|
Once upon
a time...
There was an old man who lived in a little hut in the middle
of a forest. His wife was dead, and he had only one son, whom he
loved dearly. Near their hut was a group of birch trees, in which
some black-game had made their nests, and the youth had often begged
his father's permission to shoot the birds, but the old man always
strictly forbade him to do anything of the kind.
One day, however, when the father had gone to a little distance to
collect some sticks for the fire, the boy fetched his bow, and shot
at a bird that was just flying towards its nest. But he had not
taken proper aim, and the bird was only wounded, and fluttered along
the ground. The boy ran to catch it, but though he ran very fast,
and the bird seemed to flutter along very slowly, he never could
quite come up with it; it was always just a little in advance. But
so absorbed was he in the chase that he did not notice for some time
that he was now deep in the forest, in a place where he had never
been before. Then he felt it would be foolish to go any further, and
he turned to find his way home.
He thought it would be easy enough to follow the path along which he
had come, but somehow it was always branching off in unexpected
directions. He looked about for a house where he might stop and ask
his way, but there was not a sign of one anywhere, and he was afraid
to stand still, for it was cold, and there were many stories of
wolves being seen in that part of the forest. Night fell, and he was
beginning to start at every sound, when suddenly a magician came
running towards him, with a pack of wolves snapping at his heels.
Then all the boy's courage returned to him. He took his bow, and
aiming an arrow at the largest wolf, shot him through the heart, and
a few more arrows soon put the rest to flight. The magician was full
of gratitude to his deliverer, and promised him a reward for his
help if the youth would go back with him to his house.
'Indeed there is nothing that would be more welcome to me than a
night's lodging,' answered the boy; 'I have been wandering all day
in the forest, and did not know how to get home again.
'Come with me, you must be hungry as well as tired,' said the
magician, and led the way to his house, where the guest flung
himself on a bed, and went fast asleep. But his host returned to the
forest to get some food, for the larder was empty.
While he was absent the housekeeper went to the boy's room and tried
to wake him. She stamped on the floor, and shook him and called to
him, telling him that he was in great danger, and must take flight
at once. But nothing would rouse him, and if he did ever open his
eyes he shut them again directly.
Soon after, the magician came back from the forest, and told the
housekeeper to bring them something to eat. The meal was quickly
ready, and the magician called to the boy to come down and eat it,
but he could not be wakened, and they had to sit down to supper
without him. By-and-by the magician went out into the wood again for
some more hunting, and on his return he tried afresh to waken the
youth. But finding it quite impossible, he went back for the third
time to the forest.
While he was absent the boy woke up and dressed himself. Then he
came downstairs and began to talk to the housekeeper. The girl had
heard how he had saved her master's life, so she said nothing more
about his running away, but instead told him that if the magician
offered him the choice of a reward, he was to ask for the horse
which stood in the third stall of the stable.
By-and-by the old man came back and they all sat down to dinner.
When they had finished the magician said: 'Now, my son, tell me what
you will have as the reward of your courage?'
'Give me the horse that stands in the third stall of your stable,'
answered the youth. 'For I have a long way to go before I get home,
and my feet will not carry me so far.'
'Ah! my son,' replied the magician, 'it is the best horse in my
stable that you want! Will not anything else please you as well?'
But the youth declared that it was the horse, and the horse only,
that he desired, and in the end the old man gave way. And besides
the horse, the magician gave him a zither, a fiddle, and a flute,
saying: 'If you are in danger, touch the zither; and if no one comes
to your aid, then play on the fiddle; but if that brings no help,
blow on the flute.'
The youth thanked the magician, and fastening his treasures about
him mounted the horse and rode off. He had already gone some miles
when, to his great surprise, the horse spoke, and said: 'It is no
use your returning home just now, your father will only beat you.
Let us visit a few towns first, and something lucky will be sure to
happen to us.'
This advice pleased the boy, for he felt himself almost a man by
this time, and thought it was high time he saw the world. When they
entered the capital of the country everyone stopped to admire the
beauty of the horse. Even the king heard of it, and came to see the
splendid creature with his own eyes. Indeed, he wanted directly to
buy it, and told the youth he would give any price he liked. The
young man hesitated for a moment, but before he could speak, the
horse contrived to whisper to him:
'Do not sell me, but ask the king to take me to his stable, and feed
me there; then his other horses will become just as beautiful as I.'
The king was delighted when he was told what the horse had said, and
took the animal at once to the stables, and placed it in his own
particular stall. Sure enough, the horse had scarcely eaten a
mouthful of corn out of the manger, when the rest of the horses
seemed to have undergone a transformation. Some of them were old
favourites which the king had ridden in many wars, and they bore the
signs of age and of service. But now they arched their heads, and
pawed the ground with their slender legs as they had been wont to do
in days long gone by. The king's heart beat with delight, but the
old groom who had had the care of them stood crossly by, and eyed
the owner of this wonderful creature with hate and envy. Not a day
passed without his bringing some story against the youth to his
master, but the king understood all about the matter and paid no
attention. At last the groom declared that the young man had boasted
that he could find the king's war horse which had strayed into the
forest several years ago, and had not been heard of since. Now the
king had never ceased to mourn for his horse, so this time he
listened to the tale which the groom had invented, and sent for the
youth. 'Find me my horse in three days,' said he, 'or it will be the
worse for you.'
The youth was thunderstruck at this command, but he only bowed, and
went off at once to the stable.
'Do not worry yourself,' answered his own horse. 'Ask the king to
give you a hundred oxen, and to let them be killed and cut into
small pieces. Then we will start on our journey, and ride till we
reach a certain river. There a horse will come up to you, but take
no notice of him. Soon another will appear, and this also you must
leave alone, but when the third horse shows itself, throw my bridle
over it.'
Everything happened just as the horse had said, and the third horse
was safely bridled. Then the other horse spoke again: 'The
magician's raven will try to eat us as we ride away, but throw it
some of the oxen's flesh, and then I will gallop like the wind, and
carry you safe out of the dragon's clutches.'
So the young man did as he was told, and brought the horse back to
the king.
The old stableman was very jealous, when he heard of it, and
wondered what he could do to injure the youth in the eyes of his
royal master. At last he hit upon a plan, and told the king that the
young man had boasted that he could bring home the king's wife, who
had vanished many months before, without leaving a trace behind her.
Then the king bade the young man come into his presence, and desired
him to fetch the queen home again, as he had boasted he could do.
And if he failed, his head would pay the penalty.
The poor youth's heart stood still as he listened. Find the queen?
But how was he to do that, when nobody in the palace had been able
to do so! Slowly he walked to the stable, and laying his head on his
horse's shoulder, he said: 'The king has ordered me to bring his
wife home again, and how can I do that when she disappeared so long
ago, and no one can tell me anything about her?'
'Cheer up!' answered the horse, 'we will manage to find her. You
have only got to ride me back to the same river that we went to
yesterday, and I will plunge into it and take my proper shape again.
For I am the king's wife, who was turned into a horse by the
magician from whom you saved me.'
Joyfully the young man sprang into the saddle and rode away to the
banks of the river. Then he threw himself off, and waited while the
horse plunged in. The moment it dipped its head into the water its
black skin vanished, and the most beautiful woman in the world was
floating on the water. She came smiling towards the youth, and held
out her hand, and he took it and led her back to the palace. Great
was the king's surprise and happiness when he beheld his lost wife
stand before him, and in gratitude to her rescuer he loaded him with
gifts.
You would have thought that after this the poor youth would have
been left in peace; but no, his enemy the stableman hated him as
much as ever, and laid a new plot for his undoing. This time he
presented himself before the king and told him that the youth was so
puffed up with what he had done that he had declared he would seize
the king's throne for himself.
At this news the king waxed so furious that he ordered a gallows to
be erected at once, and the young man to be hanged without a trial.
He was not even allowed to speak in his own defence, but on the very
steps of the gallows he sent a message to the king and begged, as a
last favour, that he might play a tune on his zither. Leave was
given him, and taking the instrument from under his cloak he touched
the strings. Scarcely had the first notes sounded than the hangman
and his helper began to dance, and the louder grew the music the
higher they capered, till at last they cried for mercy. But the
youth paid no heed, and the tunes rang out more merrily than before,
and by the time the sun set they both sank on the ground exhausted,
and declared that the hanging must be put off till to-morrow.
The story of the zither soon spread through the town, and on the
following morning the king and his whole court and a large crowd of
people were gathered at the foot of the gallows to see the youth
hanged. Once more he asked a favour--permission to play on his
fiddle, and this the king was graciously pleased to grant. But with
the first notes, the leg of every man in the crowd was lifted high,
and they danced to the sound of the music the whole day till
darkness fell, and there was no light to hang the musician by.
The third day came, and the youth asked leave to play on his flute.
'No, no,' said the king, 'you made me dance all day yesterday, and
if I do it again it will certainly be my death. You shall play no
more tunes. Quick! the rope round his neck.'
At these words the young man looked so sorrowful that the courtiers
said to the king: 'He is very young to die. Let him play a tune if
it will make him happy.' So, very unwillingly, the king gave him
leave; but first he had himself bound to a big fir tree, for fear
that he should be made to dance.
When he was made fast, the young man began to blow softly on his
flute, and bound though he was, the king's body moved to the sound,
up and down the fir tree till his clothes were in tatters, and the
skin nearly rubbed off his back. But the youth had no pity, and went
on blowing, till suddenly the old magician appeared and asked: 'What
danger are you in, my son, that you have sent for me?'
'They want to hang me,' answered the young man; 'the gallows are all
ready and the hangman is only waiting for me to stop playing.'
'Oh, I will put that right,' said the magician; and taking the
gallows, he tore it up and flung it into the air, and no one knows
where it came down. 'Who has ordered you to be hanged?' asked he.
The young man pointed to the king, who was still bound to the fir;
and without wasting words the magician took hold of the tree also,
and with a mighty heave both fir and man went spinning through the
air, and vanished in the clouds after the gallows.
Then the youth was declared to be free, and the people elected him
for their king; and the stable helper drowned himself from envy,
for, after all, if it had not been for him the young man would have
remained poor all the days of his life.
Gifts of the Magician
from the Crimson Fairy Book
Story Edited
by Andrew Lang |
