.

  If after you read these stories you still desire werewolves, there is a charm from Russia that might help. Stand in a circle drawn on the ground and recite the following words. You may feel the change, the crack of bone and stretch of sinew, come upon you. The entire charm may be found in Montague Summers’s The Werewolf.

  In the ocean sea, on the island Buyán, in the open plain, shines the moon upon an aspen stump, into the green wood, into the spreading vale. Around the stump goes a shaggy wolf; under his teeth are all the horned cattle; but into the wood the wolf goes not; into the vale the wolf does not roam. Moon! moon! golden horns! Melt the bullet, blunt the knife, rot the cudgel, strike fear into man, beast, and reptile, so that they may not seize the grey wolf, nor tear from him his warm hide. My word is firm, firmer than sleep or the strength of heroes.

  THE DOCTOR AND HIS PUPIL

  France

  There was once a poor man who had a twelve-year-old son. He sent him to find work.

  The boy departed wearing a jacket that was red in front and white behind. He passed in front of a castle; it was the residence of a doctor, who happened to be standing at the window. As he needed a servant, the master of the castle called the boy.

  “What are you looking for in these parts?”

  “Since I’d like to make a living, I’m looking for work.”

  “Do you know how to read?”

  “Yes, for I’ve been to school for six months.”

  “Then you won’t do.”

  The boy went away; but in a few days he came back with his jacket on backwards and passed once more in front of the castle. Again the master was at his window.

  “What are you looking for in these parts?”

  “I’d like to make a living; I’m looking for work.”

  “Do you know how to read?”

  “No, for I’ve never been to school.”

  “Well, then, come in; I’ll hire you. I’ll give you one hundred francs a year and board.”

  The boy entered and his master gave him something to eat. Then he showed him his book of secrets and gave him a duster.

  “You will dust my book carefully every day, and that’s all you’ll have to do.”

  Then the doctor left on a trip and was gone a whole year. The boy took advantage of this absence to read his master’s book and get acquainted with the doctor’s skills.

  The physician returned. He was very happy with his servant and departed for another year. During this second absence, the boy learned half of the book by heart.

  The doctor returned and was so happy with his servant that he doubled his wages and departed for another year. During this third absence the young man learned the remainder of the book by heart. When his master returned he left the doctor’s employ to return to his parents, who were as poor as ever.

  On the eve of the village fair the young man said to his father, “Tomorrow go into the stable; you will find a beautiful horse that you must take to the fair. Sell him, but above all be sure to keep the halter.”

  The next day the father entered the stable and found a magnificent horse. He took it to the fair and buyers hastened around to admire the handsome anima
l. The father sold it for a good price, but he kept the halter and put it in his pocket. Then he set out on the road to his village and shortly he heard footsteps behind him: it was his son, who, having transformed himself into a horse and then retransformed himself into his natural shape while the buyer of the horse was celebrating in the tavern, was hastening to catch up with his father. And both were delighted with the fine deal they had made.

  After a time there was no money left in the house.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said the boy to his father. “I’ll see that you get more. Go in the stable tomorrow; you will find a steer that you can take to the fair. But when you sell it be sure to keep the rope that you are leading it with.”

  All took place at the fair as before, and the boy caught up with his father, whose appetite had been whetted by this money which was so easily earned, and who now proposed to take his son again to the next fair in the form of a horse.

  But the doctor, by consulting his book, had become aware of what his former servant was doing. He went to the fair, recognized the horse, and bought it. He took the father to the inn to conclude the bargain and made him drink a great deal so that he forgot to keep the halter.

  The doctor took the horse quickly away to a blacksmith. “Give him a good shoeing,” he advised.

  The horse was tied to the door. The children came out of school and a group of them came to hang around the blacksmith shop. The horse extended its muzzle toward a child and whispered to him:

  “Untie me!”

  The child was afraid and withdrew a bit, but the horse repeated, “Child, untie me!”

  The schoolboy approached and untied him. Immediately the horse transformed itself into a hare and ran away. The doctor saw it and turned six boys into hunting dogs. The hare came to the edge of a reservoir, jumped in, and turned into a carp. The doctor arrived, bought all the fish in the reservoir, and had it fished clean. He recognized the carp and was about to grab it when it turned into a lark. He turned into an eagle and pursued the lark, which flew over a castle and fell down the chimney, where it turned into a grain of wheat, which rolled under the table in the bedroom of the girl of the castle.