SOUTHERN SLAVONIANS.

BULGARIAN STORIES.

THE Bulgarians do not derive their name from a Slavonic origin, but from a small and warlike nation of horsemen, which in A.D. 679 crossed the Danube under a chief named Isperich, conquered the disunited Slavonic tribes that had settled in Mœsia, and consolidated them into a powerful realm. The conquerors melted into the conquered, and lost their language, but gave their name to the state and country. The Slavonic language of the people does not appear to have been affected by that of their Ugrian conquerors, but rather by the old Thracian language, which, conjointly with Latin, has produced the present Roumanian. The peculiarities of the present Bulgarian language are: (1) the loss of case-inflexions in nouns and adjectives, while the verbal system is most complete and complex; (2) the expression of the genitive and dative cases by prefixing the preposition na; (3) the post-positive article, which is also borrowed from the old Thracian language, which was akin to the Illyrian now spoken by the present Albanians and Epirots; (4) the loss of the infinitive mood, which is replaced by da with the finite verb. Baron Wenceslas Wratislaw, in describing his journey through Bulgaria in 1591, says of the people: ‘They use a Slavonic language, so that we Bohemians can converse with them.’

The Bulgarian tales themselves are curious, and some of them very beautiful, as are also the songs, to which considerable space is devoted by Mr. Morfill in his ‘Slavonic Literature’ (pp. 125-144). There are old traditions as to the world and its inhabitants, apparently of heathen origin (No. 35); a singular fusion of the history of Abraham and Isaac with some other, probably heathen, tradition (No. 36); a version of ‘Cinderella’ (No. 37), which, involving as it does the transmigration of souls, clearly exhibits an Indian origin; a beautiful story (No. 38), the latter part of which is a variant of the latter part of the Russian tale of ‘Marya Morevna’ (Ralston, p. 85), and No. 39, in the latter part of which many people will recognise a variant of an old acquaintance.

XXXV.—THE LORD GOD AS AN OLD MAN.

In the beginning, when man began to plough, when he had cut a furrow from one end to the other, he lifted his plough on to his shoulder, and when he had carried it back to the same end that he had begun from, he began again to plough thence. The Lord, in the form of an old man, passed by and said to him, ‘Not thus, my son, but when you make a furrow, turn your plough round at the same place to which you have cut the furrow, and plough back to the end from which you began.’ And thus the ploughman learnt to plough aright, as people plough at this day.

Thence the Lord went away in the form of an old man, and saw a woman who was weaving at a loom, and putting the thread, three threads at a time, into her mouth; she bit the thread off at one end, and began again at the same side. The Lord said to her, ‘Not thus, daughter; but put the thread hither and thither with two hands without biting the thread off.’ And she learnt to weave as people weave at this day.

The next day the Lord again passed alongside of the ploughman in a different guise, and asked him: ‘Who taught you, my son, to plough thus?’ He replied to him: ‘The Lord God, in the form of an old man.’ The Lord blessed him, and said: ‘A day to plough and a year to eat!’ Afterwards he passed by the woman and asked her: ‘Who taught you, daughter, to weave thus?’ She replied: ‘Myself, my very own self, quickly, quite quickly.’ Then the Lord said to her: ‘A year to weave, that you may carry it under the arm!’

They say, moreover, that at that time men had command not only over all animals, but also over inanimate things; but later, they say, it was altered when men became wicked. For instance, when a man had cut logs of wood and piled them in a heap, he struck them with a stick, and they went of themselves whither they were required to go. But a certain woman having cut logs and struck them to make them go, they started; but she, being tired of walking beside them on foot, seated herself at top, and the logs resisted. She struck them on one side, she struck them on the other, but they didn’t move any whither. Then she unfastened her girdle, and put them on her back. On the way God showed himself to her, and said to her: ‘Since you are wicked, instead of your riding on them, let them ride on you.’

When the Lord walked about the earth and blessed it, he went first to a herdsman. He was lying on his back under a tree, a pear-tree; his pitcher, in which he fetched water for himself, stood by empty. The Lord, in the form of an old man, asked him: ‘My son, is there any water in the pitcher?’ He said to him: ‘No.’ The Lord said to him: ‘Go, my son, to fetch me a little water, that the old man may drink.’ The herdsman made a sign to him with his foot: ‘There is where the spring is; if you’re thirsty, go, drink.’ The Lord then gave the word that all the herd should run off as if assailed by the gadfly; then, when they began all to run in one direction, the herdsman took his hat in his hand and started off, and as he ran after them thought: ‘How I have sinned against God!’

Then the Lord went to a shepherd. The shepherd also had a pitcher. The Lord asked him: ‘My son, have you any water?’ He replied to him: ‘There is water, old man, but I cannot go to fetch it myself, or the sheep will disperse.’ Then said the Lord: ‘Go, my son; I will watch them.’ When the shepherd went off for the water, the Lord took the shepherd’s staff, and when he had stuck it into the ground, placed the shepherd’s cloak upon it, and blessed the sheep. They became quiet and tranquil in the shade. During the shepherd’s absence up came a wolf to obtain the appointed tribute which he received every day from the shepherd. The Lord gave him a lamb of little value. The wolf, discontented, did not choose to take it, but darted forward and seized another, which he liked. Then the Lord took the shepherd’s trumpet, and struck him on the loins—on the spine. From this it has remained a property of the wolf that his loins are just as weak as his neck is strong. But he carried off the lamb which he had seized. The Lord took two little stones, threw them after the wolf and blessed them; they became two dogs, ran after the wolf, and took away the lamb which the wolf had seized. The shepherd came up bringing the Lord cold water, and saw the sheep quiet, for they were standing in the shade and the two dogs were frolicking round them. The shepherd then asked the old man: ‘Well, old man, now when the sheep are standing quiet, and are like blocks of wood, how shall I drive them to pasture?’ The Lord said to him: ‘My son, take a copper trumpet, and blow it to them; they will start off in the direction from which the wind blows gently.’ From that time forth down to the present day people drive their sheep to pasture blowing trumpets.

XXXVI.—BULGARIAN HOSPITALITY.

Once upon a time, when the Lord had formed the world, he wished to see how his people lived; he came down from heaven first of all on the Balkan Mountains, took the form of a man with a long white beard and white clothes; took a staff in his hand, and went about the world in the Bulgarian land; he travelled much, a whole day long, over desolate mountains. In the evening he came to a village to pass the night. He went into the first house at the end of the village and sat down on the threshold, said nothing, but meditated by himself. The mistress was in her house doing some work, and did not see him. But now her husband came from the field, from his plough, espied the old man, was delighted, and said to him: ‘Old man, you are very tired; you are a weary traveller. Come into the house; rest yourself, if it is but a poor one. I will entertain you with all that the Lord has given me—only say the word.’ The old man regarded him with cheerful eyes, went into the house and sat down. The man and his wife quickly rose up and prepared a hospitable meal according to what they possessed, and as nicely and as handsomely as they could, and placed it on the table. The couple ate of their homely meal, but the old man would not; he only smelt the homely banquet, said nothing, but watched how the two persons enjoyed themselves, and rejoiced. They urged him, they begged him. ‘Old man, why don’t you eat? You will remain hungry. Take, and taste, and try what you please. What we have is all here before you.’ The old man only said this: ‘Eat you—eat; I am thinking of something.’ When they had eaten their fill, they rose. The mistress went out to feed the child because it was crying. Then said the old man to her husband: ‘Do you know what, master, if you wish to entertain me? I cannot eat everything, but I wish for baked human flesh. Kill your little son, wash him nicely, and place him whole on the frying-pan in the oven; only look out that your wife does not see you, for she will weep.’ He replied: ‘Is this all that you want, old man? Why did you not tell me long before, that you might not have sat a hungry guest in the house? Did I not tell you that all was yours that the Lord had given me? Indeed, I love you exceedingly, old man; my heart tells me that you are good and worthy, and now you shall see; only have a little patience, till I get ready that which you desire.’ The man went out of doors, and his wife had begun to do some work, and had left her child to play by itself in the moonlight till it fell asleep, without knowing what was about to take place. Her husband stole the child, killed it with all haste, put it entire in the frying-pan, and shut it up in the oven, that its mother might not see it till it was cooked; he then went to the old man, sat down by him and conversed cheerfully with him. They had not talked long, when the old man became silent, sniffed with his nose, and said to the servant lad: ‘Go, look at the baked meat; it smells nicely; perhaps it is cooked.’

The lad rose, went out, opened the oven to look at and take out the baked meat. But what did he see? He was amazed and frightened at the wonder; all the oven and all the house was glittering with the brightness of the child. The frying-pan and the child had become gold, and shone like the sun. The child was sitting in the frying-pan like a big boy—handsome, cheerful, bright, and well. On his head was a crown of pearls and precious stones; on the girdle at his waist was a sword. In his right hand he held a book of blessing; in his left hand he had a wheatsheaf full of ears; and all this was shining more than fire, because it had all become gold. He returned to tell the old man what a wonder had taken place, and to ask what was to be done; but the old man was no longer there; he had gone out in front of the house, and said to them: ‘Fare ye well, and live as ye have done till now, honourably and contentedly. Your good hearts will have good from field and cattle, and blessing and peace upon your children and children’s children from the Lord. He will receive you and entertain you in his heavenly house.’ He then went away alone under cover of the night, no one knows whither.

XXXVII.—CINDERELLA.

Once upon a time, a number of girls were assembled spinning round a deep rift or chasm in the ground. As they spun they chattered together and told stories to each other. Up came a white-bearded old man, who said to them: ‘Girls! as you spin and chatter, be circumspect round this rift; or, if any of you drops her spindle into it, her mother will be turned into a cow.’ Thus saying he departed. The girls were astonished at his words, and crowded round the rift to look into it. Unfortunately, one of them, the most beautiful of all, dropped her spindle into it. Towards evening, when she went home, she espied a cow—her mother—in front of the gate, and drove her out with the other cattle to pasture. After some time the father of the girl married a widow, who brought a daughter with her into the house. The second wife had a spite at the man’s first daughter, especially because she was more beautiful and more industrious than her own, and she allowed her neither to wash herself, nor to comb her hair, nor to change her clothes. One day she sent her out with the cattle, gave her a bag full of tow, and told her: ‘If you don’t spin this tow into yarn to-day, or if you don’t wind it into a ball, you had better not come home at eventide—I shall kill you.’ It was sad for the poor girl, as she went after the cattle, endeavouring as well as she could to keep them together. In the afternoon, when the cattle lay down to chew the cud, she began to look at the bag to see how to perform her task upon it; but when she saw that she could not make out what to do with it, she began to cry. When the cow which was her mother saw her crying, she asked her why she was crying. She told her how it was, and what it was. Then said the cow to her: ‘Don’t be afraid; I will help you. I will take all the tow into my mouth, and will chew it, and yarn will come up into my ear. You must take it and reel it into a ball, and you will finish it in good time.’ As she said, so it was. She began to chew the tow, piece after piece; yarn came up into her ear, and the girl wound and reeled it, and finished the task. In the evening she departed and went to her stepmother, who was amazed at seeing so much work completed. The next time she gave her as much tow again. The girl spun till noon, and then in the afternoon, when the cattle lay down to chew the cud, the cow came up to her and began to chew the tow; yarn came up into her ear, and the girl wound and reeled it, and finished in good time. In the evening she went home and delivered to her stepmother all the tow spun and wound. She was astonished at seeing so much work completed. The third time she gave her still more tow, and sent her own daughter to see who helped her. The daughter went and concealed herself apart, and saw how it was and what it was, that the girl completed so much work in the day; she saw how the cow took the tow into her mouth, how yarn came up into her ear, and how the girl wound and reeled it. She went home to tell her mother. When she heard this from her daughter, she urged her husband to kill the cow. He endeavoured in every way to persuade her not to kill the cow, but could not over-persuade her. At last, when he saw that there was no escape, he promised to kill it on a certain day. When the girl heard that they were going to kill the cow she began to cry, and told the cow secretly that they were going to kill her. She said to the girl: ‘Be quiet—don’t cry! If they kill me, you must not eat any of my flesh, but must collect the bones and bury them behind the cottage. Then if need come to you, you must go to the grave, and help will come to you thence.’ On hearing this she went away.

One day they killed the cow and boiled her flesh, brought it into the parlour, and began to eat. The girl alone did not eat of it, according to the instructions she had received; but collected the bones, and then, without anybody seeing her, took them and buried them behind the cottage, where the cow (her mother) had ordered her so to do. The girl was named Mary; but at length, when they had put all the work in the cottage upon her—that is to say, to sweep, to fetch water, to cook, to wash up the plates—she had become dirty and begrimed with ashes and cinders from excessive work at the fireplace; and therefore her stepmother nicknamed her Cinderella (Pepelezka), and this remained her name afterwards.

One Sunday her stepmother got ready to go to church with her daughter, but, before starting, took a wooden dish of millet, scattered it on the ground in the cottage, and said to Cinderella: ‘Here you, Cinderella! if you don’t pick up this millet, and if you don’t get dinner ready by the time that I return from church, don’t come before my eyes, or I shall put you to death.’ Then they went away. Poor Cinderella, when she looked at all the millet, cried out weeping and wailing: ‘I will cook, I will sweep, I will attend to everything, but what poor girl can pick up all this millet?’ When she had wept and spoken, immediately there came into her mind what the cow had told her, to go to the grave, and there help would be given her in trouble. Cinderella went off to the grave. When there, what did she see? On the grave stood an open box, filled with all manner of rich clothes, and on the lid were two pigeons, white as snow. They said to her: ‘Mary! take the clothes out, put them on, and go to church, and we will pick up the millet and get the dinner ready.’ She put out her hands and took the upper ones, which were of pure silk and satin, put them on, and went to church. In the church people great and small marvelled at her beauty and her dress, especially because no one recognised her or knew who or what she was. Most of all did the emperor’s son marvel at her, and never took his eyes off her. When service was ended, she stole away and ran quickly home, undressed immediately, and put the clothes in the box, and the box immediately vanished from sight. She went to the fireplace, and what did she see there? The millet picked up, dinner ready—in one word, everything attended to! Soon afterwards, lo! her stepmother came with her daughter from church, saw everything in proper order, and was astounded.

Next Sunday, when she was about to go to church, taking a larger dish of millet and scattering it on the ground, she threatened Cinderella that she would kill her if she didn’t pick it up and get dinner ready. The stepmother went off with her daughter to church, and Cinderella betook herself to the grave of the cow. On the grave she found the two pigeons and the box with the dresses in it open. They told her to dress herself and go to church, and they would pick up the millet and get dinner ready. Taking a dress of pure silver, she dressed herself and went off to church. Now everybody, small and great, marvelled at her more than before, and the emperor’s son did not take his eyes off her for a moment. Service ended, she stole off amidst the multitude and got away home. There she undressed, and put the clothes in the box, and the box disappeared from sight. Soon afterwards, lo! her stepmother came and looked about; the millet was picked up, dinner was ready, and Cinderella was at the fireplace. She was astonished at seeing so much work completed.

The third time her stepmother got ready to go to church, and before she started, taking a dish of millet thrice as large, and scattering it on the ground, she said to Cinderella: ‘Cinderella, if you don’t pick up all this millet before we return from church, and if you don’t get dinner ready, go and hide yourself; don’t come before my eyes—I shall kill you.’ Then she went off to church. After this Cinderella went to the grave of the cow, and found there the box open and the two pigeons upon it. They told her to dress herself and go to church; they would pick up the millet and get the dinner ready. Taking a dress of pure gold, she dressed herself and went to church. There, when the people saw her, they marvelled, but no one knew who or what she was. The emperor’s son never took his eyes off her, and planned, when service was over, to follow her closely, to see whither she betook herself. Service ended, she stole off amidst the crowd, hastening to get away before her stepmother; but as she was pushing through the crowd, she lost one of her shoes, and the emperor’s son took it up. She escaped from among them with one shoe, undressed very quickly, put the clothes in the box, and the box vanished. She went home and looked in the cottage; the millet was picked up, dinner was ready, and everything attended to. She sat down at the fireplace, and, lo! her stepmother came and looked about the cottage; everything was in order, the millet picked up, dinner ready; she had nothing to find fault with her or scold her about.

The emperor’s son left the people, disguised himself, took the shoe, and went from cottage to cottage to try it on, to find out whose it was; and wherever he went he made inquiries, and tried it on the foot of every girl, but it did not fit one. For some it was too large, and for others too small; for some too narrow, for others too broad. At last he came to Cinderella’s cottage. As soon as her stepmother saw him, she concealed Cinderella under a trough. He asked whether there was any girl in the house. She replied that there was, and brought her daughter to him. He tried the shoe on her, but it wouldn’t even allow her toes to go in. He then asked whether there wasn’t another girl there, and she told him that there wasn’t. The cock had flown on to the trough, and when she told the emperor’s son that there was no other girl there, he crowed: ‘Cock-a-doodle-doo! pretty girl under trough!’ The stepmother shrieked out: ‘Shoo! eagles have brought you!’[13] But the emperor’s son, on hearing the cock say this, went up and took the trough off; and there was, indeed, the girl that he had seen in the church with those beautiful dresses, only on one foot she had no shoe. He tried the shoe on her; it went on, and was exactly the same as that on the other foot. Then the emperor’s son took her by the hand, conducted her to his court, married her, and punished her stepmother for her evil heart.

XXXVIII.—THE GOLDEN APPLES AND THE NINE PEAHENS.

There was once upon a time an emperor who had three sons, and in his yard a golden apple-tree, which flowered and ripened every night; but somebody robbed it, and the emperor was utterly unable to discover who the robber was. Once he was conversing with his sons, and said to them: ‘I do not know whither goes the fruit from our apple-tree.’ Then the eldest son answered him: ‘I will go to-night to see who takes it.’ When it became dark, the eldest son did as he had said: went out, and lay down under it. Well, when the apples began to ripen in the course of the night, slumber overtook him, and he fell asleep; and when he awoke at dawn he looked—but where were the apples? Taken away! When he saw this, he went and related all to his father just as it really happened. The second son said to his father: ‘I will go to-night to watch, that I may see who takes it.’ But he, too, watched it even as the first one. About the time when the apples began to ripen, he fell asleep. When he woke up in the morning, where were the apples? Taken away! Now came the turn of the third and youngest brother. He went out at eventide under the apple-tree, placed a sofa there, lay down, and went to sleep. About midnight, when the apples began to ripen, he woke up and looked at the apple-tree. It had just begun to ripen, and illuminated all the yard from the brightness of its fruit. Just then up flew nine peahens, eight of which settled upon the apple-tree, and the ninth on the ground beside his sofa, and, as soon as she had alighted, became a damsel, who shone with beauty like a bright sun. They conversed together while the other eight were rifling the tree, and when dawn came, she thanked him for the apples, and he begged her to leave just one behind her. She gave him two—one for himself, and one to take to his father—transformed herself into a peahen, and flew away, followed by the other eight. In the morning the prince rose up, and took one apple to his father, who did not know what to do for joy, and commended him without ceasing. The next evening the youngest prince went out again to watch the apple-tree, and as soon as he had gone out, lay down as before, and watched it that night also. In the morning he again brought his father an apple. This went on for a few days, when his brothers began to envy him, because they could not watch it, whereas he watched it successfully. They could not make out how to discover the manner in which he watched the apple-tree. So they sought out an old witch, who promised them to find out how their young brother watched the apple-tree. At the approach of evening, when the youngest prince was about to go out to watch the apple-tree, the accursed witch stole out and went off before him, lay down under his sofa, and there concealed herself. The prince came, lay down without knowing that the old woman was under his sofa, and went to sleep as previously. About midnight, when the prince had just woke up, the nine peahens arrived; eight of them settled on the tree, and the other on the ground beside his sofa, transformed herself into a damsel, and they began to converse together. While these were talking to each other, the accursed old witch softly raised herself up, and cut off a piece of the damsel’s long hair. As soon as she felt this, the damsel sprang on one side, transformed herself into a peahen, and flew away, with the other eight behind her. The prince, on seeing this, sprang off his sofa, and shouted: ‘What is this?’ He erelong espied the old woman under the sofa, seized and hauled her from under it, and, when morning came, ordered her to be fastened to the tails of two horses and torn asunder. The peahens came no more to the apple-tree, and the prince was much grieved on this account, and wept and mourned day after day. At last he determined to go to seek them all over the world, and went and told his father what his intention was, and his father endeavoured to comfort him, and said: ‘Stay, my son! I will find you another damsel in my empire, such an one as you wish for.’ But in vain; he would not follow his father’s advice, and made preparations to go; took with him one of his servants, and went into the world to find the peahen. When he had travelled a long time, he came to a lake, in the midst of which was a rich palace, and in the palace an aged empress, who had one daughter. The prince, on coming to the old empress, asked her to tell him about the nine peahens, if she knew about them; and the old woman replied that she did, and that the nine peahens came daily to bathe in the lake. On telling him this, she began to try to over-persuade him with these words: ‘Never mind those nine peahens, my son. I have a handsome damsel, and abundance of wealth—it will all remain yours.’ But as soon as the prince heard where the peahens were, he would not listen to her talk, but in the morning ordered his servant to get the horses ready to go to the lake. Before they started for the lake, the old woman called his servant, bribed him, and gave him a little whistle, saying to him: ‘When the time approaches for the peahens to come to the lake, do you secretly look out, and blow the whistle behind your master’s neck; he will immediately fall asleep, and will not see them.’ The accursed servant hearkened to her, took the whistle, and did as the old woman told him. When they arrived at the shore of the lake, he calculated the time when the peahens would arrive, blew the whistle behind his master’s neck, and he immediately fell as sound asleep as if he were dead. Scarcely had he fallen asleep, when the peahens arrived; eight of them settled on the lake, and the ninth perched upon his horse, and began to try to awaken him: ‘Arise, my birdie! arise, my lamb! arise, my dove!’ But he heard nothing, but slept on as if dead. When the peahens had finished bathing, they all flew away, and he awoke, and asked his servant: ‘What is it? Did they come?’ The servant replied: ‘They did come,’ and told him how eight of them settled on the lake, and the ninth on his horse, and that she tried to wake him. When the unhappy prince heard this from his servant, he was ready to kill himself from pain and anger. The next morning they visited the shore of the lake again, but his accursed servant calculated the time to blow the whistle behind his neck, and he immediately fell asleep as if he were dead. Scarcely had he fallen asleep, when the nine peahens arrived; eight settled on the lake, and the ninth on his horse, and began to try to awake him: ‘Arise, my birdie! arise, my lamb! arise, my dove!’ But he slept on as if he were dead, hearing nothing. When the peahen failed to wake him, and they were about to fly away again, the one which had been trying to wake him turned and said to his servant: ‘When your master wakes, tell him that to-morrow it will once more be possible for him to see us, but after that, never more.’ On saying this she took flight, and the others from the lake after her. Scarcely had they flown away, when the prince awoke, and asked his servant: ‘Did they come?’ He told him: ‘They did come, and eight of them settled on the lake, and the ninth on your horse, and tried to wake you, but you slept soundly. As she departed, she told me to tell you that you will see her here once again to-morrow, and never more.’ When the prince heard this, he was ready to kill himself in his unhappiness, and did not know what to do for sorrow. On the third day he got ready to go to the lake, mounted his horse, went to the shore, and, in order not to fall asleep, kept his horse continually in motion. But his wicked servant, as he followed him, calculated the time, and blew the whistle behind his neck, and he immediately leant forward on his horse and fell asleep. As soon as he fell asleep, the nine peahens flew up; eight settled on the lake, and the ninth on his horse, and endeavoured to wake him: ‘Arise, my birdie! arise, my lamb! arise, my dove!’ But he slept as if he were dead, and heard nothing. Then, when they were about to fly away again, the one which had perched on his horse turned round, and said to his servant: ‘When your master wakes up, tell him to roll the under peg on the upper, and then he will find me.’[14] Then she flew off, and those from the lake after her. When they had flown away, he awoke again, and asked his servant: ‘Did they come?’ He replied: ‘They did; and the one that had perched on your horse told me to tell you to roll the upper peg on the under one, and then you would find her.’ When the prince heard this, he drew his sword, and cut off his servant’s head. When he had done this, he started to travel on alone. When he had travelled a long time, he came at dusk to the cottage of a hermit, and lodged there for the night. In the evening the prince asked the hermit: ‘Grandfather, have you heard of nine golden peahens?’ The hermit answered: ‘Yes, my son; you are fortunate in having come to me to ask about them. They are not far hence; it is not more than half a day’s journey to them from here.’ In the morning, when the prince departed to seek them, the hermit came out to accompany him, and said to him: ‘Go to the right, and you will find a large gate. When you enter that gate, turn to the right, and then you will go right into their town, and in that town is their palace.’ He went on his way according to the hermit’s words, and went on till he came to that gate; then turned to the right, and descried the town upon a hill. When he saw the town he was much rejoiced. When he entered the town he inquired where the palace of the nine peahens was. It was pointed out to him. At the gate a watchman stopped him, and inquired whence and who he was. The prince told him all, whence he was and who he was. After this the watchman went off to announce him to the empress. When she heard it, she ran breathless, and stood in the form of a damsel before him, took him by the hand, and led him upstairs. Then the two rejoiced together, and in a day or two were wedded.

When a few days had elapsed after their marriage, the empress departed to go on a journey, and the prince remained alone. When she was about to start, she took out and gave him the keys of twelve cellars, and said to him: ‘Open all the cellars, but do not have any nonsense with the twelfth.’ She went away. When the prince remained alone in the palace, he bethought himself: ‘What does this mean, that I am to open all the cellars, but not to open the twelfth? Glory to the Lord God! what can there be in it?’ He then began to open them one after the other. He came to the twelfth, and at first would not open it; but as he had no occupation, he began to brood and to say to himself: ‘How can it be in this cellar that she told me not to open it?’ At last he opened it too, and found standing in the midst of it a cask bound with iron hoops, and a voice out of it was heard, saying: ‘I pray you, brother—I am athirst for water—give me a cup of water.’ On hearing this voice, the prince took a cup of water, and sprinkled it on the bung; and as soon as he had sprinkled it, one of the hoops of the cask burst. The voice then cried: ‘Give me one more cup of water; I am athirst.’ He took a cup of water and sprinkled it on the bung; and as soon as he had done so, another hoop burst on the cask. The voice then cried: ‘I am athirst; give me, brother, one more cup of water.’ The prince took another cup of water and poured it on the bung; but as soon as he had finished pouring it, the third hoop of the cask burst, the cask split asunder, and out of it flew a dragon, found the empress on her way, and carried her off. Thus it happened, and the attendants came and told their master that a dragon had carried the empress away. Finally he set off to seek her in the world. When he had travelled a long time, he came to a marsh, and in that marsh espied a little fish, which was endeavouring to jump into the water, but was unable to do so. This little fish, on seeing the prince, addressed itself to him: ‘I pray you, brother, do a good action: throw me into the water; I shall some time be of use to you; only take a scale from me, and when you are in want of me, rub it between your fingers.’ On hearing this he took a scale off it, threw the fish into the water, put the scale into a handkerchief, and went on his way. When he had gone a little further, he espied a fox caught in a trap. When the fox saw him, it called out: ‘I pray you, brother, let me out of this trap; I shall some day be of use to you; only take one or two hairs from my fur, and when I am wanted for you, rub them between your fingers.’ He let it out of the trap, took one or two hairs from it, and went on his way. Thus he proceeded onwards, till, as he went, he came to a hill, and found a crow caught in a trap just like the fox before. As soon as the crow saw him, it cried out: ‘I pray you, be a brother to me, traveller; let me out of this trap; I shall some day be of use to you; only take a feather or two from me, and when you are in want of me, rub them between your fingers.’ The prince took one or two feathers from the crow, let it out of the trap, and then went on his way. As he went on to find the empress, he met a man, and asked him: ‘I pray you, brother, do you not know where is the palace of the dragon emperor?’ The man showed him the way, and also told him at what time he was at home, that he might find him. The prince thanked him, and said: ‘Farewell.’ He then went on, and gradually came to the palace of the dragon emperor. On his arrival there he found his beloved, and when she saw him and he saw her, they were both full of joy. Now they began to plan together how to escape. Finally they agreed to saddle their horses and take to flight. They saddled them, mounted, and off. When they had ridden off, the dragon arrived and looked about, but the empress was not to be found. ‘Now what shall we do?’ said the dragon to his horse. ‘Shall we eat and drink, or pursue them?’ The horse replied to him: ‘Don’t trouble yourself; eat and drink.’ When he had dined, the dragon mounted his horse and galloped after them, and in course of time overtook them, and took the empress away, but said to the prince: ‘Go in safety; this time you are forgiven, because you gave me water in the cellar; but do not come a second time if your life is dear to you.’ The poor prince remained as if thunderstricken, then started and proceeded a little way; but as he could not overcome his heart, he returned to the dragon’s palace. There he found the empress weeping. When they saw each other and met, they began to consult how to get away so as to escape. Then said the prince to the empress: ‘When the dragon comes, ask him from whom he bought that horse, and tell me, that I may obtain such another, that we may escape.’ After saying this to her he went out, that the dragon might not find him on his arrival. When the dragon came, the empress began to coax him and make herself agreeable to him, and said to him: ‘What a swift horse yours is! From whom did you buy him? Tell me, I pray you.’ He answered: ‘Where I bought him nobody can make a purchase. On a certain hill lives an old woman who has twelve horses in her stable, such that you don’t know which is better than another. One of them is in the corner, and this one looks skinny; but he is the best of all, and is brother of mine: this one could fly to the sky. Whoever seeks to obtain a horse from the old woman must serve her three days. The old woman has a mare with a foal; whoever watches the mare successfully for three days, to him the old woman gives the choice of whichever horse he wishes. Whoever engages himself to watch the mare, and fails to watch her successfully for three days and three nights, loses his life.’ On the morrow the dragon went away, and the prince came in. The empress told him what the dragon had said. Then the prince started off and went to the hill where the old woman was to be found. When he entered her house, he said to her: ‘Good-day, old woman!’ The old woman replied: ‘The Lord give you prosperity, my son!’ She said to him: ‘What brings you here, my son?’ He replied: ‘I should like to take service with you.’ The old woman said to him: ‘Very good, my son. I have a mare with a foal. If you watch her successfully for three days, I will give you one of these twelve horses of mine to take away, whichever you choose; but if you fail to watch her successfully, I shall take off your head.’ Then she took him into the yard. In the yard post after post was fixed in the ground, and on each was stuck a human head; only one remained vacant, and this cried out continually: ‘Old woman, give me a head!’ When the old woman had shown him all, she said: ‘Know that all these engaged to watch the mare and the foal, but were unable to watch her successfully.’ But the prince was in no wise terrified thereby. In the afternoon he mounted the mare and galloped uphill and downhill, and the foal galloped after her. Thus till midnight, and then, would he nould he, sleep crept over him, and he fell asleep. When he woke up at dawn his arms were round a stump instead of the mare, but he held the halter in his hand. When he perceived this, the poor fellow became dizzy from terror, and started off to look for her; and while he was looking for her, came to a sheet of water, and when he came to the water, he remembered the little fish, unfolded the handkerchief, and took out the scale and rubbed it between his fingers. Up sprang the little fish out of the water, and lay before him. ‘What is the matter, adopted brother?’ said the fish. He replied: ‘The old woman’s mare has escaped from me, and I don’t know where she is.’ The fish said to him: ‘Here she is amongst us; she has transformed herself into a fish, and her foal into a little fish; but do you flap the halter on the water, and call out: “Coop! coop! old woman’s mare!”’ He flapped the water with the halter, and called out: ‘Coop! coop! old woman’s mare!’ and immediately she transformed herself again into a mare, and, pop! there she was on the brink of the water before him! He put the halter on her and mounted her, and trot! trot! and at the old woman’s. When he brought her in, the old woman gave him his dinner, but led the mare into the stable, scolded her, and said: ‘Among the fish, good-for-nothing rogue?’ The mare replied: ‘I was among the fish, but they told of me, because they are his friends.’ The old woman said to her: ‘Go among the foxes.’ The second day he mounted the mare, and galloped uphill and downhill, and the foal galloped after. Thus till midnight. When it was about midnight sleep overcame him, and he fell asleep upon the mare’s back. At dawn, when he awoke, his arms were round a stump, but he held the halter in his hand. When he perceived this, he sprang off again to seek her. As he was seeking her, it came at once into his head what the old woman had said to the mare when she was leading it into the stable. Then he unwrapped the fox’s hairs out of the handkerchief, rubbed them between his fingers, and the fox immediately jumped out before him. ‘What is it, adopted brother?’ He replied: ‘The old woman’s mare has run away.’ The fox said to him: ‘Here she is amongst us; she has become a fox, and the foal a fox-cub. But do you flap the ground with the halter, and call out: “Coop! coop! old woman’s mare!”’ He flapped and called, and the mare leaped out before him. Then he caught her and put the halter on her, mounted her, and rode to the old woman’s. When he brought her home, the old woman gave him his dinner, led the mare off to the stable, and said: ‘Among the foxes, good-for-nothing rogue?’ The mare replied: ‘I was among them, but they are his friends, and told of me.’ The old woman said to her: ‘Be among the crows.’ The third day the prince again mounted the mare, and galloped her uphill and downhill, and the foal galloped after. Thus till midnight. About midnight he became sleepy, and fell asleep, and woke up at dawn; but his arms were round a stump, and he held the halter in his hand. As soon as he perceived this, he darted off again to seek the mare, and as he was seeking her, it came into his head what the old woman had said the day before when scolding the mare. He took out the handkerchief and unwrapped the crow’s feathers, rubbed them between his fingers, and, pop! the crow was before him. ‘What is it, adopted brother?’ The prince replied: ‘The old woman’s mare has run away, and I don’t know where she is.’ The crow answered: ‘Here she is amongst us; she has become a crow, and the foal a young crow. But flap the halter in the air, and cry: “Coop! coop! old woman’s mare!”’ He flapped the halter in the air, and cried: ‘Coop! coop! old woman’s mare!’ and the mare transformed herself from a crow into a mare, just as she had been, and came before him. Then he put the halter on her, and mounted her, and galloped off, the foal following behind, to the old woman’s. The old woman gave him his dinner, caught the mare, led her into the stable, and said to her: ‘Among the crows, good-for-nothing rogue?’ The mare replied: ‘I was among them, but they are his friends, and told of me.’ Then when the old woman came out, the prince said to her: ‘Well, old woman, I have served you honestly; now I ask you to give me that which we agreed upon.’ The old woman replied: ‘My son, what is agreed upon must be given. Here are twelve horses—choose whichever you please.’ He replied: ‘Why shall I pick and choose? Give me that one where he is in the corner; there is none better in my eyes.’ Then the old woman began to dissuade him: ‘Why chose that skinny one when there are so many good ones?’ He then insisted once for all: ‘Give me the one which I ask, for such was our agreement.’ The old woman twisted, turned, and without more ado gave him the one which he asked for. Then he mounted it, and ‘Farewell, old woman!’ ‘Good-bye, my son!’ When he took it to a wood and groomed it, it glittered like gold. Afterwards, when he mounted it and gave it its head, it flew, flew like a bird, and in a jiffy arrived at the dragon’s palace. As soon as he entered the courtyard, he bade the empress to get ready for flight. She was not long in getting ready; they both mounted the horse and set off. They had not long started in flight when the dragon arrived—looked about. No empress. Then he said to his horse: ‘Shall we eat and drink, or shall we pursue?’ ‘Eat or not, drink or not, pursue or not, you won’t catch him.’ When the dragon heard this, he immediately mounted his horse, and started to pursue them. When the prince and empress perceived that he was pursuing them, they were terrified, and urged their horse to go quickly, but the horse answered them: ‘Never fear; there’s no need to hurry.’ The dragon came trot, trot, and the horse he rode called to that which bore the prince and the empress: ‘Bless you, brother, wait! for I shall break my wind from pursuing you.’ The other replied: ‘Whose fault is it, if you’re such a fool as to carry that spectre on your back? Buck, and throw him on the ground, and then follow me.’ When the dragon’s horse heard this, up with his head, a jump with his hind-quarters, and bang went the dragon against a stone. The dragon was smashed to pieces, and his horse followed the prince and empress. Then the empress caught and mounted it, and they arrived safe and sound in the empress’s dominions, and reigned honourably as long as they lived.

XXXIX.—THE LANGUAGE OF ANIMALS.

A certain man had a shepherd, who served him faithfully and honestly for many years. This shepherd, when he was once upon a time following the sheep, heard a whistling on the hill, and, not knowing what it was, went off to see. When he got to the place, there was a conflagration, and in the middle of it a serpent was squeaking. When he saw this, he waited to see how the serpent would act, for all around it was burning, and the fire had almost come close to it. When the serpent saw him, it screamed: ‘Dear shepherd, do a good action: take me out of this fire.’ The shepherd took pity on its words, and reached it his crook, and it crawled out upon it. When it had crawled out, it coiled itself round his neck. When the shepherd saw this, he was frightened, and said: ‘Indeed you are a wretch! Is that the way you are going to thank me for rescuing you? So runs the proverb: “Do good, and find evil.”’ The serpent answered him: ‘Don’t fear: I shall do you no harm; only carry me to my father; my father is the emperor of the serpents.’ The shepherd begged pardon, and excused himself: ‘I can’t carry you to your father, because I have no one to leave in charge of my sheep.’ The serpent said to him: ‘Don’t fear for your sheep; nothing will happen to them; only carry me to my father, and go quickly.’ Then there was no help for it, so he started with it over the hill. When he came to a door, which was formed of nothing but serpents intertwined, and went up to it, the serpent which was coiled round his neck gave a whistle, and the serpents, which had twined themselves into the form of a door, immediately untwined, and made way for them to enter. As the shepherd and the serpent entered the palace, the serpent called to the shepherd: ‘Stop! let me tell you something: when you come into my father’s palace, he will promise you what you desire, silver and gold; but don’t you accept anything, only ask him to give you such a tongue that you will be able to understand all animals. He will not give you this readily, but at last grant it you he will.’ The shepherd went with it into its father’s palace, and its father, on seeing it, shed tears, and asked it: ‘Hey, my son, where have you been till now?’ It replied, and told him everything in order: what had taken place, and how it had taken place, and how the shepherd had rescued it. Then the emperor of the serpents turned to the shepherd, and said to him: ‘Come, my son, what do you wish me to give you in recompense for rescuing my child?’ The shepherd replied to him: ‘Nothing else, only give me such a tongue that I can understand all animals.’ The emperor of the serpents said to him: ‘That is not a proper gift for you, my son, because, if I give you anything of the kind, you will betray yourself in somebody’s presence by boasting of it, and then you will die immediately; ask something else.’ The shepherd replied to him: ‘I wish for nothing else. If you will give it me, give it; if not, farewell!’ He turned to go; but the emperor of the serpents cried out: ‘Stay! Return! If you ask this, come, that I may give it you. Open your mouth.’ The shepherd opened his mouth, and the emperor of the serpents spat into it, and told him to spit also into his mouth. And thus they spat thrice into each other’s mouths. When this was done, the emperor of the serpents said to the shepherd: ‘Now you have the tongue which you desired; go, and farewell! But it is not permitted you to tell anybody, because, if you do, you will die. I am telling you the truth.’ The shepherd then departed. As he went over the hill, he understood the conversation of the birds, and, so to speak, of everything in the world. When he came to his sheep, he found them correct in number, and sat down to rest. But scarcely had he lain down, when two crows flew up, perched on a tree hard by him, and began to converse in their language: ‘If that shepherd knew that just where that black lamb lies a vault full of silver and gold is buried in the ground, he would take its contents.’ When he heard this, he went and told his master, and he brought a cart, and they broke open the door of the vault, and took out its valuable contents. His master was a righteous man, and said to him: ‘Well, my son, this is all yours; the Lord has given it you. Go, provide a house, get married, and live comfortably.’ The shepherd took the property, went away, provided a house, got married, and lived very comfortably. This shepherd, after a little time, became so rich and prosperous that there was nobody richer than he in his own or the neighbouring villages. He had shepherds, cowherds, swineherds, grooms, and everything on a handsome scale. Once upon a time this shepherd ordered his wife on New Year’s Eve to provide wine, brandy, and everything requisite, and to go the next morning to his cattle, to take the provisions to the herdsmen, that they, too, might enjoy themselves. His wife obeyed him, and did as her husband ordered her.

The next day they got up, got ready, and went. When they arrived where the cattle were, the master said to his shepherds: ‘Lads, assemble together, and sit down to eat and drink your fill, and I will watch the cattle to-night.’ This was done; they assembled together, and he went out to sleep by the cattle. In the course of the night, after some time, the wolves began to howl and speak in their language, and the dogs to bark and speak in theirs. The wolves said: ‘Can we capture any young cattle?’ The dogs answered in their language: ‘Come in, that we, too, may eat our fill of flesh.’ But among the dogs there was one old dog, who had only two teeth left. This dog spoke and answered the wolves: ‘In faith, as long as these two teeth of mine last, you shan’t come near to do harm to my master.’ In the morning, when it dawned, the master called the herdsmen, and told them to kill all the dogs except that old one. His servants began to implore him: ‘Don’t, master! Why? It’s a sin.’ But he said to them: ‘Do just as I ordered you, and not otherwise.’

Then he and his wife mounted their horses and went off. His wife rode a mare, and he a horse. As they went, the master’s horse outstripped the wife’s mare, and began to say to her in their language: ‘Go quicker; why do you hang back?’ The mare’s reply in defence of her lagging pace was so amusing that the man laughed out loud, turned his head, and looked behind him with a smile. His wife observed him smiling, whipped her mare to catch him up, and then asked him to tell her why he smiled. He said to her: ‘Well, suppose I did? Something came into my head.’ This answer did not satisfy her, but she began to worry him to tell her why he smiled. He said this and that to her to get out of it, but the more he said to get out of it, the more did she worry him. At length he said to her that, if he told her, he would die immediately. But she had no dread of her husband’s dying, and went on worrying him: ‘There is no alternative, but tell me you must.’ When they got home, they dismounted from their horses, and as soon as they had done so, her husband ordered a grave to be dug for him. It was dug, and he lay down in it, and said to his wife: ‘Did you not press me to tell you why I smiled? Come now, that I may tell you; but I shall die immediately.’ On saying this, he gave one more look round him, and observed that the old dog had come from the cattle. Seeing this, he told his wife to give him a piece of bread. She gave it him, but the dog would not even look at it, but shed tears and wept; but the cock, seeing it, ran up and began to peck it. The dog was angry, and said: ‘As if you’d die hungry! Don’t you see that our master is going to die?’ ‘What a fool he is! Let him die! Whose fault is it? I have a hundred wives. When I find a grain of millet, I call them all to me, and finally eat it myself. If one of them gets cross at this, I give her one or two pecks, and she lowers her tail; but this man isn’t equal to keeping one in order.’ When the man heard the cock say this, he jumped up at once out of the grave, seized a stick, chased his wife over hill and dale, and at last settled her completely, so that it never entered her head any more to ask him why he smiled.

SERBIAN STORIES.

THE Serbian is the most widely spread of the South Slavonic dialects, being spoken not only in Serbia proper, but also in Bosnia, Herzegovina, Croatia, Carniola, and a great part of South Hungary. It has, like the Bulgarian, been affected by the old Thracian language, but not to the same extent. The infinitive is very frequently represented by da with the finite verb. Szafarzik includes the whole of the South Slavonic dialects, except the Bulgarian, under the common name ‘Illyrian,’ and subdivides them into the three divisions of Serbian, Croatian, and Carinthian-Slovenish.

The Serbian stories are generally good, particularly No. 40, which may be compared with a very inferior variant in Grimm, ‘The Golden Bird.’ No. 40 is one of the stories, the beauty of which set me to work upon the present series of translations. In it is to be noticed the pobratimstvo, or adoptive brotherhood, which plays so important a part in Serbian life, and of which we have just had a glimpse in the Bulgarian story, No. 38. No. 43 is a very good story, containing novel and interesting incidents. In No. 44 it must be observed that ‘Fate’ is represented as a man, for the converse reason to that for which Death is represented as a woman in the Moravian story, No 8. Usud (Fate) is masculine, while Smrt (Death) is feminine in Slavonic.

The Serbs possess actual epic poetry, of which an account is given by Mr. Morfill (‘Slavonic Literature,’ pp. 154-162).

XL.—THE LAME FOX.

There was a man who had three sons—two intelligent, and one a simpleton. This man’s right eye was always laughing, while his left eye was weeping and shedding tears. This man’s sons agreed to go to him one by one, and ask him why his right eye laughed and his left eye shed tears.

Accordingly the eldest went to his father by himself, and asked him: ‘Father, tell me truly what I am going to ask you. Why does your right eye always laugh and your left eye weep?’ His father gave him no answer, but flew into a rage, seized a knife, and at him, and he fled out of doors, and the knife stuck in the door. The other two were outside, anxiously expecting their brother, and when he came out, asked him what his father had said to him. But he answered them: ‘If you’re not wiser than another, go, and you will hear.’

Then the middle brother went to his father by himself, and asked him: ‘Father, tell me truly what I am going to ask you. Why does your right eye always laugh and your left weep?’ His father gave him no answer, but flew into a rage, seized a knife, and at him, and he fled out of doors, and the knife stuck in the door. When he came out to his brothers, his brothers asked him: ‘Tell us, brother—so may health and prosperity attend you!—what our father has said to you.’ He answered them: ‘If you’re not wiser than another, go, and you will hear.’ But this he said to his elder brother on account of the simpleton, that he, too, might go to his father to hear and see.

Then the simpleton, too, went by himself to his father, and asked him: ‘Father, my two brothers won’t tell me what you have said to them; tell me why your right eye always laughs and your left eye weeps?’ His father immediately flew into a rage, seized a knife, and brandished the knife to pierce him through; but as he was standing, so he remained standing where he was, and wasn’t frightened in the least. When his father saw that, he came to him, and said: ‘Well, you’re my true son, I will tell you; but those two are cowards. The reason why my right eye laughs is, that I rejoice and am glad because you children obey and serve me well. And why my left eye weeps, it weeps on this account: I had in my garden a vine, which poured forth a bucket of wine every hour, thus producing me twenty-four buckets of wine every day and night. This vine has been stolen from me, and I have not been able to find it, nor do I know who has taken it or where it is. And for this reason my left eye weeps, and will weep till I die, unless I find it.’ When the simpleton came out of doors, his brothers asked him what his father had said, and he told them all in order.

Then they prepared a drinking bout for their father and the domestics, and set out on their journey. On the journey they came to a cross-road, and three ways lay before them. The two elder consulted together, and said to their youngest brother, the simpleton: ‘Come, brother, let us each choose a road, and let each go by himself and seek his fortune.’ ‘Yes, brothers,’ answered the simpleton; ‘you choose each a road; I will take that which remains to me.’ The two elder took two roads which ran into each other, started on their way, and afterwards met, came out into the road, and said: ‘Praise be to God that we’re quit of that fool!’ They then sat down to take their dinner. Scarcely had they sat down to eat, when up came a lame she-fox on three legs, which approached them, fawning and begging to obtain something to eat. But as soon as they saw the fox: ‘Here’s a fox,’ said they; ‘come, let us kill it.’ Then, stick in hand, and after it. The fox limped away in the best fashion it could, and barely escaped from them. Meanwhile, shepherd-dogs came to their wallet and ate up everything that they had. When they returned to the wallet they had a sight to see.

The simpleton took the third road right on, and went forward till he began to feel hungry. Then he sat down on the grass under a pear-tree, and took bread and bacon out of his wallet to eat. Scarcely had he sat down to eat, when, lo! that very same lame fox which his two brothers had seen began to approach him, and to fawn and beg, limping on three feet. He had compassion on it because it was so lame, and said: ‘Come, fox, I know that you are hungry, and that it is hard lines for you that you have not a fourth foot.’ He gave it bread and bacon to eat, a portion for himself, and a portion for the fox. When they had refreshed themselves a little, the fox said to him: ‘But, brother, tell me the truth: whither are you going?’ He said: ‘Thus and thus: I have a father and us three brothers; and one of my father’s eyes always laughs, because we serve him well, and the other eye weeps, because there has been stolen from him a vine belonging to him, which poured forth a bucket of wine every hour; and now I am going to ask people all over the world whether someone cannot inform me about this vine, that I may obtain it for my father, that his eye may not weep any longer.’

The fox said: ‘Well, I know where the vine is; follow me.’ He followed the fox, and they came to a large garden. Then the fox said: ‘There is the vine of which you are in search; but it is difficult to get to it. Do you now mark well what I am going to say to you. In the garden, before the vine is reached, it is necessary to pass twelve watches, and in each watch twelve warders. When the warders are looking, you can pass them freely, because they sleep with their eyes open. If they have their eyes closed, go not, for they are awake, not sleeping, with their eyes closed. When you come into the garden, there under the vine stand two shovels—one of wood, and the other of gold. But mind you don’t take the golden shovel to dig up the vine, for the shovel will ring, and will wake up the watch; the watch will seize you, and you may fare badly. But take the wooden shovel, and with it dig up the vine, and, when the watch is looking, come quietly to me outside, and you will have obtained the vine.’

He went into the garden, arrived at the first watch; the warders directed their eyes towards him; one would have thought they would have looked him to powder. But he went past them as past a stone, came to the second, third, and all the watches in succession, and arrived in the garden at the vine itself. The vine poured forth a bucket of wine every hour. He was too lazy to dig with the wooden shovel, but took the golden one, and as soon as he struck it into the ground, the shovel rang and woke the watch; the watch assembled, seized him, and delivered him to their lord.

The lord asked the simpleton: ‘How did you dare to pass so many watches, and come into the garden to take my vine away?’ The simpleton said: ‘It is not your vine, but my father’s; and my father’s left eye weeps, and will weep till I obtain him the vine, and I must do it; and if you don’t give me my father’s vine, I shall come again, and the second time I shall take it away.’ The lord said: ‘I cannot give you the vine. But if you procure me the golden apple-tree which blooms, ripens, and bears golden fruit every twenty-four hours, I will give it you.’

He went out to the fox, and the fox asked him: ‘Well, how is it?’ He answered: ‘No how. I went past the watch, and began to dig up the vine with the wooden shovel; but it was too long a job, and I took the golden shovel; the shovel rang and woke the watch; the watch seized me, and delivered me to their lord, and the lord promised to give me the vine, if I procured him the golden apple-tree which, every twenty-four hours, blooms, ripens, and bears golden fruit.’ The fox said: ‘But why did you not obey me? You see how nice it would have been to go to your father with the vine.’ He shook his head: ‘I see that I have done wrong; but I will do so no more.’ The fox said: ‘Come! now let us go to the golden apple-tree.’ The fox led him to a far handsomer garden than the first one, and told him that he must pass similarly through twelve similar watches. ‘And when you come in the garden,’ said she, ‘to where the golden apple-tree is, two very long poles stand there—one of gold, and the other of wood. Don’t take the golden one to beat the golden apple-tree, for the golden branch will emit a whistling sound, and will wake the watch, and you will fare ill; but take the wooden pole to beat the golden apple-tree, and then mind you come out immediately to me. If you do not obey me, I will not help you further.’ He said: ‘I will, fox, only that it may be mine to acquire the golden apple-tree to purchase the vine; I am impatient to go to my father.’ He went into the garden, and the fox stayed waiting for him outside. He passed the twelve watches, and also arrived at the apple-tree. But when he saw the apple-tree, and the golden apples on the apple-tree, he forgot for joy where he was, and hastily took the golden pole to beat the golden apple-tree. As soon as he had stripped a golden branch with the pole, the golden branch emitted a whistling sound, and woke the watch; the watch hastened up, seized and delivered him to the lord of the golden apple-tree.

The lord asked the simpleton: ‘How did you dare, and how were you able, to go into my garden in face of so many watches of mine, to beat the golden apple-trees?’ The simpleton said: ‘Thus and thus: my father’s left eye weeps because a vine has been stolen from him, which poured forth a bucket of wine every hour. That vine is kept in such and such a garden, and the lord of the garden and the vine said to me: “If you procure me the golden apple-tree which, every twenty-four hours, blooms, ripens, and produces golden fruit, I will give you the vine.” And, therefore, I have come to beat the golden apple-tree, to give the apple-tree for the vine, and to carry the vine to my father, that his left eye may not weep. And if you do not give me the golden apple-tree now, I shall come again to steal it.’

The lord said: ‘It is good, if it is so. Go you and procure me the golden horse which, in twenty-four hours, goes over the world, and I will give you the golden apple-tree; give the apple-tree for the vine, and take the vine to your father, that he may weep no more.’

Then he went outside, and the fox, awaiting him, said: ‘Now, then; how is it?’ ‘Not very well. The golden apple-trees are so beautiful that you can’t look at them for beauty. I forgot myself, and couldn’t take the wooden pole, as you told me, but took the golden pole to beat the golden apple-tree; the branch emitted a whistling sound, and woke the watch; the watch seized me, and delivered me to their lord, and the lord told me, if I procured him the golden horse which goes over the world in twenty-four hours, he would give me the golden apple-tree, that I may give the apple-tree for the vine to take to my father, that he may weep no more.’

Again the fox began to scold and reproach him: ‘Why did you not obey me? You see that you would have been by now at your father’s. And thus you torment both yourself and me.’ He said to the fox: ‘Only procure me the horse, fox, and I will always henceforth obey you.’

The fox led him to a large and horrible forest, and in the forest they found a farmyard. In this farmyard twelve watches, as in the case of the vine and the apple-tree, guarded the golden horse. The fox said: ‘Now you will pass the watches as before; go if they are looking; do not go if they have their eyes shut. When you enter the stable, there stands the golden horse, equipped with golden trappings. By the horse are two bridles—one of gold, and the other plaited of tow. Mind you don’t take the golden bridle, but the one of tow; if you bridle him with the golden bridle, the horse will neigh and will wake the watch; the watch will seize you, and who will be worse off than you? Don’t come into my sight without the horse!’ ‘I won’t, fox,’ said he, and went. He passed all the watches, and entered the stable where the horse was. When he was there, golden horse! golden wings! so beautiful, good heavens! that you couldn’t look at them for beauty! He saw the golden bridle; it was beautiful and ornamented; he saw also that of tow; it was dirty, and couldn’t be worse. Now he thought long what to do and how to do. ‘I can’t put that nasty thing’ (the tow bridle)—‘it’s so nasty!—on that beauty; I had rather not have him at all than put such a horse to shame.’ He took the golden bridle, bridled the golden horse, and mounted him. But the horse neighed, and woke the watch; the watch seized him and delivered him to their lord.

Then the lord said: ‘How did you have resolution to pass my numerous warders into my stable to take away my golden horse?’ The simpleton replied: ‘Need drove me; I have a father at home, and his left eye continually weeps, and will weep till I obtain for him a vine which in a day and night poured forth twenty-four buckets of wine; this vine has been stolen from him. Well, I have found it, and it has been told me that I shall obtain the vine if I procure the golden apple-tree for the lord of the vine. And the lord of the golden apple-tree said if I procured him the golden horse, he would give me the golden apple-tree. And I came from him to take away the golden horse, that I might give the golden horse for the golden apple-tree, and the golden apple-tree for the vine, to take it home and give it my father, that he may weep no more.’ The lord said: ‘Good; if it is so, I will give you my golden horse, if you procure me the golden damsel in her cradle, who has never yet seen either the sun or the moon, so that her face is not tanned.’ And the simpleton said: ‘I will procure you the golden damsel, but you must give me your golden horse, on which to seek the golden damsel and bring her to you. And a golden horse properly appertains to a golden damsel.’ The lord: ‘And how will you guarantee that you will return to me again?’ The simpleton: ‘Behold, I swear to you by my father’s eyesight, that I will return to you again, and either bring the horse, if I do not find the damsel, or give you the damsel, if I find her, for the horse.’ To this the lord agreed, and gave him the golden horse; he bridled it with the golden bridle, and came outside to the fox. The fox was impatiently expecting him, to know what had happened.

The fox: ‘Well, have you obtained the horse?’ The simpleton: ‘I have, but on condition that I procure for him the golden damsel in her cradle, who has never yet seen the sun or the moon, so that her face is not tanned. But if you know what need is, good friend, in the world, say whether she is anywhere, and whether you know of such a damsel.’ The fox said: ‘I know where the damsel is; only follow me.’ He followed, and they came to a large cavern. Now the fox said: ‘There the damsel is. You will go into that cavern, deep into the earth. You will pass the watches as before. In the last chamber lies the golden damsel in a golden cradle. By the damsel stands a huge spectre, which says: “No! No! No!” Now, don’t be at all afraid; it cannot do anything to you in any wise; but her wicked mother has placed it beside her daughter, that no one may venture to approach her to take her away. And the damsel is impatiently waiting to be released and freed from her mother’s cruelty. When you come back with the damsel in the cradle, push all the doors to behind you, that they may be shut, that the watch may not be able to come out after you in pursuit.’ He did so. He passed all the watches, entered the last chamber, and in the chamber was the damsel, rocking herself in a golden cradle, and on the way to the cradle stood a huge spectre, which said: ‘No! No! No!’ But he paid no attention to it. He took the cradle in his hands, seated himself with the cradle on the horse, and proceeded, pushed the doors to, and the doors closed from the first to the last, and out he flew with the damsel in the cradle before the fox. The fox was anxiously expecting him.

Now the fox said to him: ‘Are you not sorry to give so beautiful a damsel for the golden horse? But you will not otherwise be able to acquire the golden horse, because you have sworn by your father’s eyesight. But come! let me try whether I can’t be the golden damsel.’ She bounded hither and thither, and transformed herself into a golden damsel; everything about her was damsel-like, only her eyes were shaped like a fox’s eyes. He put her into the golden cradle, and left the real damsel under a tree to take charge of the golden horse. He went, he took away the golden cradle, and in the cradle the fox-damsel, delivered her to the lord of the golden horse, and absolved himself from the oath by his father’s eyesight. He returned to the horse and the damsel. Now that same lord of the golden horse, full of joy at acquiring the golden damsel, assembled all his lordship, prepared a grand banquet for their entertainment, and showed them what he had acquired in exchange for his golden horse. While the guests were gazing at the damsel, one of them scrutinized her attentively, and said: ‘All is damsel-like, and she is very beautiful, but her eyes are shaped like a fox’s eyes.’ No sooner had he said this, when up sprang the fox and ran away. The lord and the guests were enraged that he had said ‘fox’s eyes,’ and put him to death.

The fox ran to the simpleton, and on they went to give the golden horse for the golden apple-tree. They arrived at the place. Here again the fox said: ‘Now, you see, you have got possession of the golden damsel, but the golden horse properly appertains to the golden damsel. Are you sorry to give the golden horse?’ ‘Yes, fox; but though I am sorry, yet I wish my father not to weep.’ The fox: ‘But stay; let me try whether I can be the golden horse.’ She bounded hither and thither, and transformed herself into a golden horse, only she had a fox’s tail. Then she said: ‘Now lead me; let them give you the golden apple-tree, and I know when I shall come to you.’

He led off the fox-horse, delivered it to the lord of the golden apple-tree, and obtained the golden apple-tree. Now, the lord of the golden apple-tree was delighted at having acquired so beautiful a horse, and invited his whole lordship to a feast, to boast to them what a horse he had acquired. The guests began to gaze at the horse, and to wonder how beautiful he was. All at once one scrutinized his tail attentively, and said: ‘All is beautiful and all pleases me, only I should say that it is a fox’s tail!’ The moment he said that, the fox jumped up and ran away. But the guests were enraged at him for using the expression ‘fox’s tail,’ and put him to death. The fox came to the simpleton, and proceeded with the golden damsel, the horse, and the golden apple-tree to the vine.

Now again the fox said: ‘You see, now you have acquired the golden apple-tree. But the golden damsel is not appropriate without the golden horse, or the golden horse without the golden apple-tree. Are you sorry to give the golden apple-tree?’ The simpleton: ‘Yes, fox; but I must, to obtain the vine, that my father may not weep. I had rather that my father did not weep than all that I have.’ The fox said: ‘Stay! I will try whether I can be the golden apple-tree.’ She bounded hither and thither, and transformed herself into a golden apple-tree, and told him to take it away and give it for the vine. He took off the golden fox-apple-tree, and gave it to the lord of the vine, obtained the vine, and went away.

The lord for joy assembled his whole lordship, and prepared a grand feast, to display what a golden apple-tree he had acquired. The guests assembled and began to gaze at the apple-tree. But one scrutinized it attentively, and said: ‘All is beautiful, and cannot be more beautiful, only the fruit is in shape a fox’s head, and not like other apples.’ No sooner had he said this when up jumped the fox and ran away. But they were enraged at him and slew him, because he had said ‘fox’s head.’

Now the simpleton took leave of the fox and went home, having with him the golden damsel, the golden horse, the golden apple-tree, and the vine. When he arrived at the cross-road, where he had parted from his brothers when he went from home to seek the vine, he saw a multitude of people assembled, and he, too, went thither to see what was the matter. When he got there, his two brothers were standing condemned, and the people were going to hang them. He told the damsel that they were his brothers, and that he would like to ransom them. The damsel took a large quantity of treasure out of her bosom, and he ransomed his brothers, the malefactors, who had thought to acquire the vine by slaying, burning, and plundering. They envied him, but could not help themselves. They proceeded home. The simpleton planted the vine in the garden where it had been; the vine began to pour forth wine, and his father’s left eye ceased to weep and began to laugh. The apple-tree began to blossom, the golden horse to neigh, the damsel to sing, and there was love and beauty at the farmhouse. Everything was merry, everything was rejoicing and making progress.

All at once the father sent his sons to bring him from the country three ears of rye, that he might see what manner of season it would be. When they came to a well in the country, they told their simpleton brother to get them some water to drink. He stooped over the well to reach the water for them; they pushed him into the water and he was drowned. Immediately the vine ceased to pour forth wine, the father’s eye began to weep, the apple-tree drooped, the horse ceased to neigh, the damsel began to weep, and everything lost its cheerful appearance. Thereupon that self-same lame fox came up, got down into the well, gently drew her adopted brother out, poured the water out of him, placed him on the fresh grass, and he revived. As soon as he revived the fox was transformed into a very beautiful damsel. Then she related to him how her mother had cursed her because she had rescued her greatest enemy from death. She was cursed, and was transformed into a cunning fox, and limped on three feet until she should rescue her benefactor from a watery death. ‘And, lo! I have rescued you, my adopted brother. Now, adieu!’ She went her way, and the simpleton his way to his father, and when he arrived at the farmhouse the vine began again to pour forth wine, his father’s eye to laugh [the golden apple-tree to bloom], the golden horse to neigh, and the golden damsel to sing. He told his father what his brothers had done to him on the way, and how a damsel had rescued him and freed herself from a curse. When his father heard this he drove the two villains into the world. But he married the simpleton to the golden damsel, with whom he lived long in happiness and content.

XLI.—THE SONS’ OATH TO THEIR DYING FATHER.

There was an old man who had three sons and one daughter. When the time came for the old man to die, he summoned all his three sons, and made them promise under oath to give their sister to the first who came to ask for her, whoever he might be. When some time had elapsed after the father’s death, an old man arrived in a two-wheeler, and asked for the maiden in marriage. The two elder brothers would not give her to him immediately, because he was old and poor; but the youngest insisted that they should give her to him, reminding them of the oath they had sworn to their father. And so they gave her in marriage to the old man, and the old man took her away to his home. After some time, the elder brother went on a visit to his sister. When he got there, it was a large house, and couldn’t be better. The sister was greatly delighted when she saw her brother, and when he inquired of her how she was getting on, she replied: ‘Excellently; it can’t be better.’ When the brother arrived at his sister’s, the old man was not at home, but soon afterwards arrived, and was very pleased when he saw his wife’s brother, and said to him: ‘We will feast and be merry; but first you shall go on my horse to fetch him some grass, but you must cut it where the horse paws with his foot, and not where you please.’ His wife’s brother said to him: ‘Good! brother-in-law, I will.’ He then mounted the horse and went off. As on he went, he came to a silver bridge. When he espied the bridge and saw that it was all of silver, he became covetous, dismounted, and pulled off a silver plate, saying: ‘I may benefit myself.’ Afterwards he cut grass where he pleased, without waiting till the horse pawed with his foot, mounted the horse again, and returned back. On arriving at the house, he put the horse in the stable, placed the grass before him, and went off into the house. When he arrived in the house, the old man asked him whether he had satisfied the horse, and whether the horse was eating the grass. He replied, ‘Yes,’ and that the horse was eating. The old man said: ‘It is good that I also look.’ He then went into the stable. When he got there, the horse had not touched it. The old man understood that the grass had not been cut where he had told him; he therefore at once sent off his brother-in-law supperless, to go back whence he had come. On reaching home, he didn’t tell his brothers how he had fared at his brother-in-law’s, but said to the middle brother: ‘Our brother-in-law salutes you, and wishes you to go to be his guest.’ After some time, the middle brother went on a visit to his sister; but he, too, fared even as the first one. His sister’s husband sent him, too, for grass, and when he got to the silver bridge, he, too, became covetous, like the first, pulled off a silver plate, and did not cut the grass as his brother-in-law told him, but where he thought fit. When he came back to his brother-in-law’s house, his brother-in-law caught him, too, out in a lie, and sent him home supperless, like the first one. When he got home, he told nobody how he had fared at his brother-in-law’s, but said to the youngest brother: ‘Our brother-in-law salutes you, and wishes you to go to visit him.’

After some time, the youngest brother, too, went off. When his sister espied him, she said to him: ‘Only, brother, be sure not to do as our two brothers have done.’ He didn’t know what they had done, and his sister would not tell him anything more. When his sister’s husband came home, he, too, was delighted with his wife’s brother, and said to him: ‘We will feast and be merry, only go first on my horse and fetch him some grass; but you will cut it there where the horse paws with his foot, and not where you please.’ He mounted the horse and went off for the grass. When he arrived at the bridge, he was astonished at its beauty, but was quite sorry that it hadn’t those two plates; and when he came to the middle, he looked on one side and the other, and saw under it, where water was bubbling in a huge caldron, and human heads boiling in it, and eagles pecking them from above. Afterwards, having passed over the bridge, he came to a village, and, as he passed through it, saw that there everything was sad and sorrowful, and wondered thereat, and asked a man: ‘How is this, brother, that all is so sorrowful with you?’ He replied: ‘How should it not be sorrowful, when hail smites us every hour, and we have nothing.’ When he came out of the village, he found two pigs on the road, and they were fighting without ceasing. He tried to part them, but in vain, and, being unable to part them, went on further. Thus proceeding, he came to another village, and, as he went through, heard on all sides singing and merriment, and said to someone: ‘I went through one village and found everything sorrowful, and why is all so merry with you?’ The villager answered him: ‘Why should it not be so, when every hour is productive to us, and we have all in abundance?’ Finally, the horse carried him to a very beautiful meadow. When they were in the middle of the meadow, the horse stood still and pawed with his foot, and he dismounted and cut grass, and returned back to the house. When he got to the house, he led the horse into the stable, laid the grass before him, and the horse immediately began to eat. When his sister’s husband saw that he had satisfied the horse, he was very pleased, and said to him: ‘You are my true brother-in-law; now let us be merry and feast.’ Then they sat down to table and began to sup. At supper the old man said to him: ‘Now, tell me what you have seen.’ He answered him: ‘Oh, my brother-in-law! what I have seen cannot be expressed. First I saw a very beautiful silver bridge, but it was disfigured where it wanted a pair of plates. Whoever took these away, the living God hath slain him!’ The old man thereupon told him: ‘Your two brothers stole them. As they have done, so have they fared. But tell me what you saw next.’ His wife’s brother replied: ‘At the middle under the bridge I saw a huge caldron, where it was bubbling, and in it the heads of dead people, and eagles were pecking them from above.’ Thereupon his sister’s husband said: ‘Those are the eternal torments in that world. What did you see more?’ His wife’s brother continued: ‘I saw a village, and in it everything miserable.’ The old man said to him: ‘There there is no union and no truth, nor knowledge of God. What did you see further?’ His wife’s brother said to him further: ‘I saw two pigs fighting without ceasing.’ His sister’s husband replied: ‘Those are two brothers who do not live in concord. What did you see further?’ ‘I saw another village, and in it all was cheerful.’ His sister’s husband said to that: ‘Those are people after God’s will; they gladly welcome and entertain everybody, and do not drive the poor empty-handed from before their houses. Tell me what you saw further.’ His wife’s brother said to him: ‘I saw a very beautiful meadow. I would stay there three days to view such beauty.’ His sister’s husband replied: ‘That is the paradise of that world, but it is difficult to attain to it.’ After this they enjoyed each other’s society for many days. Finally, the wife’s brother declared that he must go home, and his sister’s husband presented him with a large gift, and told him that he recognised him immediately for an honourable man, because he had insisted that his father’s directions, which he had sworn to observe, should be carried out, and that he would be prosperous, and his two brothers unprosperous.