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Once upon
a time...
In a village there once lived a smith called Basmus, who was
in a very poor way. He was still a young man, and a strong handsome
fellow to boot, but he had many little children and there was little
to be earned by his trade. He was, however, a diligent and
hard-working man, and when he had no work in the smithy he was out
at sea fishing, or gathering wreckage on the shore.
It happened one time that he had gone out to fish in good weather,
all alone in a little boat, but he did not come home that day, nor
the following one, so that all believed he had perished out at sea.
On the third day, however, Basmus came to shore again and had his
boat full of fish, so big and fat that no one had ever seen their
like. There was nothing the matter with him, and he complained
neither of hunger or thirst. He had got into a fog, he said, and
could not find land again. What he did not tell, however, was where
he had been all the time; that only came out six years later, when
people got to know that he had been caught by a mermaid out on the
deep sea, and had been her guest during the three days that he was
missing. From that time forth he went out no more to fish; nor,
indeed, did he require to do so, for whenever he went down to the
shore it never failed that some wreckage was washed up, and in it
all kinds of valuable things. In those days everyone took what they
found and got leave to keep it, so that the smith grew more
prosperous day by day.
When seven years had passed since the smith went out to sea, it
happened one morning, as he stood in the smithy, mending a plough,
that a handsome young lad came in to him and said, 'Good-day,
father; my mother the mermaid sends her greetings, and says that she
has had me for six years now, and you can keep me for as long.'
He was a strange enough boy to be six years old, for he looked as if
he were eighteen, and was even bigger and stronger than lads
commonly are at that age.
'Will you have a bite of bread?' said the smith.
'Oh, yes,' said Hans, for that was his name.
The smith then told his wife to cut a piece of bread for him. She
did so, and the boy swallowed it at one mouthful and went out again
to the smithy to his father.
'Have you got all you can eat?' said the smith.
'No,' said Hans, 'that was just a little bit.'
The smith went into the house and took a whole loaf, which he cut
into two slices and put butter and cheese between them, and this he
gave to Hans. In a while the boy came out to the smithy again.
'Well, have you got as much as you can eat?' said the smith.
'No, not nearly,' said Hans; 'I must try to find a better place than
this, for I can see that I shall never get my fill here.'
Hans wished to set off at once, as soon as his father would make a
staff for him of such a kind as he wanted.
'It must be of iron,' said he, 'and one that can hold out.'
The smith brought him an iron rod as thick as an ordinary staff, but
Hans took it and twisted it round his finger, so that wouldn't do.
Then the smith came dragging one as thick as a waggon-pole, but Hans
bent it over his knee and broke it like a straw. The smith then had
to collect all the iron he had, and Hans held it while his father
forged for him a staff, which was heavier than the anvil. When Hans
had got this he said, 'Many thanks, father; now I have got my
inheritance.' With this he set off into the country, and the smith
was very pleased to be rid of that son, before he ate him out of
house and home.
Hans first arrived at a large estate, and it so happened that the
squire himself was standing outside the farmyard.
'Where are you going?' said the squire.
'I am looking for a place,' said Hans, 'where they have need of
strong fellows, and can give them plenty to eat.'
'Well,' said the squire, 'I generally have twenty-four men at this
time of the year, but I have only twelve just now, so I can easily
take you on.'
'Very well,' said Hans, 'I shall easily do twelve men's work, but
then I must also have as much to eat as the twelve would.'
All this was agreed to, and the squire took Hans into the kitchen,
and told the servant girls that the new man was to have as much food
as the other twelve. It was arranged that he should have a pot to
himself, and he could then use the ladle to take his food with.
It was in the evening that Hans arrived there, so he did nothing
more that day than eat his supper--a big pot of buck-wheat porridge,
which he cleaned to the bottom and was then so far satisfied that he
said he could sleep on that, so he went off to bed. He slept both
well and long, and all the rest were up and at their work while he
was still sleeping soundly. The squire was also on foot, for he was
curious to see how the new man would behave who was both to eat and
work for twelve.
But as yet there was no Hans to be seen, and the sun was already
high in the heavens, so the squire himself went and called on him.
'Get up, Hans,' he cried; 'you are sleeping too long.'
Hans woke up and rubbed his eyes. 'Yes, that's true,' he said, 'I
must get up and have my breakfast.'
So he rose and dressed himself, and went into the kitchen, where he
got his pot of porridge; he swallowed all of this, and then asked
what work he was to have.
He was to thresh that day, said the squire; the other twelve men
were already busy at it. There were twelve threshing-floors, and the
twelve men were at work on six of them--two on each. Hans must
thresh by himself all that was lying upon the other six floors. He
went out to the barn and got hold of a flail. Then he looked to see
how the others did it and did the same, but at hte first stroke he
smashed the flail in pieces. There were several flails hanging
there, and Hans took the one after the other, but they all went the
same way, every one flying in splinters at the first stroke. He then
looked round for something else to work with, and found a pair of
strong beams lying near. Next he caught sight of a horse-hide nailed
up on the barn-door. With the beams he made a flail, using the skin
to tie them together. The one beam he used as a handle, and the
other to strike with, and now that was all right. But the barn was
too low, there was no room to swing the flail, and the floors were
too small. Hans, however, found a remedy for this--he simply lifted
the whole roof off the barn, and set it down in the field beside. He
then emptied down all the corn that he could lay his hands on and
threshed away. He went through one lot after another, and it was ll
the same to him what he got hold of, so before midday he had
threshed all the squire's grain, his rye and wheat and barley and
oats, all mixed through each other. When he was finished with this,
he lifted the roof up on the barn again, like setting a lid on a
box, and went in and told the squire that the job was done.
The squire opened his eyes at this announcement; and came out to see
if it was really true. It was true, sure enough, but he was scarcely
delighted with the mixed grain that he got from all his crops.
However, when he saw the flail that Hans had used, and learned how
he had made room for himself to swing it, he was so afraid of the
strong fellow, that he dared not say anything, except that it was a
good thing he had got it threshed; but it had still to be cleaned.
'What does that mean?' asked Hans.
It was explained to him that the corn and the chaff had to be
separated; as yet both were lying in one heap, right up to the roof.
Hans began to take up a little and sift it in his hands, but he soon
saw that this would never do. He soon thought of a plan, however; he
opened both barn-doors, and then lay down at one end and blew, so
that all the chaff flew out and lay like a sand-bank at the other
end of the barn, and the grain was as clean as it could be. Then he
reported to the squire that that job also was done. The squire said
that that was well; there was nothing more for him to do that day.
Off went Hans to the kitchen, and got as much as he could eat; then
he went and took a midday nap which lasted till supper-time.
Meanwhile the squire was quite miserable, and made his moan to his
wife, saying that she must help him to find some means to getting
rid of this strong fellow, for he durst not give him his leave. She
sent for the steward, and it was arranged that next day all the men
should go to the forest for fire-wood, and that they should make a
bargain among them, that the one who came home last with his load
should be hanged. They thought they could easily manage that it
would be Hans who would lose his life, for the others would be early
on the road, while Hans would certainly oversleep himself. In the
evening, therefore, the men sat and talked together, saying that
next morning they must set out early to the forest, and as they had
a hard day's work and a long journey before them, they would, for
their amusement, make a compact, that whichever of them came home
last with his load should lose his life on the gallows. So Hans had
no objections to make.
Long before the sun was up next morning, all the twelve men were on
foot. They took all the best horses and carts, and drove off to the
forest. Hans, however, lay and slept on, and the squire said, 'Just
let him lie.'
At last, Hans thought it was time to have his breakfast, so he got
up and put on his clothes. He took plenty of time to his breakfast,
and then went out to get his horse and cart ready. The others had
taken everything that was any good, so that he had a difficulty in
scraping together four wheels of different sizes and fixing them to
an old cart, and he could find no other horses than a pair of old
hacks. He did not know where it lay, but he followed the track of
the other carts, and in that way came to it all right. On coming to
the gate leading into the forest, he was unfortunate enough to break
it in pieces, so he took a huge stone that was lying on the field,
seven ells long, and seven ells broad, and set this in the gap, then
he went on and joined the others. These laughed at him heartily, for
they had laboured as hard as they could since daybreak, and had
helped each other to fell trees and put them on the carts, so that
all of these were now loaded except one.
Hans got hold of a woodman's axe and proceeded to fell a tree, but
he destroyed the edge and broke the shaft at the first blow. He
therefore laid down the axe, put his arms round the tree, and pulled
it up by the roots. This he threw upon his cart, and then another
and another, and thus he went on while all the others forgot their
work, and stood with open mouths, gazing at this strange woodcraft.
All at once they began to hurry; the last cart was loaded, and they
whipped up their horses, so as to be the first to arrive home.
When Hans had finished his work, he again put his old hacks into the
cart, but they could not move it from the spot. He was annoyed at
this, and took them out again, twisted a rope round the cart, and
all the trees, lifted the whole affair on his back, and set off
home, leading the horses behind him by the rein. When he reached the
gate, he found the whole row of carts standing there, unable to get
any further for the stone which lay in the gap.
'What!' said Hans, 'can twelve men not move that stone?' With that
he lifted it and threw it out of hte way, and went on with his
burden on his back, and the horses behind him, and arrived at the
farm long before any of the others. The squire was walking about
there, looking and looking, for he was very curious to know what had
happened. Finally, he caught sight of Hans coming along in this
fashion, and was so frightened that he did not know what to do, but
he shut the gate and put on the bar. When Hans reached the gate of
the courtyard, he laid down the trees and hammered at it, but no one
came to open it. He then took the trees and tossed them over the
barn into the yard, and the cart after them, so that every wheel
flew off in a different direction.
When the squire saw this, he thought to himself, 'The horses will
come the same way if I don't open the door,' so he did this.
'Good day, master,' said Hans, and put the horses into the stable,
and went into the kitchen, to get something to eat. At length the
other men came home with their loads. When they came in, Hans said
to them, 'Do you remember the bargain we made last night? Which of
you is it that's going to be hanged?' 'Oh,' said they, 'that was
only a joke; it didn't mean anything.' 'Oh well, it doesn't matter,
'said Hans, and there was no more about it.
The squire, however, and his wife and the steward, had much to say
to each other about the terrible man they had got, and all were
agreed that they must get rid of him in some way or other. The
steward said that he would manage this all right. Next morning they
were to clean the well, and they would use of that opportunity. They
would get him down into the well, and then have a big mill-stone
ready to throw down on top of him--that would settle him. After that
they could just fill in the well, and then escape being at any
expense for his funeral. Both the squire and his wife thought this a
splendid idea, and went about rejoicing at the thought that now they
would get rid of Hans.
But Hans was hard to kill, as we shall see. He slept long next
morning, as he always did, and finally, as he would not waken by
himself, the squire had to go and call him. 'Get up, Hans, you are
sleeping too long,' he cried. Hans woke up and rubbed his eyes.
'That's so,' said he, 'I shall rise and have my breakfast.' He got
up then and dressed himself, while the breakfast stood waiting for
him. When he had finished the whole of this, he asked what he was to
do that day. He was told to help the other men to clean out the
well. That was all right, and he went out and found the other men
waiting for him. To these he said that they could choose whichever
task they liked--either to go down into the well and fill the
buckets while he pulled them up, or pull them up, and he alone would
go down to the bottom of the well. They answered that they would
rather stay above-ground, as there would be no room for so many of
them down in the well.
Hans therefore went down alone, and began to clean out the well, but
the men had arranged how they were to act, and immediately each of
them seized a stone from a heap of huge blocks, and threw them down
above him, thinking to kill him with these. Hans, however, gave no
more heed to this than to shout up to them, to keep the hens away
from the well, for they were scraping gravel down on the top of him.
They then saw that they could not kill him with little stones, but
they had still the big one left. The whole twelve of them set to
work with poles and rollers and rolled the big mill-stone to the
brink of the well. It was with the greatest difficulty that they got
it thrown down there, and now they had no doubt that he had got all
that he wanted. But the stone happened to fall so luckily that his
head went right through the hole in the middle of the mill-stone, so
that it sat round his neck like a priest's collar. At this, Hans
would stay down no longer. He came out of the well, with the
mill-stone round his neck, ad went straight to the squire and
complained that the other men were trying to make a fool of him. He
would not be their priest, he said; he had too little learning for
that. Saying this, he bent down his head and shook the stone off, so
that it crushed one of the squire's big toes.
The squire went limping in to his wife, and the steward was sent
for. He was told that he must devise some plan for getting rid of
this terrible person. The scheme he had devised before had been of
no use, and now good counsel was scarce.
'Oh, no' said the steward, 'there are good enough ways yet. The
squire can send him this evening to fish in Devilmoss Lake: he will
never escape alive from there, for no one can go there by night for
Old Eric.'
That was a grand idea, both the squire and his wife thought, and so
he limped out again to Hans, and said that he would punish his men
for having tried to make a fool of him. Meanwhile, Hans could do a
little job where he would be free from these rascals. He should go
out on the lake and fish there that night, and would then be free
from all work on the following day.
'All right,' said Hans; 'I am well content with that, but I must
have something with me to eat--a baking of bread, a cask of butter,
a barrel of ale, and a keg of brandy. I can't do with less than
that.'
The squire said that he could easily get all that, so Hans got all
of these tied up together, hung them over his shoulder on his good
staff, and tramped away to Devilmoss Lake.
There he got into the boat, rowed out upon the lake, and got
everything ready to fish. As he now lay out there in the middle of
the lake, and it was pretty late in the evening, he thought he would
have something to eat first, before starting to work. Just as he was
at his busiest with this, Old Eric rose out of the lake, caught him
by the cuff of the neck, whipped him out of the boat, and dragged
him down to the bottom. It was a lucky thing that Hans had his
walking-stick with him that day, and had just time to catch hold of
it when he felt Old Eric's claws in his neck, so when they got down
to the bottom he said, 'Stop now, just wait a little; here is solid
ground.' With that he caught Old Eric by the back of the neck with
one hand, and hammered away on his back with the staff, till he beat
him out as flat as a pancake. Old Eric then began to lament and
howl, begging him just to let him go, and he would never come back
to the lake again.
'No, my good fellow,' said Hans, 'you won't get off until you
promise to bring all the fish in the lake up to the squire's
courtyard, before to-morrow morning.'
Old Eric eagerly promised this, if Hans would only let him go; so
Hans rowed ashore, ate up the rest of his provisions, and went home
to bed.
Next morning, when the squire rose and opened his front door, the
fish came tumbling into the porch, and the whole yard was crammed
full of them. He ran in again to his wife, for he could never devise
anything himself, and said to her, 'What shall we do with him now?
Old Eric hasn't taken him. I am certain that all the fish are out of
the lake, for the yard is just filled with them.'
'Yes, that's a bad business,' said she; 'you must see if you can't
get him sent to Purgatory, to demand tribute.' The squire therefore
made his way to the men's quarters, to speak to Hans, and it took
him all his time to push his way along the walls, under the eaves,
on account of the fish that filled the yard. He thanked Hans for
having fished so well, and said that now he had an errand for him,
which he could only give to a trusty servant, and that was to
journey to Purgatory, and demand three years tribute, which, he
said, was owing to him from that quarter.
'Willingly,' said Hans; 'but what road do I go, to get there?'
The squire stood, and did not know what to say, and had first to go
in to his wife to ask her.
'Oh, what a fool you are!' said she, 'can't you direct him straight
forward, south through the wood? Whether he gets there or not, we
shall be quit of him.'
Out goes the squire again to Hans.
'The way lies straight forward, south through the wood,' said he.
Hans then must have his provisions for the journey; two bakings of
bread, two casks of butter, two barrels of ale, and two kegs of
brandy. He tied all these up together, and got them on his shoulder
hanging on his good walking-stick, and off he tramped southward.
After he had got through the wood, there was more than one road, and
he was in doubt which of them was the right one, so he sat down and
opened up his bundle of provisions. He found he had left his knife
at home, but by good chance, there was a plough lying close at hand,
so he took the coulter of this to cut the bread with. As he sat
there and took his bite, a man came riding past him.
'Where are you from?' said Hans.
'From Purgatory,' said the man.
'Then stop and wait a little,' said Hans; but the man was in a
hurry, and would not stop, so Hans ran after him and caught the
horse by the tail. This brought it down on its hind legs, and the
man went flying over its head into a ditch. 'Just wait a little,'
said Hans; 'I am going the same way.' He got his provisions tied up
again, and laid them on the horse's back; then he took hold of the
reins and said to the man, 'We two can go along together on foot.'
As they went on their way Hans told the stranger both about the
errand he had on hand and the fun he had had with Old Eric. The
other said but little but he was well acquainted with the way, and
it was no long time before they arrived at the gate. There both
horse and rider disappeared, and Hans was left alone outside. 'They
will come and let me in presently,' he thought to himself; but no
one came. He hammered at the gate; still no one appeared. Then he
got tired of waiting, and smashed at the gate with his staff until
he knocked it in pieces and got inside. A whole troop of little
demons came down upon him and asked what he wanted. His master's
compliments, said Hans, and he wanted three years' tribute. At this
they howled at him, and were about to lay hold of him and drag him
off; but when they had got some raps from his walking-stick they let
go again, howled still louder than before, and ran in to Old Eric,
who was still in bed, after his adventure in the lake. They told him
that a messenger had come from the squire at Devilmoss to demand
three years' tribute. He had knocked the gate to pieces and bruised
their arms and legs with his iron staff.
'Give him three years'! give him ten!' shouted Old Eric, 'only don't
let him come near me.'
So all the little demons came dragging so much silver and gold that
it was something awful. Hans filled his bundle with gold and silver
coins, put it on his neck, and tramped back to his master, who was
scared beyond all measure at seeing him again.
But Hans was also tired of service now. Of all the gold and silver
he brought with him he let the squire keep one half, and he was glad
enough, both for the money and at getting rid of Hans. The other
half he took home to his father the smith in Furreby. To him also he
said, 'Farewell;' he was now tired of living on shore among mortal
men, and preferred to go home again to his mother. Since that time
no one has ever seen Hans, the Mermaid's son.
Hans the Mermaid's Son
from the Pink Fairy Book
Story Edited
by Andrew Lang |
