Chapter IV: Part I: Georgian Folk Tales (2)

The next day Ghvthisavari again went out hunting. His mother, wishing to see the surroundings, went out of the house into the garden. As she walked about, the devi suddenly appeared at the foot of a tree. The devi pleaded, saying: 'Do not give me up! Do not tell thy son that I am hidden here!' Ghvthisavari's mother promised, and when Ghvthisavari went out to the chase, his mother always took food and drink to the devi. And at last she loved him.

Once the devi said to her: 'Why should we live thus? We see each other only in secret, I am continually in terror of thy son. Go home now, lie down in bed and pretend to be ill. When thy son comes home and asks thee what is the matter, say to him: "Go to such and such a place and bring me some pieces of stag's horns as a remedy." When thy son goes to the stag, it will butt him with its horns, and then thou and I shall remain here alone.'

The woman agreed to this plan, went in and lay down in her bed. Ghvthisavari came home, and seeing his mother sick, he said to her: 'What is the matter? Tell me what will cure thee, and I will find it, even if it be bird's milk.' [6] His mother said: 'If thou canst bring to me a piece of such and such a stag's horn, from a certain place, I shall be well; if not, I shall die.' Ghvthisavari slung his bow and arrows over his shoulders, took his dogs and set out.

When he had gone some way, he came to an immense wide plain, where he saw a stag feeding. It had such large horns that they reached to heaven.

He sat down and took an arrow. Just as he was about to let it fly, the stag made a sign, and cried out: 'Ghvthisavari! Ghvthisavari! why shoot me? What have I done to deserve this of thee? Dost thou not know that thy mother has deceived thee. She seeks thy ruin, therefore has she sent thee hither. Behold, here is a piece of my horn, take it, and here is one of my hairs, take it with thee also, and when thou art in trouble, think of me, and I shall be there.' Ghvthisavari thanked the stag joyfully, and went away.

He went home with the stag's horn to his mother. She took it, and thanked him.

The next day Ghvthisavari again went to the chase. His mother immediately hastened to the devi and said: 'Ghvthisavari has returned unharmed, and has brought the stag's horn.' 'Well,' said the devi, 'pretend to be ill as before, and tell him that he must bring a wild boar's bristle from such and such a place, else there is no cure for thee.'

The woman ran in, lay down in bed, and began to moan. Ghvthisavari returned, and seeing his mother ill, he asked her: 'What is this, mother? What aileth thee? Tell me what will cure thee, and even bird's milk I will not leave unfound.' 'If thou wilt seek in such and such a place, and bring me a bristle from a certain wild boar, then all will be well, but if not, I shall die.' 'May thy Ghvthisavari die if he find not this!' said Ghvthisavari, slinging his bow and arrows on his shoulders, and taking his dogs, he set forth on the quest.

He went a long way, and came into a wood. There he found a boar's lair, but boar was there none. He went on a little, and saw another lair, but again there was no boar in it. He went away once more, and saw the boar itself. It had changed its lair twice, and now lay in a third. Ghvthisavari approached it, took aim with an arrow, but, as he was about to let it fly, the boar cried out: 'Ghvthisavari! Ghvthisavari! what have I done to harm thee? Why kill me? Dost thou not know that thy mother has deceived thee? She wishes for thy death, therefore has she sent thee hither. But since thou wouldst like a bristle, pull out as many as thou wishest, and take them with thee.' Ghvthisavari came up, took a bristle, and was going away, when the boar took out a hair, gave it to him, and said: 'Here is also a hair for thee; when thou art in trouble remember me, and I shall come to thee.' Ghvthisavari took the hair, thanked the boar, and went away.

He came home, gave his mother the bristle, and again hastened out to the chase. His mother ran immediately to the devi, and said complainingly: 'Ghvthisavari has returned unharmed, and has brought me the boar's bristle.' The devi replied: 'Then go, again, pretend to be ill, and say to Ghvthisavari: "If thou wilt go to a certain place, where a certain griffin (phascundzi) lives, and bring me the flesh of its young, I shall be well; if not, I shall die." Thou knowest he cannot do that, and thou and I shall stay here together.'

The woman rejoiced, ran quickly back to bed, and began to moan. Ghvthisavari came in, saw his mother in bed, and asked the cause. His mother replied as the devi had commanded. Ghvthisavari answered: 'Then may Ghvthisavari die if he find not what thou wishest.' He went away.

He went on and on, and at last came to a plain, where stood a very big tree, whose top stretched to heaven. On a branch there was a nest, from which fledglings peeped out. Then, from far away in the sky, there appeared a huge, strange bird, something like an eagle. It swooped down, and just as it was about to seize the young birds, Ghvthisavari drew his bow, and killed it. Just then appeared the griffin, mother of the young ones. She thought Ghvthisavari her enemy, and was about to seize him, but her fledglings cried out that he had killed the bird that would have drunk their blood, and had saved them.

Although the griffin did not bring up more than three birds in a year, yet she was in constant terror until they had learnt to fly, because this same bird used to seize and eat them.

When she learnt that Ghvthisavari had killed their cruel enemy, she came to him, and said: 'Tell me what thou wishest? why art thou come hither? and I will immediately satisfy thy desire.' Ghvthisavari said: 'I have a mother who is ill; unless I take her young griffin's flesh she will die.' The griffin said in reply: 'Thy mother deceives thee, and is not ill at all; she seeks thy death. Here are my fledglings, if thou wantest them, but do not kill them, take them with thee alive.' She pulled out a feather, and gave it to him, saying: 'Take this with thee, and when thou art in trouble think of me, and I shall be there.' Ghvthisavari thanked her heartily, took away a fledgling, and went home.

He came in, gave the young griffin to his mother, who said: 'Now, my child, I am quite well, and shall want nothing else,' and she sent him away. Ghvthisavari went out hunting. The woman went out hastily to the devi, and complained, saying: 'Ghvthisavari has brought the fledgling, and he himself has returned alive.' The devi was very angry, but calmed down and said: 'When Ghvthisavari comes in, tell him he must be bathed, and when he sits down in the tub, put a cover over him and call for me. I will come and hammer down the lid, and throw him into the sea.' The woman rejoiced at this plan, went in and heated water. When Ghvthisavari came in, his mother said: 'Come, child, I will bathe thee, it is some time since thou wert bathed.' Ghvthisavari did not like this, but at last he consented. He sat down in the tub, his mother shut the lid, and called the devi. The devi ran in and hammered down the lid. Then he lifted the tub up and rolled it into the sea.

Ghvthisavari's dogs saw this; they went to the edge of the water and barked. They barked until the very stones might have been moved with pity. Then they said: 'Let us go and seek his friends, they may perchance help us.' Four remained and four went to seek his friends. They came to the stag, then to the boar, and then to the griffin. These all arose and immediately went to the water's edge.

They thought and planned, and at last decided what to do. They said to the griffin: 'Fly up high, strike and cleave the water with thy wings, the tub will appear, the stag will throw it on to the shore with its horns; then the boar will strike with his tusk, the tub will break, and Ghvthisavari will come forth.' They all did as they were told.

The griffin flew up high in the air, beat with its wings as hard as it could; it cleft the sea into three. The tub was seen, and the stag did not let it fall, but threw it with its horns, and let it down on the shore. Then the boar struck it, crying out: 'Ghvthisavari, lie down in the bottom!' He struck with his tusk, broke the tub, and Ghvthisavari came forth unharmed.

After this the friends went away, each to his own home, Ghvthisavari remained thinking. Just then a ragged swineherd came along. Ghvthisavari said to this swineherd: 'Come, give me thy clothes, and I will put them on.' The swineherd was afraid, and thought: 'This stranger will take my coat and not give me his,' and he ran away. Ghvthisavari pursued him, took off his clothes, and put them on himself; he gave the man his coat, left with him his dogs, and went away.

He came home as if he were a beggar, and asked alms of his mother. When the devi saw him, he looked ferociously at him, and said: 'Go back to the place whence thou camest, lest I do to thee as thou deservest.'

Just then Ghvthisavari saw his bow and arrow in the corner, and cried out: 'We shall see who goes hence! I am Ghvthisavari!' Saying this he drew his bow, shot first the devi and then his mother, killing them both. Then he went to the companion, scolded her well for not warning him, and killed her too. He went away, brought his dogs, and returned to the house to rest.

There came then, no one knows whence, a certain youth; he saw his father, mother, and their servant were all killed, and asked Ghvthisavari to fight. He was Ghvthisavari's mother's son by the devi; Ghvthisavari did not know this, and came to the combat. A long time they struggled, a long time they strove, but neither could strike the other. Then Ghvthisavari said: 'Come, friend, let us each tell the other his story, and afterwards we can fight.' 'Good!' 'Very well,' they said, and each told his tale.

When Ghvthisavari learnt that this was his own brother, he said: 'It is indeed fortunate that we told our tales first, for if we had killed each other there would have been no help for it.' After this the two brothers went into the house, and they lived happily together.

Once Ghvthisavari said to his younger brother: 'Let us go, brother, and seek our fortunes, we shall become like old women if we live thus.' 'I am willing,' replied the younger; so they set out.

They wandered on until they came to a place where two roads met. One led to the right and one to the left. In the middle of the roads stood a stone pillar, on which was written: 'Whoever goes to the left will come back, but he who goes to the right will never return.' Ghvthisavari took the road to the right and his brother went to the left. Ghvthisavari said: 'Know that if the water on the roof changes into blood I shall be in trouble. Come then to my aid. If the water on my roof turns into blood, I shall come and help thee in thy trouble.' Then they divided the dogs: each took four, said farewell, and set out.

Ghvthisavari went on until he came to the shore of a sea, so vast that the eye could not measure it. Twelve men were on this side, twelve on that. Whoever comes to this sea must jump over; if he leaps over without wetting his feet he may marry the king's daughter, who is very beautiful; if not, he is drowned in the sea; and whoever dares not jump at all is seized by the sentinels, and taken before the king.

Ghvthisavari came, and the sentinels told him the conditions. Ghvthisavari took a spring with all his might and main, and leaped over so that not a drop of water touched him. He saw the other sentinels, and they told him that they must take him before the king. When the king saw him he rejoiced, and gave him his fair daughter to wife.

That night Ghvthisavari asked his wife: 'Where is the best hunting to be had in the kingdom?' She replied: 'If thou goest to the left thou wilt return; if thou goest to the right thou wilt never return.' The next morning Ghvthisavari arose at daybreak, took his bow and arrow, and went to the right hand.

He shot an arrow and killed a hare, he tied its feet and left it; he shot another arrow and killed a stag, he bound its feet together and left it too. He shot a third arrow, and it stuck in a burning fire.

He went on and on until he reached this fire. Then he killed a stag, put it on the fire, and sat down at the side. He roasted meat, ate some, and gave some to his dogs. Behold, no one knows whence, a toothless old woman appeared. She begged Ghvthisavari to give her something to eat. He did so; he ate, but the old woman ate ten times more. For every mouthful Ghvthisavari took she took a basketful. Ghvthisavari looked on in amazement. The old woman finished all the food. Then she took a little stone and threw it at Ghvthisavari's bow and arrow. They turned into stone, and fell on the ground. Then she took the little stone and threw it at the dogs, who also became petrified. She took them one by one in her hand and swallowed them. Ghvthisavari was stupefied; he seized his bow and arrow to kill the old woman, but he could not move it; it fell to earth. Then the old woman turned her stone towards Ghvthisavari, who lost his strength, and became as a corpse. The old woman lifted him up in her hand and swallowed him. At that moment the water changed to blood, and the younger brother knew that Ghvthisavari had fallen into misfortune, and set out to help him.

When he had gone some way he came to the water's edge, on each side of which stood the twelve sentinels. He leaped across. The sentinels were surprised, they thought it was Ghvthisavari, and asked him whence he came and whither he was going. The youth told them nothing, and did not let them know who he was. He came to the king. That night he was given his brother's wife, but when he lay down he put a sword between them, and did not touch her. Then he asked her: 'Where is the best hunting?' She replied: 'If thou goest to the left thou wilt return, if to the right thou wilt never return. Do not go; did I not tell thee the same thing yesterday?' 'I asked thee, and I went one way, but did not like it; now I ask thee again,' said the youth. He rose the next morning, and went to the right hand.

When he had gone a little way he saw the dead hare with its feet bound; he went on farther and saw the dead stag with its feet bound. He said to himself: 'My brother must have come this way; this is some of the game he has killed.' He again went on, and saw the fire burning. Beside it lay Ghvthisavari's bow and arrow, and he said to himself: 'Here my brother has met his fate.' Then he killed some game and roasted it on the fire.

There appeared, no one knows whence, the same old woman. She sat down and waited for her share of roast meat. In eating, the old woman's behaviour was the same as before. When she had finished the food she was still hungry. She took a little stone, and lifted it to throw at the dogs. The youth thought to himself: 'It must have been in this way that this old woman swallowed my brother Ghvthisavari.' He seized the old woman by the throat, cleft her breast open, and took out Ghvthisavari and his dogs. Then he killed the old woman and poured her blood over Ghvthisavari, the dogs, and the bow and arrow. Ghvthisavari and his dogs came back to life, and the bow and arrow were raised from the earth. When Ghvthisavari woke to consciousness he said: 'Ugh! I have had such a dream.' Then his brother said: 'Thou hast not dreamt'; and he told him what had happened.

Ghvthisavari rejoiced, and they both went to their new kinsman, the king. On the way, Ghvthisavari was very melancholy, for he thought that his brother must have married his wife. His brother looked at him and said: 'May this arrow strike me on the part of my body that has touched thy wife, and kill me.' Thus spoke Ghvthisavari's brother, and threw up an arrow. It fell, struck him in the little finger, and he died. Ghvthisavari left his brother, went in, and, when he had learnt all, was deeply grieved. He went, no one knows where, found immortal water, and brought his brother back to life. Then he found him a fair wife, and they dwelt together, happy in fraternal affection and in love.

VII

THE SERPENT AND THE PEASANT

There was once a happy king. Great or small, maid or man, every one was happy in his kingdom, every one was joyful and glad.

Once this monarch saw a vision. In his dream there hung from the ceiling in his house a fox suspended by the tail. He awoke, he could not see what the dream signified. He assembled his viziers, but they also could not divine what this dream presaged.

Then he said: 'Assemble all my kingdom together, perhaps some one may interpret it.' On the third day all the people of his kingdom assembled in the king's palace. Among others came a poor peasant.

In one place he had to travel along a footpath. The path on both sides was shut in by rocky mountains. When the peasant arrived there, he saw a serpent lying on the path, stretching its neck and putting out its tongue.

When the peasant went near, the serpent called out: 'Good day, where art thou going, peasant?' The peasant told what was the matter. The serpent said: 'Do not fear him, give me thy word that what the king gives, thou wilt share with me, and I will teach thee.' The peasant rejoiced, gave his word, and swore, saying: 'I will bring thee all that the king presents to me if thou wilt aid me in this matter.' The serpent said: 'I shall divide it in halves, half will be thine; when thou seest the king, say: "The fox meant this, that in the kingdom there is cunning, hypocrisy, and treachery."'

The peasant went, he approached the king, and told even what the serpent had taught. The king was very much pleased, and gave great presents. The peasant did not return by that way, so that he might not share with the serpent, but went by another path.

Some time passed by, the king saw another vision: in his dream a naked sword hung suspended from the roof. The king this time sent a man quickly for the peasant, and asked him to come. The peasant was very uneasy in mind. There was nothing for it, the peasant went by the same footpath as before.

He came to that place where he saw the serpent before, but now he saw the serpent there no more. He cried out: 'O serpent, come here one moment, I need thee.' He ceased not until the serpent came. It said: 'What dost thou want? what distresses thee?' The peasant answered: 'Thus and thus is the matter, and I should like some aid.' The serpent replied: 'Go, tell the king that the naked sword means war--now enemies are intriguing within and without; he must prepare for battle and attack.'

The peasant thanked the serpent and went. He came and told the king even as the serpent had commanded. The king was pleased, he began to prepare for war, and gave the peasant great presents. Now the peasant went by that path where the serpent was waiting. The serpent said: 'Now give me the half thou hast promised.' The peasant replied: 'Half, certainly not! I shall give thee a black stone and a burning cinder.' He drew out his sword and pursued it. The serpent retreated into a hole, but the peasant followed it, and cut off its tail with his sword.

Some time passed, and the king again saw a vision. In this vision a slain sheep was hanging from the roof. The king sent a man quickly for the peasant. The peasant was now very much afraid. And he said: 'How can I approach the king?' Formerly the serpent had taught him, but now it could no longer do this; for its goodness he had wounded it with the sword.

Nevertheless, he went by that footpath. When he came to the place where the serpent had been, he cried out: 'O serpent, come here one moment, I want to ask thee something.' The serpent came. The man told his grief. The serpent said: 'If thou givest me half of what the king gives thee, I shall tell thee.' He promised and swore. The serpent said: 'This is a sign that now everywhere peace falls on all, the people are become like quiet, gentle sheep.'

The peasant thanked it, and went his way. When he came to the king, he spoke as the serpent had instructed him. The king was exceedingly pleased, and gave him greater presents. The peasant returned by the way where the serpent was waiting. He came to the serpent, divided everything he had received from the king, and said: 'Thou hast been patient with me, and now I will give thee even what was given me before by the king.' He humbly asked forgiveness for his former offences. The serpent said: 'Be not grieved nor troubled; it certainly was not thy fault. The first time, when all the people were entirely deceitful, and there was treachery and hypocrisy in the land, thou too wert a deceiver, for, in spite of thy promise, thou wentest home by another way. The second time, when there was war everywhere, quarrels and assassination, thou, too, didst quarrel with me, and cut off my tail. But now, when peace and love have fallen on all, thou bringest the gifts, and sharest all with me. Go, brother, may the peace of God rest with thee! I do not want thy wealth.' And the serpent went away and cast itself into its hole.

VIII

GULAMBARA AND SULAMBARA

There was and there was not at all, there was a blind monarch; all the doctors in the kingdom had been applied to, but the king could not be cured.

At last one doctor said: 'In a certain sea is a fish red as blood. If this is caught, killed, and its blood sprinkled on your eyes, it may do good--the light will come back into your eyes--if not, there can be no other cure for you.'

Then the king assembled every fisherman in his realm, and commanded: 'Go wherever it may be or may not be, catch such a fish as this, and I shall give you a rich reward.'

Some time passed by. An old fisherman caught just such a crimson fish, and took it to the king. The king was asleep, and they did not dare to wake him, so they put the fish into a basin full of water.

Just then his son returned from his lessons. He saw the blood-red fish swimming in the basin. He took it up in his hands, caressed it, and said: 'What do you want with the pretty fish in the basin?' They said to him: 'This is good for your father, it must be killed, its blood sprinkled on his eyes, and he will regain his sight.' 'But is it not a sin to kill it?' asked the prince; and he took the fish out to a stream in the meadow, and gave it freedom.

A little while after, the king awoke; his viziers said to him: 'An old fisherman brought to you a blood-red fish, but your son, who had just returned from his lessons, let it away.'

The king was very angry, and sent his son from the house. 'Go hence, I shall be well when thou art no longer remembered in the kingdom; with my eyes I cannot look upon thee, but never let me hear thine unpleasant voice again.' The boy was grieved, rose, and went away.

He went, he went, and he knew not whither he went. On the way he saw a stream. He was weary and sat down to rest on the bank. Behold, a boy of his own age came out of the water. He came to the prince, greeted him, and said: 'Whence comest thou? and what troubles thee?' The prince went to him and told him all that had happened to him. His new acquaintance said: 'I also am discontented with my lot, so let us become brothers, and live together.' The prince agreed, and they went on their way.

They travelled on some distance, when they came to a town, and they dwelt there. When the next day dawned, his adopted brother said to the prince: 'Stay thou at home, do not go out of doors, lest they eat thee, for such is the custom here.' The prince promised, and from morning until night he sat indoors. The other boy was away in the town all day. At twilight, when he came home, he had a handkerchief quite full of provisions.

Several days slipped by. The prince stayed in all day, and his brother brought the food and drink. At last the prince said to himself: 'This is shameful! My adopted brother goes out and brings in food and drink. Why do I not do something? What an idle fellow I am! I will go and do something!'

And so it happened that one day the king's son went into the town; he wandered here and there, and in one place saw his brother, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, at his feet was stretched a pocket handkerchief, in his hand he held a chonguri (a stringed instrument), which he played, and he chanted to it with a sweet voice. Whoever passed by placed money in the handkerchief.

The king's son listened and listened, and said: 'No, this must not be; this is not my business.' So he turned and went back.

Near there he saw a tower. Outside was a wall, and on the top were arranged in rows men's heads: some were quite shrivelled up, some had an unpleasant odour of decay, and some had just been placed there.

He looked and looked, and could not understand what it meant. He asked a man: 'Whose tower is this, and why are men's heads arranged in rows in this way?' He was told: 'In this tower dwells a maiden beautiful as the sun. Any king's son may ask her in marriage. She asks him a question: if he cannot answer it his head is cut off, but if he can he may demand her in marriage. No one has yet been able to answer her question.'

The prince thought and thought, and said to himself: 'I will go. I will ask this maiden in marriage: I will know if this is my fate. What is to be will be. What can she ask me that I shall not know?' So he rose and went.

He came to the sunlike maiden and asked her in marriage. She answered: 'It is well, but first I have a question to ask thee; if thou canst answer, then I am thine, if not, I shall cut off thy head.' 'So let it be,' said the prince. 'I ask thee this, Who are Gulambara and Sulambara?' enquired the beautiful maiden. The king's son said to himself: 'I know indeed that Gulambara and Sulambara are names of flowers, but I never heard in all my life of human beings thus named.' He asked three days grace and went away.

He went home and told his brother what had happened, and said: 'If thou canst not help me now, in three days I shall lose my head.' His brother reproached him, saying: 'Did I not tell thee to stay indoors? This is a wicked town.' But then he comforted him, saying: 'Go now, buy a pennyworth of aromatic gum and a candle. I have a grandmother, I shall take thee to her, and she will help thee. But at the moment when my grandmother looks at us, give her the gum and the candle, or she will eat thee.'

He bought the gum and the candle, and they set out. The grandmother was standing in her doorway; the prince immediately gave her the gum and the candle. 'What is it? what is the matter with thee?' enquired the grandmother of the prince's adopted brother. He came forward, and told everything in detail. Then he added: 'This is my good brother, and certainly thou shouldst help him.' 'Very well,' said the old woman to the prince; 'sit down on my back.' The prince seated himself on her back. The old woman flew up high, and then, in the twinkling of an eye, she flew down into the depths.

She took him into a town there, and went to the entrance of a bazaar. She pointed out a shopkeeper and said: 'Go and engage thyself as assistant to this shopkeeper; but in the evening, when he leaves business and goes home, tell him that he must take thee with him, and must not leave thee in the shop. Where thou goest with him thou wilt learn the story of Gulambara and Sulambara. Then when thou hast need of me, whistle and I shall be there.'

The prince did exactly as the old woman had instructed him; he went to the butcher, as his assistant. At twilight, when the butcher spoke of going home, the prince said to him: 'Do not leave me here; I am a stranger in this land. I am afraid; take me with thee.' The butcher objected strongly, but the prince entreated him until he agreed.

The butcher went home, and took the prince with him. They came to a wall, opened a door, went in, and it closed. Inside that, was another wall; they went through that, and it closed. They passed thus through nine walls, and then they entered a house. The butcher opened a cupboard door, took out a woman's head, and then an iron whip. He put down the decaying head and struck it. He struck and struck until the head was completely gone.

When the prince saw this he was astonished, and enquired: 'Tell me, why do you strike this head that is so mutilated, and whose head is this?' The butcher made answer: 'I tell this to no one, this is my secret, but if I do tell any one he must then lose his head.' 'I still wish to know,' said the prince. The butcher rose, took a sword, prepared himself, and said to the prince. 'I had a wife who was so lovely that she excelled the sun; her name was Gulambara. I kept her under these nine locks, and I took care of her so that not even the wind of heaven blew on her. Whatever she asked me I gave her at once. I loved her to distraction, and trusted her, and she told me that she loved no one in the world but me. At that time I had an assistant who was called Sulambara, and my wife loved him and deceived me. Once I found them together, and seized them. I locked one in one cupboard and the other in another. Whenever I came home from business I went to the cupboards, and took out first one and then the other, and beat them as hard as I could. I struck so hard that Sulambara crumbled away yesterday, and only Gulambara's head remained, and that has just now crumbled away before thine eyes.'

The story ended, he took his sword and said to the prince: 'Now I am going to fulfil my threat, so come here and I shall cut off thy head.' The prince entreated him: 'Give me a little time. I will go to the door and pray to my God, and then do to me even as thou wishest.' The butcher thought: 'It can do no harm to let him go to the door for a short time, for he certainly cannot open the nine doors; let him pray to his God and have his wish.'

The prince went to the gate and whistled. Immediately the old woman flew down, took him on her back, and flew off. The youth went to the town where the beautiful maiden dwelt, and told the sunlike one the story of Gulambara and Sulambara. The maiden was very much surprised; when she had heard all, she agreed to marry him. They were married; she collected all her worldly possessions, and set out with the prince for his father's kingdom.

When he came to the brook, his adopted brother appeared before him, and said: 'In thy trouble I befriended thee, and now, when thou art happy, shall this friendship cease? Whatever thou hast obtained has been by my counsel, therefore thou shouldst share it with me.' The prince divided everything in halves, but still his adopted brother was not pleased. 'It is all very well to share this with me, whilst thou hast the beautiful maiden.' The prince arose and gave up his own share of the goods.

His adopted brother would not take it, and spoke thus: 'If thou holdest fast to our friendship thou shouldst share with me this maiden, the most precious of thy possessions!' As he said this he seized the maiden's hand, bound her to a tree, stretched forth his sword, and, as he was about to strike, a green stream flowed from the terror-stricken maiden's mouth. Again the youth raised his sword. The same thing happened. A third time he prepared to strike, with the same result. Then he came, unbound her from the tree, gave her to the prince, and said: 'Although this maiden was beautiful, yet she was venomous, and, sooner or later, would have killed thee. Now whatever poison was in her is completely gone, so do not fear her in the slightest degree. [7] Go! and God guide thee. As for these possessions, they are thine; I do not want them. May God give thee His peace.' From his pocket he took out a handkerchief, gave it to the prince, and said: 'Take this handkerchief with thee; when thou reachest home wipe thy father's eyes with it and he will see. I am the fish that was in the basin, and thou didst set me free. Know, then, that kindness of heart is never lost.' So saying, the prince's adopted brother disappeared.

The prince remained astonished. Before he had time to express his gratitude the young man had suddenly disappeared. At last, when he had recovered himself, he took his wife and went to his father. He laid the handkerchief on the king's eyes, and his sight came back to him. When he saw his only son and his beautiful daughter-in-law his joy was so great that his eyes filled with tears. His son sat down and told him all that had happened since he left him.

IX

THE TWO BROTHERS

Once upon a time there were two brothers. Each of them possessed ten loaves of bread; and they said: 'Let us go and seek our fortune.' So they arose and went forth.

When they had gone a little way they were hungry. One brother said to the other: 'Come, let us eat thy bread first, then we can eat mine.' And he agreed, and they took of his loaves and did eat, and they afterwards went on their way.

And they travelled for some time in this manner. At last, when these ten loaves were finished, the brother who had first spoken said: 'Now, my brother, thou canst go thy way and I shall go mine. Thou hast no loaves left, and I will not let thee eat my bread.' So saying, he left him to continue his journey alone.

He went on and on, and came to a mill in a thick forest. He saw the miller and said: 'For the love of God, let me stay here to-night.' The miller answered: 'Brother, it is a very terrible thing to be here at night; as thou seest, even I go elsewhere. Presently wild beasts will assemble in the wood, and probably come here.' 'Have no fear for me; I shall stay here. The beasts cannot kill me,' answered the boy. The miller tried to persuade him not to endanger his life, but when he found his arguments were of no avail he rose and went home. The boy crept inside the hopper of the mill.

There appeared, from no one knows where, a big bear; he was followed by a wolf, then a jackal; and they all made a great noise in the mill. They leaped and bounded just as if they were having a dance. He was terrified, and, trembling from fear, he lay down, quaking all over, in the hopper. At last the bear said: 'Come, let each of us tell something he has seen or heard.' 'We shall tell our tales, but you must begin,' cried his companions. The bear said: 'Well, on a hill that I know dwells a mouse. This mouse has a great heap of money, which it spreads out when the sun shines. If any one knew of this mouse's hole, and went there on a sunny day, when the money is spread out, and struck the mouse with a twig, and killed it, he would become possessed of great wealth.'

'That is not wonderful!' said the wolf. 'I know a certain town where there is no water, and every mouthful has to be carried a great distance, and an enormous price is paid for it! The inhabitants do not know that in the centre of their town, under a certain stone, is beautiful, pure water. Now, if any one knew of this, and would roll away that stone, he would obtain great wealth.'

'That is nothing,' said the jackal. 'I know of a king who has one only daughter, and she has been an invalid for three years. Quite a simple remedy would cure her: if she were bathed in a bath of beech leaves she would be healed. You have no idea what a fortune any one would get if he only knew this.'

When they had spoken thus, day began to dawn. The bear, the wolf, and the jackal went away into the wood. The boy came out of the hopper, gave thanks to God, and went to the mouse's hole, of which the bear had spoken.

He arrived, and saw that the story was true. There was the mouse with the money spread out. He stole up noiselessly, and, taking twigs in his hand, he struck the mouse until he had killed it, and then gathered up the money. Then he went to the waterless town, rolled away the stone, and behold! streams of water flowed forth. He received a reward for this, and set out for the kingdom of which the jackal had spoken. He arrived, and enquired of the king: 'What wilt thou give me if I cure thy daughter?' The king replied: 'If thou canst do this I will give thee my daughter to wife.' The youth prepared the remedy, made the princess bathe in it, and she was cured. The king rejoiced greatly, gave him the maiden in marriage, and appointed him heir to the kingdom.

This story reached the ears of the youth's brother. He went on and on, and it came to pass that he found his brother. He asked him: 'How and by what cunning has this happened?' The fortunate youth told him all in detail. 'I also shall go and stay at that mill a night or two.' His brother used many entreaties to dissuade him, and when he would not listen, said: 'Well, go if thou wilt, but I warn thee again it is very dangerous.' However, he would not be persuaded, and went away. He crept into the hopper, and was there all night.

From some place or other arrived the former guests--the bear, the wolf, and the jackal. The bear said: 'That day when I told you my story the mouse was killed, and the money all taken away.' The wolf said: 'And the stone was rolled away in the waterless town of which I spoke.' 'And the king's daughter was cured,' added the jackal. 'Then perhaps some one was listening when we talked here,' said the bear. 'Perhaps some one is here now,' shrieked his companions. 'Then let us go and look; certainly no one shall listen again,' said the three; and they looked in all the corners. They sought and sought everywhere. At last the bear looked into the hopper, and saw the trembling boy. He dragged him out and tore him to pieces.

X

THE PRINCE

There was once a king who had great possessions, but his wife had no children, and he was a prey to grief.

One day when he was very melancholy a courtier came to him and said: 'Most mighty monarch! thou hast no son, and thou givest no gifts; what will thy subjects think of thee? What wilt thou do with this wealth stored up by thee?' The king took these words to heart; the next day he gave a great feast, and scattered alms lavishly.

From no one knows where there appeared at that time an old woman. She came to the king and said: 'What wilt thou give me if I bring thee a son?' The king replied: 'Whatever thou askest of me, that will I give thee.' The old woman drew forth from her pocket an apple, which she cut in three and gave to the king, saying, 'Let thy wife eat this, and she will have three children; but, remember, I shall come back in seven years and thou must give me thy youngest son.' The king consented, gave his wife the apple, and she ate it.

Some time passed, and the queen bore three sons, and the youngest was the most beautiful of all. The king could not bear to think that he must give him up. He said to himself: 'I shall put him behind nine locks, and when the old woman comes, I shall tell her that my youngest son is dead, but that she can take the two elder if she wishes.'

After seven years the old woman came, and demanded of the king his youngest son. He did just as he had planned. He locked up his youngest son behind nine locks, and said to the old woman: 'My youngest son is dead, but here are the other two, take them.' The old woman would not believe him. She searched every corner of the palace, opened the nine locks, and took away the young prince. She went homeward, and took him with her.

When they had gone a little way, they came to a brook where they found an old woman washing dirty linen. When she saw the beautiful prince she called him back, and said sadly to him: 'Dost thou know thou art being led into misfortune? Why dost thou go with that witch? Thou certainly canst not escape alive from her hands!' When the prince heard this, he went to the witch and said: 'Let me go and have a word with this old woman. I shall overtake thee in a minute.' The witch let him go.

The prince went back to his own home, filled a cup with water, and placed it near the fire. Having done this, he said: 'When that water changes to blood, I shall be dead, but as long as it is pure I shall be alive.' Then he went away, quickly overtook the witch, and they went on together.

At last they arrived in a dark ravine; the home of the witch was there in a rocky cave. In the house she had three daughters and two horses--one for herself and one for her daughters. The old woman went in, entrusted the prince to her daughters' care, and fell asleep.

Now this old witch had a habit of sleeping for seven days and nights, and it was impossible to rouse her.

When her daughters saw the prince they admired him very much, and said: 'It is a shame that so handsome a boy should be destroyed! Come, our mother shall not have him to eat; we must help him to escape in some way.' 'We will!' cried the sisters; and they thought of a plan of escape.

The eldest sister gave him her comb, and said: 'When my mother overtakes thee, throw this behind thee and hasten on; a thick forest will spring up between thee and my mother, who will have difficulty in passing through it.'

The second sister gave him a pair of scissors, and said: 'When my mother overtakes thee, throw these scissors behind thee--jagged rocks, hard as adamant, will rise between thee and my mother, who will have difficulty in crossing them, but hasten thou on.'

The youngest sister gave him a lump of salt, and said: 'When my mother overtakes thee, throw this behind thee--between you will roll a sea, which my mother will never cross.' Then they carefully saddled their own steed, gave the youth everything he wanted, and sent him away. He thanked them heartily and set out.

Seven days passed. The witch awoke, and looked for her dinner, but it was no longer there. She went to her steed and enquired of it, 'Shall we eat bread or shall we set out at once?' 'Whether we eat bread or not we cannot overtake him,' said the steed to the witch. She did not abandon her intention, but, having eaten bread, mounted her horse and set off in pursuit of the prince.

After riding some distance she overtook him. The prince looked back, and, seeing the old woman approach, drew the comb from his pocket and threw it down behind him. Between them, there rose a forest so thick that even a fly could not go through it. The old woman was annoyed and hindered, but at last, in some way or other, she passed through it.

When she reached the open country she spurred her horse on with might and main, and again approached the prince, who looked behind and saw the old woman. He took the scissors from his pocket, and threw them down. Between them appeared a jagged rock, hard as steel, so that no iron could cut it; the horse cut its feet, and, not being able to go any further, fell down; yet the old woman would not give in. She jumped from the horse's back and went forward on foot. She passed the rocks, reached the plain again, and hastened on.

She flew over the ground as if she had wings. The prince looked back, and saw how near the old woman was. He took the piece of salt from his pocket, and threw it behind him. There flowed between them a sea so vast that no bird could cross it. The old woman was not daunted, even by this, she waded into the sea, determined to cross it, but she was drowned.

The prince often looked behind, but he could no longer see the old woman. Then his heart was filled with joy, and he went on gaily. He himself knew not whither he went. He grew hungry and more hungry, until he was ravenous.

At last he saw a fire: he went up, and there was burning a huge fire, over which hung a kettle of arrack, and food cooking; around it lay nine devis, who were brothers. They were fast asleep, but there was a lame one watching as sentinel. The prince did not wait to ask leave of the devis; he came up, lifted the pot off the fire, took some food, and when he had eaten, put the pot back. He then lay down and began to snore loudly. The lame devi looked on with amazement from a distance.

A short time afterwards a devi awoke. He looked round and saw a human being sleeping there. He said joyfully: 'This will be a dainty morsel for us,' and went towards the boy. But the lame devi followed him and said: 'Leave him alone, lay not a hand upon him; he is to be feared--just now he took our pot from the fire, ate some food, and placed it on the fire again; he has done alone what is difficult for us ten.' The devi thought better of it, and turned away.

A second devi then rose and did the same, but the lame devi prevented him. As each devi awoke he went to the boy, but the lame devi took care of them.

When all the devis were roused and had begun to eat, the prince woke up too. He came to the devis and asked them to swear brotherhood. The devis said: 'Who art thou, who art so courageous? What brought thee here?' The prince answered: 'I was hungry, I saw the fire and I came to the fire.' Then the devis said: 'Very well, if thou wishest us to swear brotherhood with thee, first go till thou findest cross roads, there a maiden spreads out a handkerchief; if thou seizest this handkerchief and bringest it here, we shall swear brotherhood with thee; if thou failest, thou art none of us. Many have tried to take this handkerchief, but the maiden always kills them.' The devis thought that the prince would be killed too, and that they would thus get rid of him.

The prince set out and came to the cross roads, and, behold, a beautiful maiden flew down; a handkerchief was spread out in front of her, and hid her from his eyes. The prince came up and seized the handkerchief, but just as he was going away, the maiden attacked him. The prince was victorious in the fight. After the combat a golden slipper was left in the prince's hand.

He came to the devis with the handkerchief, and gave them the golden slipper, saying: 'Go to the town, change this for money, and bring it home.'

The devis sent the lame devi with the golden slipper. When he reached the town he met a merchant, to whom he showed the slipper. The merchant complained and said: 'My wife had golden slippers, thou must have stolen this one.' The devi said that they had found the slipper--he swore, but the merchant would not believe him. He took the slipper, and locked up the lame devi.

For a long time the other devis waited for their lame brother; they watched, but no lame devi was to be seen. Then they sent the ninth brother to seek him. When he arrived in the town where the devi had gone to exchange the golden slipper, he enquired after his lame brother. Hearing him ask for a lame devi, they said: 'This must be an accomplice of the thief,' and they locked him up too.

The remaining devis waited for their ninth brother, and when they saw that he did not come, the eighth was sent, but he also was taken; then the seventh, sixth, fifth, fourth, third, second, and at last the first devi went, but none of them returned.

The prince said to himself: 'What can have happened to these devis? I will go and seek them, and perchance find out what misfortune has overtaken them.' So he arose and went forth.