The Crimson Fairy Book
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The next day some of the cattle were driven to market and sold,
and with the money the old man was able to buy some of the fields
and gardens round his house, and in a few months had grown the
richest and most prosperous man in the whole village. Everything
seemed to turn to gold in his hands, till one day, when he and his
son were sitting in the orchard watching their herds of cattle
grazing in the meadows, he suddenly said: ' Peter, my boy, it is time
that you were thinking of marrying.'
'But, my dear father, I told you I can never marry, because of the
promise I gave to Eisenkopf.'
'Oh, one promises here and promises there, but no one ever thinks
of keeping such promises. If Eisenkopf does not like your
marrying, he will have to put up with it all the same! Besides, there
stands in the stable a grey horse which is saddled night and day; and
if Eisenkopf should show his face, you have only got to jump on the
horse's back and ride away, and nobody on earth can catch you.
When all is safe you will come back again, and we shall live as
happily as two fish in the sea.'
And so it all happened. The young man found a pretty,
brown-skinned girl who was willing to have him for a husband, and
the whole village came to the wedding feast. The music was at its
gayest, and the dance at its merriest, when Eisenkopf looked in at
the window.
'Oh, ho, my brother! what is going on here? It has the air of being a
wedding feast. Yet I fancied--was I mistaken?--that you had given
me a promise that you never would marry.' But Peter had not
waited for the end of this speech. Scarcely had he seen Eisenkopf
than he darted like the wind to the stable and flung himself on the
horse's back. In another moment he was away over the mountain,
with Eisenkopf running fast behind him.
On they went through thick forests where the sun never shone, over
rivers so wide that it took a whole day to sail across them, up hills
whose sides were all of glass; on they went through seven times
seven countries till Peter reined in his horse before the house of an
old woman.
'Good day, mother,' said he, jumping down and opening the door.
'Good day, my son,' answered she, 'and what are you doing here, at
the world's end?'
'I am flying for my life, mother, flying to the world which is beyond
all worlds; for Eisenkopf is at my heels.'
'Come in and rest then, and have some food, for I have a little dog
who will begin to howl when Eisenkopf is still seven miles off.'
So Peter went in and warmed himself and ate and drank, till
suddenly the dog began to howl.
'Quick, my son, quick, you must go,' cried the old woman. And the
lightning itself was not quicker than Peter.
'Stop a moment,' cried the old woman again, just as he was
mounting his horse, 'take this napkin and this cake, and put them in
your bag where you can get hold of them easily.' Peter took them
and put them into his bag, and waving his thanks for her kindness,
he was off like the wind.
Round and round he rode, through seven times seven countries,
through forests still thicker, and rivers still wider, and mountains
still more slippery than the others he had passed, till at length he
reached a house where dwelt another old woman.
'Good day, mother,' said he.
'Good day, my son! What are you seeking here at the world's end?'
'I am flying for my life, mother, flying to the world that is beyond all
worlds, for Eisenkopf is at my heels.'
'Come in, my son, and have some food. I have a little dog who will
begin to howl when Eisenkopf is still seven miles off; so lie on this
bed and rest yourself in peace.'
Then she went to the kitchen and baked a number of cakes, more
than Peter could have eaten in a whole month. He had not finished
a quarter of them, when the dog began to howl.
'Now, my son, you must go,' cried the old woman 'but first put
these cakes and this napkin in your bag, where you can easily get at
them.' So Peter thanked her and was off like the wind.
On he rode, through seven times seven countries, till he came to the
house of a third old woman, who welcomed him as the others had
done. But when the dog howled, and Peter sprang up to go, she
said, as she gave him the same gifts for his journey: 'You have now
three cakes and three napkins, for I know that my sisters have each
given you one. Listen to me, and do what I tell you. Ride seven
days and nights straight before you, and on the eighth morning you
will see a great fire. Strike it three times with the three napkins and
it will part in two. Then ride into the opening, and when you are in
the middle of the opening, throw the three cakes behind your back
with your left hand.'
Peter thanked her for her counsel, and was careful to do exactly all
the old woman had told him. On the eighth morning he reached a
fire so large that he could see nothing else on either side, but when
he struck it with the napkins it parted, and stood on each hand like
a wall. As he rode through the opening he threw the cakes behind
him. From each cake there sprang a huge dog, and he gave them
the names of World's-weight, Ironstrong, and Quick-ear. They
bayed with joy at the sight of him, and as Peter turned to pat them,
he beheld Eisenkopf at the edge of the fire, but the opening had
closed up behind Peter, and he could not get through.
'Stop, you promise-breaker,' shrieked he; 'you have slipped
through my hands once, but wait till I catch you again!'
Then he lay down by the fire and watched to see what would
happen.
When Peter knew that he had nothing more to fear from Eisenkopf,
he rode on slowly till he came to a small white house. Here he
entered and found himself in a room where a gray-haired woman
was spinning and a beautiful girl was sitting in the window combing
her golden hair.
'What brings you here, my son?' asked the old woman.
'I am seeking for a place, mother,' answered Peter.
'Stay with me, then, for I need a servant,' said the old woman.
'With pleasure, mother,' replied he.
After that Peter's life was a very happy one. He sowed and
ploughed all day, except now and then when he took his dogs and
went to hunt. And whatever game he brought back the maiden
with the golden hair knew how to dress it.
One day the old woman had gone to the town to buy some flour,
and Peter and the maiden were left alone in the house. They fell
into talk, and she asked him where his home was, and how he had
managed to come through the fire. Peter then told her the whole
story, and of his striking the flames with the three napkins as he had
been told to do. The maiden listened attentively and wondered in
herself whether what he said was true. So after Peter had gone out
to the fields, she crept up to his room and stole the napkins and
then set off as fast as she could to the fire by a path she knew of
over the hill.
At the third blow she gave the flames divided, and Eisenkopf, who
had been watching and hoping for a chance of this kind, ran down
the opening and stood before her. At this sight the maiden was
almost frightened to death, but with a great effort she recovered
herself and ran home as fast as her legs would carry her, closely
pursued by Eisenkopf. Panting for breath she rushed into the house
and fell fainting on the floor; but Eisenkopf entered behind her, and
hid himself in the kitchen under the hearth.
Not long after, Peter came in and picked up the three napkins which
the maiden had dropped on the threshold. He wondered how they
got there, for he knew he had left them in his room; but what was
his horror when he saw the form of the fainting girl lying where she
had dropped, as still and white as if she had been dead. He lifted
her up and carried her to her bed, where she soon revived, but she
did not tell Peter about Eisenkopf, who had been almost crushed to
death under the hearth-stone by the body of World's-weight.
The next morning Peter locked up his dogs and went out into the
forest alone. Eisenkopf, however, had seen him go, and followed
so closely at his heels that Peter had barely time to clamber up a tall
tree, where Eisenkopf could not reach him. 'Come down at once,
you gallows bird,' he cried. 'Have you forgotten your promise that
you never would marry?'
'Oh, I know it is all up with me,' answered Peter, 'but let me call
out three times.'
'You can call a hundred times if you like,' returned Eisenkopf, 'for
now I have got you in my power, and you shall pay for what you
have done.'
'Iron-strong, World's-weight, Quick-ear, fly to my help!' cried
Peter; and Quick-ear heard, and said to his brothers: 'Listen, our
master is calling us.'
'You are dreaming, fool,' answered World's-weight; 'why he has not
finished his breakfast.' And he gave Quick-ear a slap with his paw,
for he was young and needed to be taught sense.
'Iron-strong, World's-weight, Quick-ear, fly to my help!' cried Peter
again.
This time World's-weight heard also, and he said, 'Ah, now our
master is really calling.'
'How silly you are!' answered Iron-strong; 'you know that at this
hour he is always eating.' And he gave World's-weight a cuff,
because he was old enough to know better.
Peter sat trembling on the tree dreading lest his dogs had never
heard, or else that, having heard, they had refused to come. It was
his last chance, so making a mighty effort he shrieked once more:
'Iron-strong, World's-weight, Quick-ear, fly to my help, or I am a
dead man!'
And Iron-strong heard, and said: 'Yes, he is certainly calling, we
must go at once.' And in an instant he had burst open the door, and
all three were bounding away in the direction of the voice. When
they reached the foot of the tree Peter just said: 'At him!' And in a
few minutes there was nothing left of Eisenkopf.
As soon as his enemy was dead Peter got down and returned to the
house, where he bade farewell to the old woman and her daughter,
who gave him a beautiful ring, all set with diamonds. It was really a
magic ring, but neither Peter nor the maiden knew that.
Peter's heart was heavy as he set out for home. He had ceased to
love the wife whom he had left at his wedding feast, and his heart
had gone out to the golden-haired girl. However, it was no use
thinking of that, so he rode forward steadily.
The fire had to be passed through before he had gone very far, and
when he came to it, Peter shook the napkins three times in the
flames and a passage opened for trim. But then a curious thing
happened; the three dogs, who had followed at his heels all the way,
now became three cakes again, which Peter put into his bag with
the napkins. After that he stopped at the houses of the three old
women, and gave each one back her napkin and her cake.
'Where is my wife?' asked Peter, when he reached home.
'Oh, my dear son, why did you ever leave us? After you had
vanished, no one knew where, your poor wife grew more and more
wretched, and would neither eat nor drink. Little by little she faded
away, and a month ago we laid her in her grave, to hide her
sorrows under the earth.'
At this news Peter began to weep, for he had loved his wife before
he went away and had seen the golden-haired maiden.
He went sorrowfully about his work for the space of half a year,
when, one night, he dreamed that he moved the diamond ring given
him by the maiden from his right hand and put it on the wedding
finger of the left. The dream was so real that he awoke at once and
changed the ring from one hand to the other. And as he did so
guess what he saw? Why, the golden-haired girl standing before
him. And he sprang up and kissed her, and said: 'Now you are mine
for ever and ever, and when we die we will both be buried in one
grave.'
And so they were.
[From Ungarische Mahrchen.]
The Death Of Abu Nowas And Of His Wife
Once upon a time there lived a man whose name was Abu Nowas,
and he was a great favourite with the Sultan of the country, who
had a palace in the same town where Abu Nowas dwelt.
One day Abu Nowas came weeping into the hall of the palace
where the Sultan was sitting, and said to him: 'Oh, mighty Sultan,
my wife is dead.'
'That is bad news,' replied the Sultan; 'I must get you another wife.'
And he bade his Grand Vizir send for the Sultana.
'This poor Abu Nowas has lost his wife,' said he, when she entered
the hall.
'Oh, then we must get him another,' answered the Sultana; 'I have a
girl that will suit him exactly,' and clapped her hands loudly. At this
signal a maiden appeared and stood before her.
'I have got a husband for you,' said the Sultana.
'Who is he?' asked the girl.
'Abu Nowas, the jester,' replied the Sultana.
'I will take him,' answered the maiden; and as Abu Nowas made no
objection, it was all arranged. The Sultana had the most beautiful
clothes made for the bride, and the Sultan gave the bridegroom his
wedding suit, and a thousand gold pieces into the bargain, and soft
carpets for the house.
So Abu Nowas took his wife home, and for some time they were
very happy, and spent the money freely which the Sultan had given
them, never thinking what they should do for more when that was
gone. But come to an end it did, and they had to sell their fine
things one by one, till at length nothing was left but a cloak apiece,
and one blanket to cover them. 'We have run through our fortune,'
said Abu Nowas, 'what are we to do now? I am afraid to go back
to the Sultan, for he will command his servants to turn me from the
door. But you shall return to your mistress, and throw yourself at
her feet and weep, and perhaps she will help us.'
'Oh, you had much better go,' said the wife. 'I shall not know what
to say.'
'Well, then, stay at home, if you like,' answered Abu Nowas, 'and I
will ask to be admitted to the Sultan's presence, and will tell him,
with sobs, that my wife is dead, and that I have no money for her
burial. When he hears that perhaps he will give us something.'
'Yes, that is a good plan,' said the wife; and Abu Nowas set out.
The Sultan was sitting in the hall of justice when Abu Nowas
entered, his eyes streaming with tears, for he had rubbed some
pepper into them. They smarted dreadfully, and he could hardly see
to walk straight, and everyone wondered what was the matter with
him.
'Abu Nowas! What has happened?' cried the Sultan.
'Oh, noble Sultan, my wife is dead,' wept he.
'We must all die,' answered the Sultan; but this was not the reply
for which Abu Nowas had hoped.
'True, O Sultan, but I have neither shroud to wrap her in, nor
money to bury her with,' went on Abu Nowas, in no wise abashed
by the way the Sultan had received his news.
'Well, give him a hundred pieces of gold,' said the Sultan, turning to
the Grand Vizir. And when the money was counted out Abu
Nowas bowed low, and left the hall, his tears still flowing, but with
joy in his heart.
'Have you got anything?' cried his wife, who was waiting for him
anxiously.
'Yes, a hundred gold pieces,' said he, throwing down the bag, 'but
that will not last us any time. Now you must go to the Sultana,
clothed in sackcloth and robes of mourning, and tell her that your
husband, Abu Nowas, is dead, and you have no money for his
burial. When she hears that, she will be sure to ask you what has
become of the money and the fine clothes she gave us on our
marriage, and you will answer, "before he died he sold everything."'
The wife did as she was told, and wrapping herself in sackcloth
went up to the Sultana's own palace, and as she was known to have
been one of Subida's favourite attendants, she was taken without
difficulty into the private apartments.
'What is the matter?' inquired the Sultana, at the sight of the dismal
figure.
'My husband lies dead at home, and he has spent all our money, and
sold everything, and I have nothing left to bury him with,' sobbed
the wife.
Then Subida took up a purse containing two hundred gold pieces,
and said: 'Your husband served us long and faithfully. You must
see that he has a fine funeral.'
The wife took the money, and, kissing the feet of the Sultana, she
joyfully hastened home. They spent some happy hours planning
how they should spend it, and thinking how clever they had been.
'When the Sultan goes this evening to Subida's palace,' said Abu
Nowas, 'she will be sure to tell him that Abu Nowas is dead. "Not
Abu Nowas, it is his wife," he will reply, and they will quarrel over
it, and all the time we shall be sitting here enjoying ourselves. Oh,
if they only knew, how angry they would be!'
As Abu Nowas had foreseen, the Sultan went, in the evening after
his business was over, to pay his usual visit to the Sultana.
'Poor Abu Nowas is dead!' said Subida when he entered the room.
'It is not Abu Nowas, but his wife who is dead,' answered the
Sultan.
'No; really you are quite wrong. She came to tell me herself only a
couple of hours ago,' replied Subida, 'and as he had spent all their
money, I gave her something to bury him with.'
'You must be dreaming,' exclaimed the Sultan. 'Soon after midday
Abu Nowas came into the hall, his eyes streaming with tears, and
when I asked him the reason he answered that his wife was dead,
and they had sold everything they had, and he had nothing left, not
so much as would buy her a shroud, far less for her burial.'
For a long time they talked, and neither would listen to the other,
till the Sultan sent for the door-keeper and bade him go instantly to
the house of Abu Nowas and see if it was the man or his wife who
was dead. But Abu Nowas happened to be sitting with his wife
behind the latticed window, which looked on the street, and he saw
the man coming, and sprang up at once. 'There is the Sultan's
door-keeper! They have sent him here to find out the truth. Quick!
throw yourself on the bed and pretend that you are dead.' And in a
moment the wife was stretched out stiffly, with a linen sheet spread
across her, like a corpse.
She was only just in time, for the sheet was hardly drawn across her
when the door opened and the porter came in. 'Has anything
happened?' asked he.
'My poor wife is dead,' replied Abu Nowas. 'Look! she is laid out
here.' And the porter approached the bed, which was in a corner of
the room, and saw the stiff form lying underneath.
'We must all die,' said he, and went back to the Sultan.
'Well, have you found out which of them is dead?' asked the Sultan.
'Yes, noble Sultan; it is the wife,' replied the porter.
'He only says that to please you,' cried Subida in a rage; and calling
to her chamberlain, she ordered him to go at once to the dwelling of
Abu Nowas and see which of the two was dead. 'And be sure you
tell the truth about it,' added she, 'or it will be the worse for you.'
As her chamberlain drew near the house, Abu Nowas caught sight
of him. 'There is the Sultana's chamberlain,' he exclaimed in a
fright. 'Now it is my turn to die. Be quick and spread the sheet
over me.' And he laid himself on the bed, and held his breath when
the chamberlain came in. 'What are you weeping for?' asked the
man, finding the wife in tears.
'My husband is dead,' answered she, pointing to the bed; and the
chamberlain drew back the sheet and beheld Abu Nowas lying stiff
and motionless. Then he gently replaced the sheet and returned to
the palace.
'Well, have you found out this time?' asked the Sultan.
'My lord, it is the husband who is dead.'
'But I tell you he was with me only a few hours ago,' cried the
Sultan angrily. 'I must get to the bottom of this before I sleep! Let
my golden coach be brought round at once.'
The coach was before the door in another five minutes, and the
Sultan and Sultana both got in. Abu Nowas had ceased being a
dead man, and was looking into the street when he saw the coach
coming. 'Quick! quick!' he called to his wife. 'The Sultan will be
here directly, and we must both be dead to receive him.' So they
laid themselves down, and spread the sheet over them, and held
their breath. At that instant the Sultan entered, followed by the
Sultana and the chamberlain, and he went up to the bed and found
the corpses stiff and motionless. 'I would give a thousand gold
pieces to anyone who would tell me the truth about this,' cried he,
and at the words Abu Nowas sat up. 'Give them to me, then,' said
he, holding out his hand. 'You cannot give them to anyone who
needs them more.'
'Oh, Abu Nowas, you impudent dog!' exclaimed the Sultan,
bursting into a laugh, in which the Sultana joined. 'I might have
known it was one of your tricks!' But he sent Abu Nowas the gold
he had promised, and let us hope that it did not fly so fast as the last
had done.
[From Tunische Mahrchen.]
Motiratika
Once upon a time, in a very hot country, a man lived with his wife
in a little hut, which was surrounded by grass and flowers. They
were perfectly happy together till, by-and-by, the woman fell ill and
refused to take any food. The husband tried to persuade her to eat
all sorts of delicious fruits that he had found in the forest, but she
would have none of them, and grew so thin he feared she would
die. 'Is there nothing you would like?' he said at last in despair.
'Yes, I think I could eat some wild honey,' answered she. The
husband was overjoyed, for he thought this sounded easy enough to
get, and he went off at once in search of it.
He came back with a wooden pan quite full, and gave it to his wife.
'I can't eat that,' she said, turning away in disgust. 'Look! there are
some dead bees in it! I want honey that is quite pure.' And the man
threw the rejected honey on the grass, and started off to get some
fresh. When he got back he offered it to his wife, who treated it as
she had done the first bowlful. 'That honey has got ants in it: throw
it away,' she said, and when he brought her some more, she
declared it was full of earth. In his fourth journey he managed to
find some that she would eat, and then she begged him to get her
some water. This took him some time, but at length he came to a
lake whose waters were sweetened with sugar. He filled a pannikin
quite full, and carried it home to his wife, who drank it eagerly, and
said that she now felt quite well. When she was up and had dressed
herself, her husband lay down in her place, saying: 'You have given
me a great deal of trouble, and now it is my turn!'
'What is the matter with you?' asked the wife.
'I am thirsty and want some water,' answered he; and she took a
large pot and carried it to the nearest spring, which was a good way
off. 'Here is the water,' she said to her husband, lifting the heavy
pot from her head; but he turned away in disgust.
'You have drawn it from the pool that is full of frogs and willows;
you must get me some more.' So the woman set out again and
walked still further to another lake.
'This water tastes of rushes,' he exclaimed, 'go and get some fresh.'
But when she brought back a third supply he declared that it
seemed made up of water-lilies, and that he must have water that
was pure, and not spoilt by willows, or frogs, or rushes. So for the
fourth time she put her jug on her head, and passing all the lakes
she had hitherto tried, she came to another, where the water was
golden like honey. She stooped down to drink, when a horrible
head bobbed up on the surface.
'How dare you steal my water?' cried the head.
'It is my husband who has sent me,' she replied, trembling all over.
'But do not kill me! You shall have my baby, if you will only let me
go.'
'How am I to know which is your baby?' asked the Ogre.
'Oh, that is easily managed. I will shave both sides of his head, and
hang some white beads round his neck. And when you come to the
hut you have only to call "Motikatika!" and he will run to meet you,
and you can eat him.'
'Very well,' said the ogre, 'you can go home.' And after filling the
pot she returned, and told her husband of the dreadful danger she
had been in.
Now, though his mother did not know it, the baby was a magician
and he had heard all that his mother had promised the ogre; and he
laughed to himself as he planned how to outwit her.
The next morning she shaved his head on both sides, and hung the
white beads round his neck, and said to him: 'I am going to the
fields to work, but you must stay at home. Be sure you do not go
outside, or some wild beast may eat you.'
'Very well,' answered he.
As soon as his mother was out of sight, the baby took out some
magic bones, and placed them in a row before him. 'You are my
father,' he told one bone, 'and you are my mother. You are the
biggest,' he said to the third, 'so you shall be the ogre who wants to
eat me; and you,' to another, 'are very little, therefore you shall be
me. Now, then, tell me what I am to do.'
'Collect all the babies in the village the same size as yourself,'
answered the bones; 'shave the sides of their heads, and hang white
beads round their necks, and tell them that when anybody calls
"Motikatika," they are to answer to it. And be quick for you have
no time to lose.'
Motikatika went out directly, and brought back quite a crowd of
babies, and shaved their heads and hung white beads round their
little black necks, and just as he had finished, the ground began to
shake, and the huge ogre came striding along, crying: 'Motikatika!
Motikatika!'
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