Chapter XXX: Section II: Orphan and Foundling Stories (2)

The prince was greatly grieved at his father's death, but after
a year of mourning he resolved to take a bride, and all the
maidens were bidden to a feast. The three daughters of
Rebuliina's mistress were invited, and the godmother directed
her in a dream to attire them first, and then to set out after
them. She grew very restless, and when her mistress and the
young ladies were gone, she sat down and wept bitter tears; but
a voice told her to make use of the casket, and immediately
magnificent gold-embroidered robes appeared on the bed; and as
soon as she had washed her face, she resumed her former
appearance, and was amazed at her own beauty when she looked in
the glass. When she went down-stairs, she found a magnificent
coach with four yolk-coloured horses at the door. Just as she
reached the palace, she found to her horror that she had
forgotten the casket, and was about to turn back, when a
swallow brought it to her. Everything in the palace was joy and
splendour; but as the princess entered, the other ladies paled
like stars before the sun, and the king never left her side. At
midnight the hall was suddenly
[Pg 279]
darkened, and then grew light again, when the godmother of the
princess appeared, and presented her to the king as the
adopted child of his father's first queen. Then there was a
loud noise, and she disappeared. The king married the
princess, and they lived happily together, but the casket was
seen no more, and it was supposed that the god-mother had
taken it with her.

THE ROYAL HERD-BOY.

( Kreutzwald .)

Once upon a time there lived a king who was so mild and good to his subjects that there was no one who did not bless him, and pray to the Heavenly Father to grant him a long life.

The king had lived happily with his wife for many years, but as
yet no child had blessed his marriage. Great was the rejoicing
of the king and all his subjects when at length the queen
brought a fair child into the world. But their happiness was
short-lived, for three days after the birth of the prince, the
mother closed her eyes for ever, leaving her child an orphan
and
[Pg 280]
her husband a widower. The king mourned grievously for the
loss of his dear consort, and his subjects mourned with him,
and there was not a cheerful face to be seen anywhere. Three
years afterwards the king married again, in deference to the
wishes of his subjects, but he was unfortunate in his second
choice. He had buried a dove and married a hawk in her place,
and unfortunately it goes thus with many widowers. The new
consort was a wicked, hard-hearted woman, who never showed any
good-will towards the king and his subjects. She could not
bear the sight of the former queen's son, as she feared that
the succession would fall to him, for the people loved him
greatly for his mother's sake. The crafty queen conceived the
wicked design of sending the boy to some place where the king
would be unable to discover him, for she had not courage to
murder him. She paid a wicked old woman a large sum to help
her to carry out her infamous design. The child was handed
over to the old woman at night, and she carried it far away
along unfrequented paths, and delivered it to some poor people
to adopt as their child. On the way, the old woman stripped
off the child's good
[Pg 281]

clothes, and wrapped it in rags, so that no one should discover
the deceit. The queen had bound her by a solemn oath never to
reveal to any one the place to which she had carried the
prince. The child-stealer did not venture to travel by day,
because she feared pursuit, so that it was a long time before
she found a sufficiently retired spot. At last she reached a
lonely house in a wood, where the feet of strangers rarely
penetrated, and she thought this a suitable abode for the
prince, and paid the peasant a hundred roubles for the expense
of bringing up the child. It was lucky for the prince that he
had fallen among good people, who cared for him as if he had
been their own dear child. The lively boy often made them
laugh, especially when he called himself a prince. They saw
from the liberal payment that they had received that the boy
could be from no common stock, and that he must be of noble
birth on either the father's or the mother's side, but their
ideas never soared high enough to fancy the boy's sallies to be
actual truth.

It can easily be imagined how great was the consternation at
the palace when it was discovered in the morning that the
prince had been stolen during
[Pg 282]
the night, and in so strange a manner that no one had heard
anything, and that not the slightest trace of the thief was
left behind. The king wept bitterly for days for his son, whom
he loved so tenderly in remembrance of his mother, and all the
more because he was so unhappy with his new consort. Every
place was searched thoroughly for a long time for some trace
of the vanished child, and a great reward was offered to any
one who could give any information; but every effort was vain,
and it seemed as if the boy had been blown away. None of the
searchers found his way to the lonely cottage in the wood
where the prince lived, and no one brought the news to the
inhabitants. No one could discover the secret, and many people
thought that the prince had been carried away by an evil
spirit or by witchcraft. But while the prince was wept for at
home as if he was dead, he grew up in the lonely forest, and
prospered wonderfully, till he grew to such an age that he was
fit for work. Meantime he developed such wonderful
intelligence, that his foster-parents were often obliged to
admit that the egg was much cleverer than the hen.

The prince had lived thus for more than ten years, when he
became anxious to associate with
[Pg 283]
other people. He begged his foster-parents to allow him to
earn his bread with his own hands, and said, "I have strength
and understanding enough to keep myself without your help. I
find the time very long during this lonely life here." His
foster-parents opposed the plan at first, but were at length
obliged to consent and to gratify the young fellow's wish. The
peasant himself accompanied him in search of suitable
employment. He found a rich farmer in a village who wanted a
herd-boy, and as his foster-son wanted just such a post, they
soon came to an agreement. The arrangement was made for a
year, but it was settled that the boy might leave his
employment at any time and return to his foster-parents. It
was also settled that if the farmer was dissatisfied with the
boy, he might send him away during the course of the year, but
not without informing his foster-parents.

The village where the prince had thus taken service was not far
from a great highway, along which many people passed daily,
both high and low. The royal herd-boy often sat close to the
road, and talked to the passers-by, from whom he learned many
things which would otherwise
[Pg 284]
have remained unknown to him. So it happened one day that an
old man with grey hair and a long white beard passed that way
when the prince was sitting on a stone and playing the flute
while the animals were grazing, and if one of them strayed too
far from the others, the boy's dog drove it back. The old man
gazed awhile at the boy and his flock, and then he went a few
paces nearer and said, "You don't seem to have been born a
herd-boy." The boy answered, "It may be so; I only know that I
was born to be a ruler, and first learned the business of a
ruler. If it goes well with the quadrupeds, I will perhaps try
my fortune later on with the bipeds." The old man shook his
head in wonder and went his way. Another time a handsome coach
passed by, in which sat a lady and two children. There was a
coachman on the box and a footman behind. The prince happened
to have a basket of freshly-plucked strawberries in his hand,
which attracted the notice of the proud Saxon lady.
[151] She ordered the coachman to stop, and called out from the
coach-window, "Come here, you lout, and bring me the
strawberries. I will give you a few copecks for
[Pg 285]
them, to buy wheaten bread." The royal herd-boy did as if he
had heard nothing, and did not imagine that the order was
addressed to him, while the lady called out a second and a
third time; but it was as if she had spoken to the wind. Then
she called to the footman behind, "Go and give that vagabond a
box on the ear, to teach him to listen." The footman jumped
down to execute the order. But before he reached him, the
herd-boy jumped up, seized a thick stick, and called out to
the footman, "If you don't want a broken head, don't come a
step nearer, or I'll smash your face." The footman went back
and reported the occurrence. Then the lady cried out angrily,
"What, you rascal, are you afraid of this lout of a boy? Go
and take away his basket by force. I'll show him who I am, and
I'll punish his parents too, for not bringing him up better."

"Oho!" cried the herd-boy, who heard the order. "As long as
there is any life in my limbs, nobody shall deprive me of my
rightful property by force. I'll stamp anybody to broth who
tries to rob me of my strawberries." As he spoke, he spat on
his hands, and whirled his cudgel round his head till it
whistled. When the footman
[Pg 286]
saw it, he had not the least desire to attempt it, but the
lady drove away with violent threats, declaring that she would
not permit this insult to remain unpunished. Other herd-boys
who had seen and heard the affair from a distance related it
to their companions in the evening. The people were all
frightened, for they thought it would fare ill with them also
if the great lady complained to the authorities about the
boy's stupid obstinacy and an inquiry was ordered. The
prince's master scolded him, and said, "I can't say anything
in your favour, and what you've cooked you must eat yourself."
The boy replied, "I shall come off scatheless; that's my
affair. God has put a mouth in my head and a tongue in my
mouth, and I can speak for myself if necessary, and I won't
ask you to be my advocate. If the lady had asked for the
strawberries in a proper way, I would have given them to her;
but how dared she call me a lout? My nose
[152] is just as clean as hers."

Meantime the lady drove to the royal city, where she had
nothing more pressing to do than to complain to the authorities
of the insolent behaviour
[Pg 287]
of the herd-boy. An investigation was ordered at once, and the
youth and his master were ordered to appear before the
authorities. When the messenger entered the village to enforce
the order, the prince said, "My master has nothing to do with
this affair, and I myself must answer for what I did
yesterday." They wanted to bind his hands behind his back, and
to lead him before the court as a prisoner, but he drew a
sharp knife from his pocket, stepped some paces back, turned
the point against his breast, and cried out, "No one shall
bind me while I live! Rather than let you bind me, I will
thrust the knife into my heart. You may then bind my corpse,
or do whatever you please with it, but no man shall lay a cord
or fetter on me while I live. I am quite ready to appear
before the court and give evidence, but I will never go there
as a prisoner." His boldness frightened the messengers, and
they were afraid to approach him, for they feared that the
blame would fall on them if the boy carried out his threat;
and as he was ready to go with them of his own accord, they
were obliged to be content. On the way, the messengers
wondered more and more at the understanding and
[Pg 288]
cleverness of their prisoner, for he knew everything better
than they did themselves. But much greater was the
astonishment of the judges when they heard the account of the
affair from the boy's own mouth. He spoke so clearly and
reasonably that they gave judgment in his favour, and
acquitted him of all blame. The great lady then applied to the
king, who promised to investigate the whole affair himself;
but he also was forced to agree with the judges and to
pronounce the youth innocent. The lady was now ready to burst
with rage at the thought that a peasant boy should have gained
a verdict in her despite. She complained to the queen, knowing
that she was very much harsher than the king. "My consort,"
said the queen, "is an old idiot, and his judges are all
fools. It is a pity that you brought the matter before the
court, instead of coming to me, for I would have managed the
affair differently, and would have done you justice. Now that
the matter has passed through the court, and the judgment is
confirmed by the king, I am no longer in a position to put a
better face on it openly, but we must see how we can arrange
to punish the youth without attracting attention." It occurred
[Pg 289]
to the lady that there lived a very ill-tempered peasant woman
on her estate, with whom no servant would stay, while her
husband said that his life with her was more uncomfortable
than if he was in hell. If the impudent boy could be induced
to go to her as herd-boy, she thought the woman would give him
a severer punishment than any judge could inflict upon him.
"I'll arrange the matter just as you wish," said the queen. So
she summoned a trustworthy messenger, and instructed him what
to do. If she had had the least idea that the herd-boy was the
exiled prince, she would have had him put to death at once,
without troubling herself about the king or the judges'
decision.

As soon as the prince's master heard the queen's desire, he at
once released the herd-boy from his service. He thanked his
stars that he had got out of the scrape so easily. The queen's
messenger now took the lad to the farm to which she had
consigned him without his consent. The wicked old woman shouted
for joy when she heard that the queen had found her a herd-boy,
and sent word that she might treat him as she pleased, because
the youth was very perverse, and nothing good was to
[Pg 290]
be got out of him. She did not know how hard the new millstone
was, and hoped to treat him in her usual fashion; but she was
soon to discover that this fence was too high to jump over,
and that the youth would not sacrifice a hair's-breadth of his
rights. If she gave him a single bad word without cause, he
gave her a dozen back; and if she lifted her hand against him,
he caught up a stone or a log of wood, or anything else which
happened to come to hand, and cried out, "Don't dare to come a
step nearer, or I'll split your skull and mash you to soup."
The woman had never heard such language from anybody, least of
all from her servants; but her husband rejoiced in secret when
he heard her quarrelling, and he did not stand by his wife,
for the boy did not neglect his duty. The woman tried to break
the boy's spirit with hunger, and refused him food, but the
boy helped himself by force to whatever he could find, and
helped himself to milk from the cow besides, so that he was
never hungry. The more difficult she found it to manage the
boy, the more she vented her rage on her husband and others
about her. When the prince had led this vexatious life for
some weeks, and found that each day was like the other, he
determined to pay the
[Pg 291]
old woman out for her wickedness in such a fashion that the
world should be quite rid of such a monster. In order to carry
out his design, he caught a dozen wolves and shut them up in a
cave, and he threw them a beast from his flock every day, so
that they should not starve. Who can describe the woman's rage
when she saw her property gradually dwindling, for every day
the boy brought home an animal less than he had taken to
pasture in the morning, and his only answer when questioned
was, "The wolves have devoured it." She screamed like a
maniac, and threatened to throw the boy to the wild beasts to
devour, but he answered, laughing, "Wouldn't your own savage
meat be better for them?" Then he left the wolves for three
days without food in the cave, and at night, when every one
was asleep, he drove the herd from their stall, and put the
twelve wolves in instead, fastening the door securely, so that
the wild beasts should not escape. When he had thus arranged
everything, he turned his back on the farm, for he had long
been tired of playing herd-boy, and now felt strong enough for
greater undertakings.
[153]
[Pg 292]

But what horrors happened next morning, when the woman went into the stall to let out the animals and to milk the cows! The wolves, maddened with hunger, rushed upon her, pulled her down, and devoured the whole of her, clothes and skin, and hair and all, so that nothing remained but her tongue and heart, which were too poisonous for even the wild beasts to touch. Neither her husband nor her servants lamented the misfortune, for every one was delighted to be rid of such an infernal woman.

The prince wandered about the world for some years, trying his
hand first at one trade and then at another, but he never
stayed long in one place, for the recollections of his
childhood, which hovered about him like vivid dreams, always
warned him that he was born to a higher condition. From time to
time he encountered the old man again, who had read this in his
eyes while he was still a herd-boy. When the prince was
eighteen years old, he engaged himself to a gardener to learn
gardening. Just at this time an event happened which changed
the course of his life. The wicked old woman who had
[Pg 293]
taken him away by the queen's orders, and had given him into
the charge of the people at the forest-farm, confessed her
crime to the priest on her death-bed, for her soul was
burdened with the weight of her sins, and could not find rest
till she had revealed it. She indicated the farmhouse to which
she had brought the child, but could not tell whether the
prince was now living or dead. The priest hastened to the king
with the joyful tidings that a trace of his lost son was found
at last. The king informed no one of what he had heard, but
immediately ordered his horse to be saddled, and set out on
his way with three faithful attendants. In a few days they
reached the farm in the wood. Both the farmer and his wife
confirmed the fact that at such and such a time a male child
had been given into their charge to rear, and that they had
received one hundred roubles at the same time for their
expenses. They had concluded from this circumstance that the
child was probably of high birth, but they had never supposed
that he was of royal descent, and had thought that the boy was
only jesting when he had called himself a prince. Then the
farmer himself attended the king to the village where he had
taken the youth as herd-boy, not, indeed, by his own wish, but
at the request
[Pg 294]
of the boy, who could not live longer in that lonely place.
But how shocked was the farmer, and still more the king, when
they did not find the boy, who must now be grown to a young
man, in the village, and could learn no further tidings of
him! All that the people could tell them was that the boy was
summoned before the court at the suit of a noble lady, and
that he had been acquitted and set at liberty; but after this
one of the queen's servants had taken the boy away and put him
to service at another farm. The king hastened thither, and
found that his son had indeed been there for a few weeks, but
he had fled, and nothing more had been heard of him. Where
should they now seek for advice, and who was able to direct
their search aright?

While the king was thus greatly troubled at losing all traces
of his son, the old man who had several times encountered the
prince presented himself and said that he knew such a young man
as they sought for, who had first served as a herdsman and had
afterwards worked at several other occupations, and that he
hoped to be able to discover him. The king promised the old man
a rich reward if he could help him to find his son, and he
ordered one of his attendants to dismount from his
[Pg 295]
horse, and pressed the old man to mount, so that they could
travel quicker; but he said, smiling, "No matter how fast a
horse can run, my legs can run as fast, for they have
traversed larger districts of the world than any horse." In
fact, in a week's time they came upon the traces of the
prince, and found him in the grounds of a magnificent mansion,
where he was engaged as gardener. The king's joy was unbounded
when he recovered his son, whom he had mourned for so many
years as dead. Tears of joy streamed down his cheeks as he
strained his son to his breast and kissed him. But he heard
tidings from his son's mouth which damped the joy of their
meeting, and caused him fresh trouble. The gardener had a
young and beautiful daughter, fairer than all the flowers in
this splendid garden, and as pure and good as an angel. The
prince had lost his heart to this maiden, and he told his
father plainly that he would never marry a lady of higher
rank, but would take the gardener's daughter as his consort,
even if he should be forced to abandon his kingdom for her.
"Come home first," said the king, "and afterwards we will talk
the matter over." Then the prince asked his father for a
costly gold ring, and
[Pg 296]
put it on the maiden's finger before the eyes of all, saying,
"With this ring I betroth thee, and I will return, whether the
time be long or short, to claim thee as my bride." But the
king answered, "No, not so; the affair shall be arranged
otherwise." He took the ring from the maiden's finger and
clove it in twain with his sword. One half he gave to his son,
and the other to the gardener's daughter, and said, "If God
has created you for one another, the two halves of the ring
will grow together of themselves at the proper time, so that
the point at which the ring was divided cannot be detected.
Let each keep their half till the time shall be fulfilled."

The queen was ready to burst with rage when she saw her
stepson, whom she thought had disappeared for ever, suddenly
return as the undisputed heir to the throne, for the king had
only two daughters by his second marriage. A few years
afterwards the king closed his eyes in death, and his son
became king. Notwithstanding the great wrongs which he had
received from his stepmother, he would not return evil for
evil, but left her to the justice of God. Although she no
longer hoped to set one of her daughters on the throne in his
place,
[Pg 297]
she hoped at least to wed him to a noble lady of her own
family; but he answered, "I will not consent, for I have
chosen my bride long since." When the queen-dowager learned
that the young king was resolved to marry a maiden of low
birth, she incited the highest councillors of the kingdom to
attempt unanimously to prevent it. But the king remained firm,
and would not yield. After the matter had been discussed for a
long time, the king announced his final decision. "We will
give a great feast, and invite all the princesses and all the
other unmarried ladies of high birth; and if I find one among
them who surpasses my chosen bride in grace and beauty, I will
marry her. But if this is not the case, my betrothed shall
become my consort."

Thereupon a magnificent feast was prepared in the royal palace,
which was to last a fortnight, that the king might have full
opportunity of considering whether any of the ladies surpassed
the gardener's daughter. All the great ladies in the
neighbourhood were invited to bring their daughters to the
feast, and as the object of the gathering was generally known,
every maiden hoped that the great prize would fall to her. The
feast drew to a close, and yet the king had not met with one
who pleased his
[Pg 298]
fancy. On the last day of the feast the highest councillors of
the kingdom again presented themselves before the king, and
said, as the queen had instructed them, that if the king did
not make his choice before evening, an insurrection might
break out, for all his subjects wished the king to marry. The
king replied, "I will accede to the wish of my subjects, and
will announce my choice this evening." Then, unknown to the
others, he sent a trustworthy messenger to bring the
gardener's daughter away secretly, and to keep her in
concealment till evening. In the evening the royal palace was
ablaze with light, and all the great ladies were robed in
their most elegant attire, expecting the moment which should
bring them good fortune or the reverse. But the king advanced
to a young lady in the hall who was so muffled up that you
could hardly see the tip of her nose. All were struck with the
simple dress of the stranger. She was clothed in fine white
linen, and wore neither silk, satin, nor gold, while all the
other ladies were robed from head to foot in silks and satins.
Some curled their lips, and others turned up their noses, but
the king took no notice, but loosed the maiden's head-gear,
and led her to the
[Pg 299]
queen-dowager, saying, "Here is my chosen bride, whom I will
take as my consort, and I invite all who are here assembled to
my wedding." The queen-dowager cried out angrily, "What better
could be expected of a man who was reared as a herd-boy? If
you want to go back to your business, take the maid with you,
who may perhaps understand tending swine, but is quite unfit
for a king's consort. Such a peasant girl can only disgrace
the throne of a king." These words moved the king to anger,
and he answered sternly, "I am king, and can do what I will,
but woe to you who have brought my former condition to my
remembrance; and you have also reminded me who reduced me to
this. However, as no sensible man buys a cat in a sack, I will
show you all before we separate that I could nowhere have
found a more suitable bride than this very maiden, who is as
pure and good as an angel from heaven." As he spoke, he left
the room, but soon returned with the old man whom he had known
ever since he was a herd-boy, and who had afterwards put the
king on the track of his son. The old man was a famous
sorcerer from Finland, who knew many secret arts. The king
said, "Mighty sorcerer, show us by your
[Pg 300]
art the inmost character of the maidens here present, that we
may know which of them is most worthy to become my bride." The
sorcerer took a bottle filled with a liquid that looked like
wine, muttered a spell over it, and directed the maidens to
gather in the midst of the hall. He then sprinkled a few drops
on the head of each, and they all fell asleep as they stood.
But what a wonderful thing now happened! In a short time they
were all so transformed that none retained her human shape,
but some were changed into snakes, wolves, bears, toads,
swine, or cats, and others became hawks or other birds of
prey. But among all these bestial forms was a beautiful
rose-bush, covered with flowers, and with two doves nestling
on its branches. And this was the gardener's daughter whom the
king had chosen as his consort. Then said the king, "We have
now seen the inmost kernel of each, and I am not going to let
myself be dazzled by the outer shell." The queen-dowager could
not contain herself for rage, but the matter was so clear that
she was unable to help herself. Then the sorcerer fumigated
all the maidens with magic herbs, which roused them from their
sleep and restored them to their human shapes. The
[Pg 301]
king received his beloved from the rose-bush, and asked for
her half-ring, and when the maiden drew it from her bosom, he
took his own half-ring, and laid them together on the palm of
his hand, when the two halves immediately united, and no eye
could perceive a crack or any indication of the spot where the
sword-stroke had cleft the ring. "Now my honoured father's
wish has come to pass," said the young king, and celebrated
his union with the gardener's daughter on the same evening. He
invited all those present to a wedding-feast, but the noble
ladies had learned what wonders had taken place during their
sleep, and they returned home full of shame. But so much the
greater was the joy of the king's subjects that their queen
was a perfect woman both in form and character.

When the wedding festivities were ended, the king assembled all
the leading judges of the kingdom and asked them what
punishment was fitting for a criminal who had secretly stolen
away the king's son, and had him brought up in a peasant's cot
as a herd-boy, and had afterwards treated the youth with
insolent contempt after he had recovered his former position.
All the judges answered with one accord, "Such a criminal is
worthy to die on the
[Pg 302]
gallows." Then said the king, "Good! let the queen-dowager be
brought to trial." The queen-dowager was summoned, and the
sentence was announced to her. When she heard it, she turned
as white as the wall, and fell on her knees before the young
king pleading for mercy. The king said, "I give you your life,
and I should never have brought you before the court if it had
not happened that you lately insulted me respecting the
misfortunes which I endured through your crime; but you cannot
remain in my kingdom any longer. You must pack up your goods
this very day, and quit my city before sundown. An escort will
accompany you to the frontier. But beware lest you ever set
foot again in my territories, for any man, even the meanest,
has leave to kill you like a mad dog. Your daughters, who are
also the daughters of my honoured father, may remain here, for
they are innocent of the crimes which rest upon your soul."

Now that the queen-dowager was banished, the young king built
two pretty houses near his city, one of which he assigned to
the parents of his bride, and the other to his own
foster-father, who had so carefully brought up the helpless
prince.
[Pg 303]
The prince who had grown up as a herd-boy and his low-born
bride lived happily to the end, and ruled their subjects with
as much affection as parents their children.

The story of Tiidu
[154] the Flute-player introduces us to a mysterious old man,
and is therefore given a place after the narrative of the
stolen prince. It contains many points of interest, including
the cosmopolitan incident of the Nose-tree (which, however,
some critics suggest is probably a recent addition); but it is
long and tedious in the original, and therefore only an
abstract is given here.

TIIDU THE FLUTE-PLAYER.

A poor man with a large family had among them a lazy useless
son who would do nothing but play tunes on a willow-pipe. One
day a strange old man passed by, and asked what trade he would
prefer. He replied that he would like to be rich and
independent. The old man advised him to make use of the gift he
had, and to earn money
[Pg 304]
enough by playing on his willow-flute to buy a flute.
[155] So Tiidu left his home without telling his parents of his
intention, but they were glad enough to be rid of him. He
wandered from village to village till he had earned enough
money to buy a good flute, and in a few years he became a
famous and prosperous flute-player. But his avarice left him no
peace, and he heard so much of the wealth of the land of
Kungla, that he longed to go there to make his fortune.

One day he arrived at the town of Narva, where he found a ship
just sailing for Kungla; but as he could not afford to pay his
passage, he contrived to smuggle himself on board with the aid
of one of the sailors. On the following night, Tiidu's friend
threw him into the sea with a rope round his body, when Tiidu
began to cry for help, and his friend roused the other sailors.
The captain crossed himself thrice, and on being assured by the
sailors that it was not a spirit but a mortal man, ordered a
rope to be thrown to the aid of the swimmer. As soon as
[Pg 305]

Tiidu seized the rope, he cut away that which was fastened
round him, and on being hauled on board, pretended to have swum
from the shore. On this the captain offered him a free passage,
and he amused the crew with his flute during the voyage.

When Tiidu reached Kungla, he set out for the capital, which he found to be a city of great wealth and splendour. He was afraid to try his luck with his flute, and after many days he succeeded in obtaining a post as kitchen-boy. All the utensils were of gold and silver, the food was cooked in silver pots, the cakes were baked in silver pans, and dinner was served up in golden cups and dishes, and even the pigs fed from silver pails. Tiidu's month's wages were larger than he would have earned in a year at home, but still he was very discontented.

One day Tiidu's master gave a christening, and distributed fine
clothes to his servants; and next Sunday Tiidu put them on and
went to a pleasure-garden, where he met his old friend who had
advised him to play the flute, and who now reproached him for
having neglected to use it in Kungla. He made him fetch it and
begin to play, when a crowd gathered round, who made a good
collection for
[Pg 306]
Tiidu. The old man gave Tiidu full instructions how to follow
the vocation of a flute-player profitably, and Tiidu followed
his advice and grew very rich.

At last he decided to return home, and chartered a ship to convey himself and his treasures to his native land; but a great storm arose, the ship was wrecked, and only Tiidu contrived to struggle ashore. He lay dazed for a time, and dreamed that the old man visited him, and gave him a pull from his flask. Next morning, much refreshed, he wandered into the country, which he found to be an uninhabited island. He now repented of his undutiful conduct in leaving his parents, and felt his sad plight to be a fitting punishment for his fault.

All at once he saw a tree with beautiful red apples, feasted on
them, lay down to sleep for the night, breakfasted on the
apples, and walked on; but on stooping down to drink at a
spring, he saw to his horror that his nose hung down to his
middle, and looked like the wattles of an enraged turkey-cock;
and the more he lamented his misfortune, the bigger and bluer
became his nose. At last he discovered a nut-tree, and found
that eating a few nuts restored his nose to its natural state.
So he laid in a stock
[Pg 307]
of nuts, wove himself a basket, which he filled with apples,
and then slept under the tree, when the old man appeared to
him in a dream, advised him to return to the shore, and gave
him a new flute.

When he reached the shore, he was picked up by a passing vessel, and returned to Kungla, where he disguised himself, sold the apples at the palace, and next day presented himself in another guise as a learned foreign physician to cure the king and the royal family of the turkey-disease. In return, Tiidu asked only as much reward as would enable him to purchase an estate on which he could live comfortably for the rest of his life, but the king cheerfully gave him three times as much as he asked, and Tiidu then went to the harbour and sailed home. First, however, he paid his passage-money to the captain who had rescued him from the desert island.

On reaching home, Tiidu found his father and several brothers
and sisters still living, but his mother and some of his
brothers were dead. He bought an estate, invited the whole
family to a great feast, and revealed himself to them, and he
insisted that they should all settle on his estate,
[Pg 308]
and that his father should stay with him in his own house as
long as he lived.

A little later he married a good and pretty but dowerless girl, and on entering the bridal chamber they found that it contained all the treasures which Tiidu had lost at sea, with a paper attached: "Even the depths of the sea restore the treasures which they have stolen to a good son who cares for parents and relatives." But Tiidu never discovered anything about the aged enchanter who had been his friend and protector.

THE LUCKY EGG.

( Kreutzwald .)

Once upon a time a poor man lived in a great forest with his
wife. God had given them eight children, and the elder ones
were already earning their living with strangers. So the
parents were not much rejoiced when a ninth little son was born
to them in their old age. But as God had given it to them, they
were obliged to accept it, and to have it christened according
to Christian usage. But they could find no one willing to stand
sponsor for
[Pg 309]
the child, for everybody thought that if the parents died, the
child would be left a burden on their hands. Then said the
father, "I will take the child and carry it to church next
Sunday, and say that although I can find no sponsors for the
child, the parson may please himself. Then, whether he
christens the child or not, no sin can rest on my soul."

When he set out on Sunday, he found a beggar sitting by the
wayside near his house, who asked for alms. The father said, "I
have nothing to give you, dear brother, for I must pay out the
few copecks which I have in my pocket for the christening. But
if you will do me a kindness, come and stand godfather to my
child, and afterwards go home with me, and share the
christening feast which my good wife has prepared." The beggar,
who had never before been invited to stand godfather to
anybody's child, joyfully accepted the man's proposal, and went
with him to the church. Just as they arrived, a magnificent
carriage and four drove up, and a young Saxon lady alighted
from it. The poor man thought, "Now I'll try my luck for the
last time." He bowed respectfully to the unknown lady, and
said, "Noble lady, whoever
[Pg 310]
you may be! will you not have the kindness to stand godmother
to my child?" The lady consented.

When the child was brought up to be baptized after the sermon,
the parson and the congregation were much surprised to see a
poor beggar-man and a proud handsome lady standing together as
sponsors for the child. The child was baptized by the name of
Pärtel.
[156] The rich lady paid the christening fees, and also made a
christening present of three roubles, which much rejoiced the
child's father. The beggar went home to the christening feast.
Before leaving in the evening, he took from his pocket a small
box wrapped in a piece of rag, and gave it to the child's
mother, saying, "My christening gift is poor enough, but do not
despise it, for it may possibly bring your son good fortune
some day. I had a very clever aunt, who understood all sorts of
magic arts, and before she died she gave me the bird's egg in
this little box, saying, 'When something quite unexpected
happens to you, which you could never have imagined, then part
with this egg. If it comes into the possession of him for whom
it is destined, it may bring him great good
[Pg 311]
fortune. But guard the egg like the apple of your eye, that it
does not break, for the shell of fortune is tender.' But
although I am nearly sixty years old, nothing unexpected has
happened to me till to-day, when I was invited to stand as
godfather, and my first thought was, You must give the egg to
the child as a christening gift."

The little Pärtel grew and prospered, and became the delight of
his parents, and at the age of ten he was sent to another
village to become herd-boy to a rich farmer. All the people of
the household were well satisfied with the herd-boy, as he was
a good quiet fellow, who never gave any annoyance to his
companions. When he left home, his mother put his christening
gift in his pocket, and charged him to keep it as safe as the
apple of his eye, and Pärtel did so. There was an old lime-tree
in the pasturage, and a large granite rock lay under it. The
boy was very fond of this place, and every day in summer he
used to go and sit on the stone under the lime-tree. Here he
used to eat the lunch which was given him every morning, and he
quenched his thirst at a little brook hard by. Pärtel had no
friendship with the other herd-boys, who were up to all sorts
of pranks. It was remarkable that there was no such fine grass
[Pg 312]
anywhere as between the stone and the spring, and although the
flocks grazed here every day, next morning the grass looked
more like that of an enclosed meadow than of a pasturage.

When Pärtel slept a little while on the stone on a hot day, he
had wonderfully pleasant dreams, and when he awoke, the sounds
of music and song were still in his ears, so that he dreamed on
after his eyes were open. The stone was like a dear friend to
him, and he parted from it every day with a heavy heart, and
returned to it next day full of longing. Thus Pärtel lived till
he was fifteen years old, and was no longer to be herd-boy. His
master now employed him as a farm-labourer, but did not give
him any heavier work than he was able to accomplish. On Sundays
and summer evenings, the other young men used to go to visit
their sweethearts, but Pärtel did not join their company. He
stole away, in deep meditation, to his favourite lime-tree in
the pasturage, and often sat under it for half the night. One
Sunday evening he was sitting on the stone playing the flute,
when a milk-white snake crept out from under the stone. It
raised its head as if to listen, and looked at Pärtel with its
bright eyes, which shone like fire. This
[Pg 313]
happened often, and whenever Pärtel had any time to spare, he
used to hasten to the stone to see the beautiful white snake,
which at last became so familiar with him that it often coiled
round his leg.

Pärtel was now growing up to be a young man; his father and
mother were dead, and his brothers and sisters lived widely
scattered, and seldom heard any tidings of each other, and
still more rarely met. But the white snake had grown dearer to
him than his brothers and sisters, and his thoughts were with
her by day, and he dreamed of her almost every night. This made
the wintertime seem very long to him, when the earth was frozen
and the snow lay deep on the ground. When the sun-rays melted
the snow in spring and the ground was thawed, Pärtel's first
walk was to the stone under the lime-trees, though there was
not a leaf to be seen upon the tree as yet. O what joy! As soon
as he breathed forth his longing in the notes of the flute, the
white snake crept out from under the stone, and played about
his feet. But it seemed to Pärtel to-day that the snake shed
tears, and this made his heart sad. He now let no evening pass
without visiting the stone, and the snake grew continually
tamer, and she would let [Pg 314] him stroke her; but if he
tried to hold her fast, she slipped through his fingers, and
crept back under the stone.

On Midsummer Eve all the villagers, old and young, went
together to St. John's fire. Pärtel was not allowed to stay
behind, though his heart drew him in another direction. But in
the midst of the fun, when all the others were singing,
dancing, and amusing themselves, he slipped away to the
lime-tree, the only place where his heart was at ease. When he
drew near, he saw a clear bright fire shining from the stone,
which surprised him very much, for, as far as he knew, nobody
but himself ever visited the spot. But when he reached the
stone, the fire had disappeared, without leaving either ashes
or sparks behind it. He sat down on the stone, and began to
play on his flute as usual. All at once the fire blazed up
again, and it was nothing else than the sparkling eyes of the
white snake. She played about his feet again, allowed him to
stroke her, and gazed at him as wistfully as if she was going
to speak. It must have been almost midnight when the snake
crept back to her nest under the stone, and did not reappear
while Pärtel was playing. As he took the
[Pg 315]

instrument from his mouth and put it in his pocket and prepared
to go home, the leaves of the lime-tree rustled in the breeze
so strangely that it sounded like a human voice, and he thought
he heard the following words repeated several times:

"Thin-shelled is the egg of Fortune,

And the heart is full of sorrow;

Venture not to spoil your fortune."

Thereupon he experienced such a painful longing that his heart was like to break, and yet he did not know himself what he pined for. He began to weep bitterly, and lamented, "What does the lucky egg avail me, when no happiness is permitted me in this world? I have felt from childhood that I was unfit to mix with men, for they do not understand me, and I do not understand them. What causes pleasure to them is painful to me, while I myself know not what could make me happy, and how then should others know it? Riches and poverty stood together as my sponsors, and therefore nothing will go right with me."

Suddenly it became as bright around him as if the mid-day sun
was shining on the lime-tree and the rock, and he could not
open his eyes for a time,
[Pg 316]
until he had got used to the light. Then he beheld a lovely
female figure sitting beside him on the stone, clad in
snow-white raiment, as if an angel had flown down from heaven.
The maiden's voice sounded sweeter to him than the song of the
nightingale as she addressed him. "Dear youth, fear nothing,
but give heed to the prayer of an unhappy girl. I am
imprisoned in a miserable dungeon, and if you do not pity me,
I can never hope to escape. O dear youth, take pity on me, and
do not cast me off! I am the daughter of a king of the East,
possessed of fabulous riches in gold and silver, but all this
avails me nothing, for an enchanter has compelled me to live
under this stone in the form of a white snake. I have lived
thus for many centuries, without ever growing older. Although
I never injured any human being, all fled before my shape, as
soon as they beheld me. You are the only living being who did
not fly at my approach; you have even allowed me to play about
your feet, and have often kindly stroked me with your hand.
Your kindness has led me to hope that you might be able to
effect my deliverance. Your heart is as pure as that of a
child, as yet ignorant of falsehood and deception. You have
[Pg 317]
all the signs which point to my rescue; a noble lady and a
beggar stood together as your sponsors, and your christening
gift was the egg of Good Fortune. I am only permitted to
resume my human form once in twenty-five years on Midsummer
Eve, and to wander about the earth for an hour, and if I
should meet with a youth pure in heart, and with your
peculiarities, who would listen to my request, I might be
released from my long imprisonment. Save me, O save me from
this endless imprisonment! I beseech you in the name of all
the angels."

Having thus spoken, she fell at Pärtel's feet, embraced his knees, and wept bitterly.

Pärtel's heart was melted by her tears and supplications, and he begged the maiden to stand up, and to tell him what he could do to rescue her. "If it was possible for me to save you," said he, "I would go through fire and water. I am filled with an unknown longing which allows me no peace; but what I long for, I cannot tell."

The maiden answered, "Come here again to-morrow evening about
sunset, and if I meet you in my snake-form, and wind myself
round your body like a girdle, and kiss you three times, do not
start or shrink back, or I shall again be overwhelmed by
[Pg 318]
the waters of enchantment, and who knows for how many
centuries?"

As she spoke, the maiden vanished from the youth's sight, and he again heard the sighing in the leaves of the lime-tree:

"Thin-shelled is the egg of Fortune,

And the heart is full of sorrow;

Venture not to spoil your fortune."