by Andrew Lang
'What are you dreaming about, Prince?'
'I was dreaming of your father, who has planned my death.'
'Fear nothing. You may sleep in peace, and to-morrow morning when you awake you will find the palace all ready.'
What she said, she did. The next morning when the prince left his room he saw before him a palace more beautiful than his fancy had ever pictured. Kostiei for his part could hardly believe his eyes, and pondered deeply how it had got there.
'Well, this time you have certainly won; but you are not going to be let off so easily. To-morrow all my twelve daughters shall stand in a row before you, and if you cannot tell me which of them is the youngest, off goes your head.'
'What! Not recognise the youngest princess!' said the Prince to himself, as he entered his room, 'a likely story!'
'It is such a difficult matter that you will never be able to do it without my help,' replied the bee, who was buzzing about the ceiling. 'We are all so exactly alike, that even our father scarcely knows the difference between us.'
'Then what must I do?'
'This. The youngest is she who will have a ladybird on her eyelid. Be very careful. Now good-bye.'
Next morning King Kostiei again sent for the prince. The young princesses were all drawn up in a row, dressed precisely in the same manner, and with their eyes all cast down. As the prince looked at them, he was amazed at their likeness. Twice he walked along the line, without being able to detect the sign agreed upon. The third time his heart beat fast at the sight of a tiny speck upon the eyelid of one of the girls.
'This one is the youngest,' he said.
'How in the world did you guess?' cried Kostiei in a fury. 'There is some jugglery about it! But you are not going to escape me so easily. In three hours you shall come here and give me another proof of your cleverness. I shall set alight a handful of straw, and before it is burnt up you will have turned it into a pair of boots. If not, off goes your head.'
So the prince returned sadly into his room, but the bee was there before him.
'Why do you look so melancholy, my handsome Prince?'
'How can I help looking melancholy when your father has ordered me to make him a pair of boots? Does he take me for a shoemaker?'
'What do you think of doing?'
'Not of making boots, at any rate! I am not afraid of death. One can only die once after all.'
'No, Prince, you shall not die. I will try to save you. And we will fly together or die together.'
As she spoke she spat upon the ground, and then drawing the prince after her out of the room, she locked the door behind her and threw away the key. Holding each other tight by the hand, they made their way up into the sunlight, and found themselves by the side of the same sea, while the prince's horse was still quietly feeding in the neighbouring meadow. The moment he saw his master, the horse whinnied and galloped towards him. Without losing an instant the prince sprang into the saddle, swung the princess behind him, and away they went like an arrow from a bow.
When the hour arrived which Kostiei had fixed for the prince's last trial, and there were no signs of him, the king sent to his room to ask why he delayed so long. The servants, finding the door locked, knocked loudly and received for answer, 'In one moment.' It was the spittle, which was imitating the voice of the prince.
The answer was taken back to Kostiei. He waited; still no prince. He sent the servants back again, and the same voice replied, 'Immediately.'
'He is making fun of me!' shrieked Kostiei in a rage. 'Break in the door, and bring him to me!'
The servants hurried to do his bidding. The door was broken open. Nobody inside; but just the spittle in fits of laughter! Kostiei was beside himself with rage, and commanded his guards to ride after the fugitives. If the guards returned without the fugitives, their heads should pay for it.
By this time the prince and princess had got a good start, and were feeling quite happy, when suddenly they heard the sound of a gallop far behind them. The prince sprang from the saddle, and laid his ear to the ground.
'They are pursuing us,' he said.
'Then there is no time to be lost,' answered the princess; and as she spoke she changed herself into a river, the prince into a bridge, the horse into a crow, and divided the wide road beyond the bridge into three little ones. When the soldiers came up to the bridge, they paused uncertainly. How were they to know which of the three roads the fugitives had taken? They gave it up in despair and returned in trembling to Kostiei.
'Idiots!' he exclaimed, in a passion. 'They were the bridge and the river, of course! Do you mean to say you never thought of that? Go back at once!' and off they galloped like lightning.
But time had been lost, and the prince and princess were far on their way.
'I hear a horse,' cried the princess.
The prince jumped down and laid his ear to the ground.
'Yes,' he said, 'they are not far off now.'
In an instant prince, princess, and horse had all disappeared, and instead was a dense forest, crossed and recrossed by countless paths. Kostiei's soldiers dashed hastily into the forest, believing they saw before them the flying horse with its double burden. They seemed close upon them, when suddenly horse, wood, everything disappeared, and they found themselves at the place where they started. There was nothing for it but to return to Kostiei, and tell him of this fresh disaster.
'A horse! a horse!' cried the king. 'I will go after them myself. This time they shall not escape.' And he galloped off, foaming with anger.
'I think I hear someone pursuing us,' said the princess
'Yes, so do I.'
'And this time it is Kostiei himself. But his power only reaches as far as the first church, and he can go no farther. Give me your golden cross.' So the prince unfastened the cross which was his mother's gift, and the princess hastily changed herself into a church, the prince into a priest, and the horse into a belfry.
It was hardly done when Kostiei came up.
'Greeting, monk. Have you seen some travellers on horseback pass this way?'
'Yes, the prince and Kostiei's daughter have just gone by. They have entered the church, and told me to give you their greetings if I met you.'
Then Kostiei knew that he had been hopelessly beaten, and the prince and princess continued their journey without any more adventures.
[Contes Populaires Slaves. Traduits par Louis Léger. Paris: Leroux, éditeur.]
The Simpleton
There lived, once upon a time, a man who was as rich as he could be; but as no happiness in this world is ever quite complete, he had an only son who was such a simpleton that he could barely add two and two together. At last his father determined to put up with his stupidity no longer, and giving him a purse full of gold, he sent him off to seek his fortune in foreign lands, mindful of the adage:
How much a fool that's sent to roam
Excels a fool that stays at home.
Moscione, for this was the youth's name, mounted a horse, and set out for Venice, hoping to find a ship there that would take him to Cairo. After he had ridden for some time he saw a man standing at the foot of a poplar tree, and said to him: 'What's your name, my friend; where do you come from, and what can you do?'
The man replied, 'My name is Quick-as-Thought, I come from Fleet-town, and I can run like lightning.'
'I should like to see you,' returned Moscione.
'Just wait a minute, then,' said Quick-as-Thought, 'and I will soon show you that I am speaking the truth.'
The words were hardly out of his mouth when a young doe ran right across the field they were standing in.
Quick-as-Thought let her run on a short distance, in order to give her a start, and then pursued her so quickly and so lightly that you could not have tracked his footsteps if the field had been strewn with flour. In a very few springs he had overtaken the doe, and had so impressed Moscione with his fleetness of foot that he begged Quick-as-Thought to go with him, promising at the same time to re
ward him handsomely.
Quick-as-Thought agreed to his proposal, and they continued on their journey together. They had hardly gone a mile when they met a young man, and Moscione stopped and asked him: 'What's your name, my friend; where do you come from, and what can you do?'
The man thus addressed answered promptly, 'I am called Hare's-ear, I come from Curiosity Valley, and if I lay my ear on the ground, without moving from the spot, I can hear everything that goes on in the world, the plots and intrigues of court and cottage, and all the plans of mice and men.'
'If that's the case,' replied Moscione, 'just tell me what's going on in my own home at present.'
The youth laid his ear to the ground and at once reported: 'An old man is saying to his wife, "Heaven be praised that we have got rid of Moscione, for perhaps, when he has been out in the world a little, he may gain some common sense, and return home less of a fool than when he set out."'
'Enough, enough,' cried Moscione. 'You speak the truth, and I believe you. Come with us, and your fortune's made.'
The young man consented; and after they had gone about ten miles, they met a third man, to whom Moscione said: 'What's your name, my brave fellow; where were you born, and what can you do?'
The man replied, 'I am called Hit-the-Point, I come from the city of Perfect-aim, and I draw my bow so exactly that I can shoot a pea off a stone.'
'I should like to see you do it, if you've no objection,' said Moscione.
The man at once placed a pea on a stone, and, drawing his bow, he shot it in the middle with the greatest possible ease.
When Moscione saw that he had spoken the truth, he immediately asked Hit-the-Point to join his party.
After they had all travelled together for some days, they came upon a number of people who were digging a trench in the blazing sun.
Moscione felt so sorry for them, that he said: 'My dear friends, how can you endure working so hard in heat that would cook an egg in a minute?'
But one of the workmen answered: 'We are as fresh as daisies, for we have a young man among us who blows on our backs like the west wind.'
'Let me see him,' said Moscione.
The youth was called, and Moscione asked him: 'What's your name; where do you come from, and what can you do?'
He answered: 'I am called Blow-Blast, I come from Wind-town, and with my mouth I can make any winds you please. If you wish a west wind I can raise it for you in a second, but if you prefer a north wind I can blow these houses down before your eyes.'
'Seeing is believing,' returned the cautious Moscione.
Blow-Blast at once began to convince him of the truth of his assertion. First he blew so softly that it seemed like the gentle breeze at evening, and then he turned round and raised such a mighty storm, that he blew down a whole row of oak trees.
When Moscione saw this he was delighted, and begged Blow-Blast to join his company. And as they went on their way they met another man, whom Moscione addressed as usual: 'What's your name: where do you come from, and what can you do?'
'I am called Strong-Back; I come from Power-borough, and I possess such strength that I can take a mountain on my back, and it seems a feather to me.'
'If that's the case,' said Moscione, 'you are a clever fellow; but I should like some proof of your strength.'
Then Strong-Back loaded himself with great boulders of rock and trunks of trees, so that a hundred waggons could not have taken away all that he carried on his back.
When Moscione saw this he prevailed on Strong-Back to join his troop, and they all continued their journey till they came to a country called Flower Vale. Here there reigned a king whose only daughter ran as quickly as the wind, and so lightly that she could run over a field of young oats without bending a single blade. The king had given out a proclamation that anyone who could beat the princess in a race should have her for a wife, but that all who failed in the competition should lose their head.
As soon as Moscione heard of the Royal Proclamation, he hastened to the king and challenged the princess to race with him. But on the morning appointed for the trial he sent word to the king that he was not feeling well, and that as he could not run himself he would supply someone to take his place.
'It's just the same to me,' said Canetella, the princess; 'let anyone come forward that likes, I am quite prepared to meet him.'
At the time appointed for the race the whole place was crowded with people anxious to see the contest, and, punctual to the moment, Quick-as-Thought, and Canetella dressed in a short skirt and very lightly shod, appeared at the starting-point.
Then a silver trumpet sounded, and the two rivals started on their race, looking for all the world like a greyhound chasing a hare.
But Quick-as-Thought, true to his name, outran the princess, and when the goal was reached the people all clapped their hands and shouted, 'Long live the stranger!'
Canetella was much depressed by her defeat; but, as the race had to be run a second time, she determined she would not be beaten again. Accordingly she went home and sent Quick-as-Thought a magic ring, which prevented the person who wore it, not only from running, but even from walking, and begged that he would wear it for her sake.
Early next morning the crowd assembled on the race-course, and Canetella and Quick as-Thought began their trial afresh. The princess ran as quickly as ever, but poor Quick-as-Thought was like an overloaded donkey, and could not go a step.
Then Hit-the-Point, who had heard all about the princess's deception from Hare's-ear, when he saw the danger his friend was in, seized his bow and arrow and shot the stone out of the ring Quick-as-Thought was wearing. In a moment the youth's legs became free again, and in five bounds he had overtaken Canetella and won the race.
The king was much disgusted when he saw that he must acknowledge Moscione as his future son-in-law, and summoned the wise men of his court to ask if there was no way out of the difficulty. The council at once decided that Canetella was far too dainty a morsel for the mouth of such a travelling tinker, and advised the king to offer Moscione a present of gold, which no doubt a beggar like him would prefer to all the wives in the world.
The king was delighted at this suggestion, and calling Moscione before him, he asked him what sum of money he would take instead of his promised bride.
Moscione first consulted with his friends, and then answered: 'I demand as much gold and precious stones as my followers can carry away.'
The king thought he was being let off very easily, and produced coffers of gold, sacks of silver, and chests of precious stones; but the more Strong-Back was loaded with the treasure the straighter he stood.
At last the treasury was quite exhausted, and the king had to send his courtiers to his subjects to collect all the gold and silver they possessed. But nothing was of any avail, and Strong-Back only asked for more.
When the king's counsellors saw the unexpected result of their advice, they said it would be more than foolish to let some strolling thieves take so much treasure out of the country, and urged the king to send a troop of soldiers after them, to recover the gold and precious stones.
So the king sent a body of armed men on foot and horse, to take back the treasure Strong-Back was carrying away with him.
But Hare's-ear, who had heard what the counsellors had advised the king, told his companions just as the dust of their pursuers was visible on the horizon.
No sooner had Blow-Blast taken in their danger than he raised such a mighty wind that all the king's army was blown down like so many nine-pins, and as they were quite unable to get up again, Moscione and his companions proceeded on their way without further let or hindrance.
As soon as they reached his home, Moscione divided his spoil with his companions, at which they were much delighted. He, himself, stayed with his father, who was obliged at last to acknowledge that his son was not quite such a fool as he looked.
[From the Italian, Kletke.]
The Street Musicians
A man once possess
ed a donkey which had served him faithfully for many years, but at last the poor beast grew old and feeble, and every day his work became more of a burden. As he was no longer of any use, his master made up his mind to shoot him; but when the donkey learnt the fate that was in store for him, he determined not to die, but to run away to the nearest town and there to become a street musician.
When he had trotted along for some distance he came upon a greyhound lying on the road, and panting for dear life. 'Well, brother,' said the donkey, 'what's the matter with you? You look rather tired.'
'So I am,' replied the dog, 'but because I am getting old and am growing weaker every day, and cannot go out hunting any longer, my master wanted to poison me; and, as life is still sweet, I have taken leave of him. But how I am to earn my own livelihood I haven't a notion.'
'Well,' said the donkey, 'I am on my way to the nearest big town, where I mean to become a street musician. Why don't you take up music as a profession and come along with me? I'll play the flute and you can play the kettle-drum.'
The greyhound was quite pleased at the idea, and the two set off together. When they had gone a short distance they met a cat with a face as long as three rainy days. 'Now, what has happened to upset your happiness, friend puss?' inquired the donkey.
'It's impossible to look cheerful when one feels depressed,' answered the cat. 'I am well up in years now, and have lost most of my teeth; consequently I prefer sitting in front of the fire to catching mice, and so my old mistress wanted to drown me. I have no wish to die yet, so I ran away from her; but good advice is expensive, and I don't know where I am to go to, or what I am to do.'
'Come to the nearest big town with us,' said the donkey, 'and try your fortune as a street musician. I know what sweet music you make at night, so you are sure to be a success.'