One day while his mother was in the village, Joaquín decided to take the baby for a bath in the ocean. He picked her up in his arms and waded in. In a flash a giant wave pulled him head over heels, and what happened to the baby he had no idea. When he could breathe again, he let out with a scream, then plunged into the water. But there was no sign of his baby sister. Wild with grief, he fell down on the beach and sobbed.
Suddenly he heard his name called. He raised his head, and there was the cow, speaking to him with a human voice. It said, “I knew this was going to happen. It was the same with your father. He tried to cross the river and that woman came after him. She’s a witch, you know, and the water spirits are her in-laws. She used her wicked arts against him and doomed him. Now she’s got the baby. You’ll be next, unless you do what I’m about to tell you.”
“And what would that be?”
“You must take your knife and kill me, then skin me immediately. Spread the hide on the water, and it will take you over the waves. Be sure to hang on to the tail. If you find yourself in danger, pluck one of my tail hairs and it will be your salvation. And don’t forget: take out my eyes and put them in your pocket. They’re powerful. They’ll let you see through water and earth, even mountains and stone walls.”
The boy followed these instructions, and before he knew it he was gliding over the waves. When he was far from shore, hundreds of fish started snapping at the hooves of the cowhide, threatening to drag it to the bottom of the sea. But he remembered what the cow had told him, plucked a hair from the tail, and when it turned into a hefty oar he clouted the fish until they were all floating bottom side up.
Night came fast, dark and gloomy. But he took one of the cow’s eyes out of his pocket and gazed into the water. Far below he could see rocks, fish, monsters of the deep, and old shipwrecks. There was not a thing in his way, however, and with the eyeball close at hand he sailed on through the night.
When morning came, a flock of black birds larger than condors came swooping down to land on the cowhide. Before they could sink it, he pulled another hair from the tail, and when he looked at it a second time it was a loaded blunderbuss. He pulled the trigger, and some of the birds flew off screaming. Others dropped to the water, and their blood turned the ocean red.
Another couple of hours and icebergs came into view. In what seemed no more than a few moments they were on top of him. In his haste to pluck a hair he yanked nearly the whole tuft from the end of the tail. As he threw the tuft at the icebergs, the hairs burst into flames. The ice melted, and the cowhide sped on its way.
Finally, with one of the eyeballs as his telescope he spotted an island on the horizon. In the middle of the island was a castle surrounded by walls as high as mountains. He thought, “My little sister’s there.” And as the cowhide landed, he adjusted the eyeball and looked through the castle walls. There was an enormous room with a column of black marble in the center. Chained to the column was a man; and close by, a pan of live coals. Bending over the coals was that woman they said had stolen his father. She clutched a baby in one hand and a butcher knife in the other, ready to skin the baby. She seemed to be talking to the man, who turned his face away as if he didn’t want to see what she would do.
Without wasting a second, Joaquín snatched the remaining hairs from the cow’s tail and put them in his pocket. He laid one of them against the wall, and it became a ladder. Up he climbed, until he reached a window. With a single bound he jumped through the window, landing next to the woman. Then he tore the knife from her hand and gave her a whack that sent her rolling across the floor.
He picked up the baby and untied the prisoner, who was none other than his own father, so thin and pale he seemed more like a skeleton than a live man. Then with one of the cow’s eyes Joaquín peered into the black marble column. He saw a staircase leading downward. He found the door, opened it, and descended into a treasure cave. He and his father filled their pockets with gold and precious stones, then followed the winding passageway out to the sea. They jumped onto the cowhide and were pushed home in no time by the hands of invisible beings.
Dolores was on the beach waiting for them. She’d picked up a scent in the wind. And when she saw her lost husband and her two children, she threw her arms around them and cried for joy. Her husband explained how the Lost Soul had carried him off by speaking a few magic words and how she had tied him up in her castle when he refused to marry her.
While his father was telling the story, Joaquín was running back and forth on the beach, gathering up the cowhide and the cow’s bones. He bundled them all together and put the eyes back in the sockets. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out one last hair from the cow’s tail. He struck a match to burn the hair but burned his fingers instead and dropped the match. It fell on the hide, and the cow stood up. It was as plump and healthy as ever and started ambling home.
With a portion of the gold and jewels they’d stuffed in their pockets, Joaquín’s father bought a ranch, lots of animals, and everything else you’d need to be rich. They all lived happily till the day they died— and here we are, still waiting for our luck to change.
My tale is done, and the wind blows it off. When the wind brings it back, I’ll tell it again.
Chile / Magdalena Muñoz
52. Judas’s Ear
There was a young wife who had a son. When her husband died she left the boy with his grandmother and went off to see the world. Arriving at the edge of a forest, she changed into men’s clothing and fell in with a couple of hunters who had a camp. They invited her to join them. “Come work with us,” they said. They had no idea she was a woman.
One day when it was the young widow’s turn to stay back and prepare the meal, they warned her, “There’s someone who keeps coming here spilling the food while we’re off hunting. We don’t know who it is.”
“I’ll keep an eye out,” said the widow. When the men had gone, an old woman came into the camp and began knocking over bowls, spilling food left and right. The young widow picked up a club and chased her off. When the two hunters returned, the widow said, “It was an old woman. Just look at the mess she left! When I tried to catch her, she ran down a hole.”
“We’ll have to pull her out, but how?” said one of the men.
“We’ll cut a hide into strips, make a towline,” said the other, “and go down hand over hand.”
But the one who tried it first got cold feet as soon as he reached the bottom of the hole, and he came shinnying back up the rope as fast as his hands and knees would take him. The same thing happened to the second man.
“What did you see down there?” asked the widow.
“A little white light,” said the man. “It scared me out of my wits.”
The widow picked up her club and shinnied down the rope. There was the light. She waited a moment. Nothing happened. She moved forward slowly. What should she find but three shining maidens! As she approached, the maidens drew back in fear. One of them cried out, “Stay where you are! Can’t you see we’re under a spell? We’re prisoners of Judas himself, and his old wife looks after us and brings us food.”
“Stop worrying,” said the widow. “I’ll get you out of here if it costs me my life.”
“And how will you do it, sir? We were kidnapped by Judas, who is king of the underworld, and even though our father is king of the country above, he hasn’t been able to set us free.”
“Come with me,” said the widow. She led the princesses to the towline, and all three of them shinnied to the top. When the two hunters saw the shining princesses, they were smitten. “Who gets which one?” “We’ll decide that later!” And they yanked the rope out of the hole before the princesses’ rescuer could even think of climbing back up.
Down below the widow turned around and saw the old woman coming after her. “Stop, thief! You’ve stolen our princesses!” In reply the widow lifted her club and with one blow reduced the old crone to a pool of blood.
Judas appeared in an ins
tant, snorting and bellowing. “I smell blood! Hand me my meal, or I’ll eat you alive!” The widow brought down her club a second time. Judas dodged, and the blow knocked off one ear. She pulled out her rosary and threw it around his neck. He fell backwards, and the rosary pinned him to the ground.
“Set me free immediately!”
“I’m not the one who’s holding you down,” she replied. “But I can help you if you’ll get me out of here.”
“It’s a promise. King’s honor.”
She took back her rosary, stood on his shoulders, and was just tall enough to crawl out of the hole.
“Now give me back my ear!”
“Not a chance! I’ll keep that for good luck.” And she headed straight for the city, still in men’s clothes. Her son, who was living in town with his grandmother, had no idea his mother had arrived. As for the two selfish hunters, they themselves were in the king’s city, now married to the king’s two older daughters and living like princes. And the youngest princess? She could do nothing but wait for her rescuer, hoping that he—as she thought—would arrive before long to ask for her hand.
When the widow got to the palace and asked to see the king, the guards paid no attention to her. The young princess, however, was at the window and saw the one she had been waiting for. She went to the king and announced grandly, “My husband is here. Let him in.”
The king gave the order, and when the widow came before him, still in her manly outfit, the king said, “Is it you, who broke the spell and freed the three princesses?” The hunters, who were now the king’s sons-in-law, were called forward as witnesses. They had no choice but to tell the truth. What else could they say when the widow produced the ear? Then she spoke up, “Your Majesty, I have a son who is flesh of my flesh. Let him be the one to marry the princess.”
“What? A red-blooded man like yourself refusing to marry my daughter? You won her fair and square. She’s yours.”
“Your Majesty, I cannot marry a woman.”
“Why not?”
“Because I am a woman.”
“You, who swung the war club that defeated King Judas?”
“Never mind. I am a woman.”
“Give me your word on pain of death.”
“You have my word.”
“Then bring me your son,” said the king. “He’ll marry the princess, and I’ll make him my heir.”
The widow’s son was brought to the palace at once. The young princess liked him from the first moment, and they were married without delay. The king called the widow to one side, “Madam, shall I have those traitors put to death? The ones who left you in the cave and came rushing to marry my poor daughters?”
“Not at all,” said the widow. “They were disloyal to me, as you say, but they are happily married now. For the princesses’ sake let’s just forget it. After all, the princesses are not to blame.” The king agreed. Then he said to the widow, “Next time there’s a war, I’ll make you captain of all my armies!” And mind you,
This tale will last if it’s true; If it’s just a tale, it’s through.
New Mexico / Sixto Chávez
53. Good Is Repaid with Evil
While out walking with his son one day a man saw a snake trying to get into its burrow. A branch had pinned it to the ground and it couldn’t move. The boy started to free it. But the father stopped him and said, “Don’t! Snakes are bad neighbors. One little bite, if it gets the chance, and we’ll be finished.”
The boy paid no attention and gave the snake its freedom, and when the snake rushed at the boy to bite him, the father cried, “Snake, my friend! How can you bite him, when he’s just saved you?”
“Don’t you know?” replied the snake. “I’m repaying good with evil like everyone else. Isn’t that the rule?”
The snake kept insisting. But the boy and his father stood back. A burro was passing by at that moment, and they asked for its judgment. The burro turned to the snake and said, “Bite! Good is repaid with evil. That’s the rule. The same thing happened to me. After I’d worked all my life my master stopped feeding me and turned me out.”
The snake was just ready to bite, when the boy’s father saw a horse coming down the trail. He called to it and asked for its judgment. The horse rendered the same verdict as the burro. And so did a dog who came along later.
The snake was just at the point of biting when the father, who still hadn’t given up, appealed to a fox who happened by. He explained the case in a whisper and said, “Friend fox, be the judge. If you save my son, I’ll reward you with a pair of fat chickens I’ve got at my ranch.”
“Don’t worry,” said the fox. “I’ll be impartial.” And with his well-known gifts of persuasion the fox convinced the snake to drop the matter completely. Inch by inch the snake backed away. “Wonderful,” said the man. “Now let’s be on our way and I’ll pay you what I promised.”
When the man got home, he said to his wife, “If it hadn’t been for our friend the fox, we wouldn’t be alive,” and he told her all that had happened. “I promised our two fattest chickens.”
There was the fox waiting on top of the woodpile. “What? Our two fattest chickens?” The wife reached for a sack, stuffed their meanest dog inside, and handed it over. The fox ran off as fast as it could. And as it took to the road, it kept turning over in its mind, “What they tell you is true. Good is repaid with evil.”
Venezuela
54. The Fisherman’s Daughter
A man and a woman were married, and let me tell you they were poor. Every morning the man went fishing and would come back with no more than enough to get through one more day.
Then one time he pulled up his net and there was nothing at all, not a single fish. He heard a voice from the depths, “Promise to bring me the one who greets you lovingly when you arrive home, and I’ll give you as many fish as you want.”
The man thought, “Couldn’t it mean my little dog, who always runs from the house and jumps up to greet me when I come with my catch?” Three times the voice called from below. Hearing it for the third time, the man said, “Very well, I’ll bring you what you ask. Where shall I find you?”
“Right here!” said the voice. Then he cast his net again, and when he pulled it up it was filled with fish. He went home contented.
When he got within sight of his house, his little daughter ran out to greet him. “Papa, you’re home!” And she gave him a hug.
“Ay!” he said. “If only you knew, you wouldn’t hug me!” He entered the house, and his wife asked, “Why are you crying?”
“If you knew, you wouldn’t ask.” He kept quiet while his wife cooked the fish. When dinner was ready, he said, “I’m not hungry.”
“Tell me why not?”
He repeated, “If you knew, you wouldn’t ask.”
“Tell me!” The husband was crying. Finally he said, “I couldn’t catch a thing. My net was empty, but a voice promised me fish if I’d pay for it with the one who greets me lovingly. And when I got home, who should greet me with a hug but our own little daughter!”
The wife said, “You made a promise. Now you must do what the Lord requires.”
The man had three days to comply. On the third day they dressed their daughter nicely and the father took her to the deep place in the river where he had heard the voice. He called out, “Here’s the treasure you wanted.”
“Bring her to my house in the middle of the river,” came the answer, “and leave her there.”
They went into the water and found a house with chairs and tables and everything else a home should have. The man said, “Daughter, I must leave you now.” She was pleased with what she saw. “Very well,” she said, and he shut the door and went away. Night came.
When it was time to light the lamps, the lamps were lit. At supper-time the supper appeared, at bedtime the hammock was slung. Not a soul could be seen. Then all on their own the lights went out.
When morning came, breakfast appeared, but there was not a living soul. Ye
t the table was set. That night, when the lights went out again, a man’s voice called to her, “There’s a louse on the top of my head. Come kill it.” The girl got up, found the louse, and began rumpling the man’s hair. “That’s enough! Go back to bed now.” After all, she was still just a child.
On a different night, the man said again, “There’s a louse on my head, come look for it.” She began rumpling his hair, then touched him farther down on his face and felt something strange and woolly. In the dark she could hardly tell what it was.
Another night he said, “In the morning you will find a horse all saddled, waiting for you. You must go to your parents. But don’t let them touch you.”
“As you wish.”
“And here, take this money for your father.”
The next day, when she arrived at her parents’ house, her mother reached out to embrace her, but the girl shrank back. “Get down from your horse and come in,” they said. She answered, “No, I must go back now.” They were astounded to see that she had become a young woman. She handed them the money and rode away.
When she got back, she dismounted. She did not see who led the horse away or who unsaddled it. Night came.
When the lights went out, someone entered her room, just as before, and she began rumpling his hair. “Did you do as I told you?”
“I did. And no one touched me.”
“Good,” he said. “Now on Sunday you’ll go again.” And she did, and all went well. Then one night, when she had begun to rumple his hair, her hand grazed his body and she felt fish scales. “Oh my!” she thought. “He’s a charmed creature!”
He read her thoughts and said, “In the morning you must go to your parents again. But don’t bring anything back with you.”
“As you wish.”
The next day, when she arrived at her parents’ house, she allowed them to embrace her. She went inside, and the three of them sat there eating, smoking, and drinking. As she was about to leave, she said, “Mama, let me have a box of matches and a candle.” She tucked them into her bag and rode off.
Latin American Folktales Page 20