by Jon C. Scott
The moon rose, but when the children walked to the edge of the clearing to look for the bread crumbs, they realized that things were much worse than they had ever been before. The little forest birds had eaten all the crumbs.
It was a very cold autumn night.
“Maybe we can make a nest of the pine needles,” Gretel told her brother. “It will keep us a little warmer. When it gets light, we may find some of the bread crumbs.”
The next morning there was a glaze of frost on the ground. The children could see their breath as they crawled out of their nest of needles. They walked deep into the forest looking for crumbs. There were none.
Gretel didn’t cry. “We’ve got to start walking. At least that will keep us warm. Maybe we can find a trail out of the forest,” she said.
She grabbed Hansel by the hand and began to walk.
They walked deeper and deeper into the forest. The frost had made all the maple and ash leaves fall. The bare branches looked like bony fingers clawing at the grey sky.
Every time Hansel wanted to sit down, Gretel scolded him. “We have to keep going! It’s the only thing we can do.”
For two days, the children searched in vain for a trail. By the third morning, they were very cold, their stomachs were empty and their hearts were filled with sadness. If they didn’t find food soon, they would both die and be devoured by the wild animals. Hansel tripped over a big root, lay on the ground and, with tears streaming down his cheeks, told his sister that he couldn’t get up.
But Gretel wasn’t listening.
“Hansel, I smell smoke and…,” she sniffed again, “food.”
She pulled Hansel to his feet. Then, as if by magic, they saw a trail. They followed it until it opened into a clearing with a little cottage at the far edge. And from the cottage came the delicious smell of baking bread. They ran to the front door.
Just as Gretel was about to knock, she noticed something strange about the shingles covering the side of the house. They looked like gingerbread. She pulled one of them loose and took a bite.
It was gingerbread—spicy and chewy. She handed the shingle to Hansel and pulled off another for herself. As they busily filled their empty stomachs, they didn’t notice someone peering through a window in the little house.
The door opened suddenly. Hansel and Gretel looked up to see a very old woman in a black dress. A black shawl covered her head, and they could not see her face.
“Oh, please, don’t be angry,” Gretel stammered. “We were so hungry. We haven’t eaten anything for three days.”
“My dears,” the old lady replied in a crackly voice, “you are welcome to my gingerbread. I love children. Come inside, and I’ll cook you…” She paused, and then quickly added, “…a delicious meal.”
She put her hand on Gretel’s shoulder and almost pushed the little girl into the house. She certainly is strong for someone who looks so old and weak, Gretel thought.
The old lady sat the children at a big wooden table. They drank big mugs of creamy milk and ate steaming bowls of stew with pieces of meat, carrots and potatoes floating in the broth.
“That food should stick to your ribs,” the old lady remarked. “You’re much too skinny. You need some fattening up.”
That evening, she led the children to two little beds like the ones at home, except these had fluffy comforters and soft, downy pillows.
“I feel happier than I’ve felt for a long time,” Hansel said to Gretel. “I know that the old lady will help us get home. Things are going to get better.”
But the next morning, they got worse. The children quickly found out that she wasn’t a kind old lady. As soon as they came into the kitchen, she grabbed Hansel by the wrist. He tugged as hard as he could, but he couldn’t break free. Gretel tried to pull her brother away, but the old lady pushed her hard against the wall with her other hand. Then she dragged Hansel out the door, took him to the woodshed behind the cottage, shoved him inside and fastened the door with a big padlock. She came back into the cottage and put the key on a hook high up on the wall.
Then the old lady dragged Gretel to the sink and ordered her to clean the pots, pans and dishes from the dinner they’d eaten last night.
“When you’ve finished, you can start cooking for that brother of yours. He’s much too thin; he wouldn’t make a decent meal for a bird.”
All of a sudden, Gretel understood. The old lady wanted to eat them! She wasn’t a kindly old lady who fed lost children. She was a witch. Gretel remembered how her mother had warned her not to wander alone in the forest because evil old witches lived there.
That afternoon, when Gretel brought a plate of baked chicken, dumplings and bread to the woodshed for her brother, he was sobbing, “What will we do? What will we do?”
“Don’t worry, Hansel, we’ll think of something,” she replied as she passed the plate through the bars that covered the window. She tried to sound as cheerful as she could, even though she wasn’t sure what she could do.
In the morning, when Gretel went to the woodshed with a bowl of porridge for her brother, she found the chicken bones on the plate that she’d served to Hansel last night. Her brother had picked them very clean.
“Take this,” Gretel whispered, handing a bone through the bars. “I don’t think the witch can see very well, and if she wants to feel your hand to see if you’re getting fatter, hold out the bone. She’ll think it’s your finger, and that you’re still very skinny.”
That’s what happened—for weeks and weeks and weeks. The witch fed Hansel well. He became quite plump, but the witch didn’t know it. She fed Gretel leftover scraps. Things weren’t getting any better—but they weren’t getting any worse.
Then one day, as the ash and maple trees began to wear the green sheen of early spring, things got worse again—the worst they had ever been. The witch lost her patience.
“This is taking far too long,” she muttered to Gretel. “I guess I’ll just have to roast him as he is and then catch some fatter children.”
What the witch didn’t say was that she planned to eat Gretel as well. Two skinny children would be more filling than one.
“Girl, gather wood and take it to that oven near the woodshed. Start a fire, and I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Gretel did as she was told. The witch came and stood by her, cackling happily. “Soon,” she muttered to herself, “soon.”
“Now, girl, I want you to see if the oven is hot enough for baking.” When the little girl opened the door to look in, the witch planned to push her into the oven, close the door and cook her first.
Gretel had an idea that that’s what the witch wanted to do. She stammered, “B-b-but, I don’t know how to do it. How can I get close to see if it’s hot enough?”
“Foolish child,” snapped the witch, who by now was really impatient and very hungry. “Move over! I’ll show you how it’s done.” And she pulled a chunk of wood over to the oven, stepped up on it, opened the door and leaned forward.
Gretel knew she’d have only one chance. She jumped onto the chunk of wood and shoved the witch as hard as she could. The old lady fell forward into the oven, and Gretel grabbed the heavy door and pushed it closed. The witch pushed against the door, but Gretel’s fear and her courage made her strong. She swung a bar across the door and stepped back.
“Hansel! I’m coming,” she cried, joy in her voice. She ran to the cottage for the key and freed her brother. “Let’s get out of here and try to find our way home,” she said as she gasped to catch her breath.
“First,” Hansel replied, “you’ve got to eat. You’re so thin, a breeze would blow you away. You’ll need strength for the long walk ahead of us.”
While Gretel was making griddle cakes, Hansel looked around the house.
“Look!” he shouted out. He dragged a small wooden chest into the kitchen and opened it. It was filled with gold coins.
“I don’t think she just grabbed children,” said Hansel. “I think she must have invited grown-ups in for di
nner, too.
“We should take some of the coins to buy food when we get home,” he said.
After they finished eating, they loaded their pockets with coins and with the griddle cakes they hadn’t eaten. Then they walked out of the witch’s cottage—without washing the dishes.
They walked through the forest for several hours.
“Hansel,” Gretel remarked, “I have a feeling that things are really getting better. I think we’re close to home. I wonder if maybe we wandered so far into the woods because the witch had some kind of magical power that made children come to her house. Now I feel as if there’s something pulling us home.”
When they stopped to rest at noon, Hansel thought that the woods looked familiar. “Look!” he exclaimed. “Is that our apple tree over there?”
Both of them jumped up and ran toward the tree. They came into the yard, where their father was chopping wood. He looked very tired and very sad. “Father,” they cried out together, “we’re home!”
He dropped his axe when he heard the children and, when he saw them, smiled for the first time in many months. There was a tangle of arms, lots of hugs and kisses and many tears—all happy. The children told their father about their adventures and showed him the gold coins. Then they looked nervously at the little house.
“She’s gone,” he said. “She told me that if I couldn’t take care of her, she’d find someone who could. I haven’t seen her in months.”
The three of them held hands and walked into their cottage.
“Things really are better now,” Gretel smiled.
How Fin Defeated Cucullin
IRELAND :: For centuries, Irish people have told stories about Fin M’Coul, a brave and strong giant. But they also like to recount the tale about a time when he wasn’t so brave and needed to be saved by his wife.
Oonagh struggled to carry two buckets of water up Knockmany Hill. When she reached the door of the house, she put them down, gripped the door handle with both hands and gave a mighty pull. The west wind was blowing so hard that the door wouldn’t open. She gave another heave, and at last it opened. She picked up the buckets and went inside.
When they had married, Fin M’Coul had told his wife that he wanted his house on the top of Knockmany Hill, facing west. He said that it was such a lovely sight to see the sun sinking every evening.
Oonagh agreed that the view was wonderful. But there were two big problems. There was no well near the house. Every time she needed water, she had to go to the stream at the bottom of the hill. And because of the strong wind, it took all her strength to pull the door of the house open.
Oonagh had been after Fin for years to fix these problems. He always said he’d be happy to do these things for her. But somehow he never got around to it. He always seemed too busy with some other big project.
Just now, he and his friends were building a giant rock causeway from Ireland to Scotland. And if he wasn’t working on some project, he would wander around Ireland fighting other giants. Fin’s reputation for strength meant that all the other giants wanted to try their strength against him.
Oonagh went to close the door. She saw someone coming from the bottom of the hill. It was Fin—and that seemed strange to her. It was the middle of the afternoon. He always liked to work until just before sundown, when he would come home, sit on the bench beside the door, watch the sun set and then come inside to enjoy the enormous meal Oonagh had cooked.
“What a surprise,” she said as Fin came up to the door. “What brings you home so early?”
“The boys have been working very hard on the causeway. I thought they needed a rest. And besides,” he said in a booming, hearty voice as he wrapped his arms around her in a big hug, “I wanted to be home to spend this lovely afternoon with you, my little lamb.”
Oonagh was pleased with his words, but she thought there was something more to it than that. Suddenly, Fin put his thumb in his mouth, closed his eyes and frowned. Then, his knees started to shake. Oonah knew something was wrong. Fin always sucked on his thumb to help him find out if danger was nearby. That’s how he’d been able to get ready for all the giants who’d come to fight with him. But she’d never seen his knees tremble before.
“It’s Cucullin,” he said in a voice that wasn’t so big and hearty. “He’s the only giant I’ve never beaten. One of the boys heard that he was in the neighbourhood and that he was comin’ to thrash me. People say that he’s so tough that once he flattened a thunderbolt so that it looked like a griddle cake. They say he carries it in his pocket. I don’t know what to do. I can feel that he’s really close.”
Now Oonagh understood why Fin never seemed to have had the time to turn the house around. With the door facing west, he could see his enemy coming.
“Why, you’re blubbering like a baby,” she said, surprised to see her man so frightened. She paused and thought for a few seconds. “Listen, you big baby, I have an idea. Quit sucking your thumb. Don’t ask questions and do exactly as I tell you. Quick! We have no time to waste.”
She told Fin to go down the hill to fetch 10 of the roundest and whitest rocks in the stream. While he was doing this, she made 10 round balls of white cheese. They were so fresh that milk and water seeped out of them. Then she kneaded a great pan of dough for griddle cakes.
She’d just set the 10 big round balls of cheese on the kitchen shelf when Fin returned with the stones.
“Put them in the corner, under the shelf,” she ordered.
Fin was puzzled, but did as he was told. Then she told him to go to the neighbours to borrow a dozen griddle pans.
“Now,” she said, when Fin returned with the pans, “I want you to wrap dough around each of these pans so that you can’t see them.” She gave him half of the dough. The other half she made into cakes without pans in them. Then she put them all to bake by the fire.
Fin was still puzzled, but he remembered Oonagh’s orders not to ask questions.
“Go to the storeroom and bring the cradle out,” she said.
The cradle was dusty, for it hadn’t been used since Sean, their grown son, had been little. He’d been a pretty big baby, so they’d built a very large cradle.
Fin carried it into the room. Oonah had gathered several baby blankets and had found a very big bonnet with lace around the edges. “Put this on,” she said, handing the bonnet to Fin. He opened his mouth in surprise and was just about to ask why when she reminded him, “Just do as you’re told, and don’t ask questions.”
He put the bonnet on and tied the ribbons under his chin.
“Get in the crib,” she ordered.
He did as he was told, and she covered him with the blankets. Fin stuck his thumb in his mouth, and again his knees started to tremble. “Cucullin’s at the bottom of the hill,” he almost sobbed.
A few minutes later, three knocks as loud as thunder sounded on the door.
“Come in,” called Oonagh in a very cheery voice.
“Where’s Fin?” Cucullin asked in a voice louder than Fin’s. “I’ve come to give him a real thrashing.”
“Why, he just went out to meet you,” she replied, her voice very sweet. “You must have come by a different path. But sit down and have a cup of tea while you wait.”
After 10 minutes, Cucullin began to get impatient. He gazed around the cottage, thinking Fin might be hiding. But all he saw was a very big baby sleeping in the cradle near the fireplace. He looked toward the door. Surely Fin would be coming home soon.
“While you’re waiting, perhaps you could help me. Fin was going to turn the house around so that the door wouldn’t face the wind. And he was going to dig a well in the yard. But he’s been so busy working on the great causeway to Scotland that he hasn’t had the time. I know how strong you are. You could do it in a few minutes, while you’re waiting.”
Cucullin was certainly strong, and he was flattered that Oonagh had noticed. He rolled up his sleeves and began rubbing the first finger of his right hand. When he saw Oonagh staring a
t him with a puzzled look on her face, he explained: “That finger is where I store all my strength. I’m just limbering it up.”
He went outside, wrapped his arms around the house, lifted with all his might and turned it so that the door faced east, away from the wind. Then he went to the shed, found a shovel and began to work furiously. In a few minutes, he had dug the well for Oonagh.
When Cucullin came back in, Oonagh was standing by the cradle, handing the baby what looked like a large white rock.
“The little tad was restless. When he wakes up, he likes to play with a rock. He and Fin each take a rock and squeeze it so hard that water comes out. Seeing as how Fin’s not here yet, perhaps you’d like to play. There’s the pile of rocks in the corner.”
Cucullin liked babies. He picked up a rock and squeezed. Nothing happened. He squeezed so hard that his face turned red.
“This is hard. I can’t believe that Fin and the baby play this game.”
In the cradle, Fin said, “Goo,” held up his rock—which was really a ball of cheese—and squeezed it so the water ran out, popped it into his mouth, chewed it and swallowed it in one big gulp.
You can imagine how surprised Cucullin was. And, to tell the truth, he started to feel a little worried. If the baby was so strong that he could squeeze water out of a rock and then eat the rock, how strong would his father be? Maybe coming here to beat Fin up wasn’t such a good idea.
“Sure and you must be hungry after all that hard work,” Oonagh said to Cucullin, smiling politely. “It looks as if Fin isn’t going to get home soon. Won’t you have a couple of griddle cakes? I just made them.”
She put two on a big platter and set them on the table before the giant. Then she took one to the baby.
Cucullin was very hungry. He took one of the cakes, opened his mouth wide and took a very big bite. CLANG!
His teeth hit the pan hidden inside. Two of them broke off. He said nothing, but looked over at the baby, who was chewing his cake.
Not wanting to insult Oonagh by telling her that the cake was so hard that he’d broken his teeth, he took another bite. CLANG!