Part 13

“What I have done hitherto is little enough for a blockhead like thee,” she replied, and with that she gave her husband such a blow that it seemed to him as if the red dawn was flashing before him.

The next morning the wood-cutter rose early, saddled his ass, and went towards the mountains. All that he said to his wife before starting was to beg her not to follow him into the forest. This was quite enough for the wife. Immediately he was gone she saddled her ass, and after her husband she went without more ado. “Who knows,” murmured she to herself, “what he may not be up to in the mountains, if I am not there to look after him!”

The man saw that his wife was coming after him, but he made as if he did not see, never spoke a word, and as soon as he got to the foot of the mountain he set about wood-cutting. His wife, however, for she was a restless soul, went up and down and all about the mountain, poked her nose into everything, till at last her attention was fixed by a deserted well, and she made straight for it.

Then her husband cried to her: “Take care, there’s a well right before thee!”

The only effect this warning had upon the wife was to make her draw still nearer. Again he cried to her: “Dost thou not hear me speak to thee? Go not further on, for there’s a well in front of thee.”

“What do I care what he says?” thought she. Then she took another step forward, but before she could take another the earth gave way beneath her, and into the well she plumped. As for the husband, he was thinking of something else, for he always minded his own business, so, his work over, he took his ass and never stopped till he got home.

The next day, at dawn, he again arose, saddled the ass, and went to the mountains, when the thought of his wife suddenly came into his mind. “I’ll see what has become of the poor woman!” said he. So he went to the opening of the well and looked into it, but nothing was to be seen or heard of his wife. His heart was sore, for anyhow was she not his wife? and he began to think whether he could get her out of the well. So he took a rope, let it down into the well, and cried into the great depth thereof: “Catch hold of the rope, mother, and I’ll draw thee up!”

Presently the man felt that the rope had become very heavy. He pulled away at it with all his might, he tugged and tugged--what creature of Allah’s could it be that he was pulling out of the well? And lo! it was none other than a hideous ghost! The poor wood-cutter was sore afraid.

“Rise up, poor man, and fear not,” said the ghost. “The mighty Allah rather bless thee for thy deed. Thou hast saved me from so great a danger, that to the very day of judgment I will not forget thy good deed.”

Then the poor man began to wonder what this great danger might be.

“How many many years I lived peaceably in this well I know not,” continued the ghost, “but up to this very day I knew no trouble. But yesterday--whence she came I know not--an old woman suddenly plumped down on my shoulders, and caught me so tightly by both my ears, that I could not get loose from her for a moment. By a thousand good fortunes thou didst come to the spot, let down thy rope, and call to her to seize hold of it. For in trying to get hold of it she let me go, and I at once seized the rope myself, and, the merciful Allah be praised for it, here I am on dry land again. Good awaits thee for thy good deed; list now to what I say to thee!”

With that the ghost drew forth three wooden tablets, gave them to the wood-cutter, and said to him: “I now go to take possession of the daughter of the Sultan. Up to this day the princess has been hale and well, but now she will have leeches and wise men without number, but all in vain, not one of them will be able to cure her. Thou also wilt hear of the matter, thou wilt hasten to the Padishah, moisten these three wooden tablets with water, lay them on the face of the damsel, and I will come out of her, and a rich reward will be thine.”

With that the wood-cutter took the three tablets, put them in his pocket, and the ghost went to the right and he went to the left, and neither of them thought any more of the old woman in the well. But let us first follow the ghost.

Scarcely had this son of a devil quitted the wood-cutter than he stood in the Serai of the Padishah, and entered into the poor daughter of the Sultan. The poor girl immediately fell to the ground in great pain. “O my head! O my head!” she cried continually. They sent word to the Padishah, and he, hastening thither, found his daughter lying on the ground and groaning. Straightway he sent for leeches, wise men, drugs, and incense, but none of them assuaged her pain. They sent for them a second time, they sent for them a third time, but all their labour was in vain. At last they had ten doctors and ten wise men trying what they could do, and all the time the poor girl kept moaning: “My head, my head!”

“O my sweet child,” groaned the Padishah, “if thy head aches, believe me my head, and my heart also, ache a thousand times as much to hear thee. What shall I do for thee? I know what I will do. I will go call the astrologers, perchance they will know more than I do.” And with that he called together all the most famous astrologers in his kingdom. One of them had one plan, another had another, but not one of them could cure the complaint of the poor damsel.

But now let us see what became of the poor wood-cutter.

He lived on in the world without his wife, and gradually he forgot all about her, and about the ghost and the three wooden tablets, and the ghost’s advice and promise. But one day, when he had no thought at all of these things, a herald from the city of the Padishah came to where he was with a firman[16] in his hand, and read this out of it in a loud voice: “The damsel, the Sultan’s daughter, is very sick. The leeches, the wise men, the astrologers, all have seen her, and not one of them can cure her complaint. Whoever is a master of mysteries, let him come forward and doctor her. If he be a Mussulman, and cure her, the Sultan’s daughter now and my realm after my death shall be his reward; and if he be a Giaour[17] and cure her, all the treasures in my realm shall be his.”

The wood-cutter needed no more to remind him of the ghost, the three tablets, and his wife. He arose and went up to the herald. “By the mercy of Allah I will cure the Sultan’s daughter, if she be still alive,” said he. At these words the servant of the Padishah caught hold of the wood-cutter, and led him into the Serai.

Word was sent at once of his arrival to the Padishah, and in an instant everything was made ready for him to enter the sick chamber. There before him lay the poor damsel, and all she did was to cry continually: “My head, my head!” The wood-cutter brought forth the wooden tablets, moistened them, and scarcely had he spread them on the Sultan’s daughter than immediately she became as well again as if she had never been ill. At this there was great joy and gladness in the Serai, and they gave the daughter of the Sultan to the wood-cutter; so the poor man became the son-in-law of the Padishah.

Now this Padishah had a brother who was also a Padishah, and his kingdom was the neighbouring kingdom. He also had a daughter, and it occurred to the ghost of the well to possess her likewise.

So she also began to be tormented in the same way, and nobody could find a cure for her complaint. They searched and searched for assistance high and low, till at last they heard how the daughter of the neighbouring Padishah had been cured of a like sickness. So that other Padishah sent many men into the neighbouring kingdom, and begged the first Padishah, for the love of Allah, to send thither his son-in-law to cure the other damsel also. If he cured her he was to have the damsel for his second wife.

So the Padishah sent his son-in-law that he might cure the damsel--’twould be nothing to such a master of mysteries as he, they said. All that he could say was in vain, the poor fellow had to set out, and as soon as he arrived they led him at once into the sick-chamber. But now the ghost of the well had a word to say in the matter.

For that evil spirit was furious with his poor comrade. “Thou didst a good deed to me, it is true,” began the ghost, “but thou canst not say that I remained thy debtor. I left for thy sake the beautiful daughter of the Sultan, and I chose out another for myself, and thou wouldst now take her from me also? Well, wait a while, and thou shalt see that for this deed of thine I will take them _both_ away from thee.”

At this the poor man was sore troubled.

“I did not come hither for the damsel,” said he, “she is thy property, and, if such be thy desire, thou mayest take mine away also.”

“Then what’s thy errand here?” roared the ghost.

“Alas! ’tis my wife, the old woman of the well,” sighed the former wood-cutter, “and I only left her in the well that I might be rid of her.”

On hearing this the ghost was terribly frightened, and it was with a small voice that he now inquired whether by chance she had come to light again.

“Yes, indeed, she’s outside,” sighed the man, “wherever I may go I am saddled with her. I haven’t the heart to free myself from her. Hark! she’s at the door now, she’ll be in the room in a moment.”

The ghost needed no more. Forthwith he left the daughter of the Sultan, and the Serai, and the whole city, and the whole kingdom, so that not even the rumour of him remained. And not a child of man has ever seen him since.

But the daughter of the Sultan recovered instantly, and they gave her to the former wood-cutter, and he took her home as his second wife.

ROUMANIAN FAIRY TALES

THE STORY OF THE HALF-MAN-RIDING-ON-THE-WORSE-HALF-OF-A-LAME-HORSE

Once upon a time, long long ago, in the days when poplars bore pears and rushes violets, when bears could switch themselves with their tails like cows, and wolves and lambs kissed and cuddled each other, there lived an Emperor whose hair was already white, and who yet had never a son to bless himself with. The poor Emperor would have given anything to have had a little son of his own like other men, but all his wishes were in vain.

At last, when he was quite an old old man, Fortune took pity on him also, and a darling of a boy was born to him, the like of which the world had never seen before. The Emperor gave him the name of Aleodor, and gathered east and west, north and south, together to rejoice in his joy at the child’s christening. The revels lasted three days and three nights, and all the guests who made merry there with the Emperor could think of nothing else for the rest of their lives.

But the lad grew up as strong as an oak and as lovely as a rose, while his father the Emperor drew nearer every day to the edge of the grave, and when the hour of his death arrived he took the child on his knees and said to him:

“My darling son, behold the Lord calls me. The moment is at hand when I am to share the common lot of man. I foresee that thou wilt become a great man, and though I be dead my bones will rejoice in the tomb at thy noble deeds. As to the administration of this realm I need tell thee nought, for thou, with thy wisdom, wilt know how it behoves a king to rule. One thing there is, nevertheless, that I must tell thee. Dost thou see that mountain over yonder? Beware of ever setting thy foot upon it, for ’twill be to thy hurt and harm. That mountain belongs to the ‘Half-man-riding-on-the-worse-half-of-a-lame-horse,’ and whosoever ventures upon that mountain cannot escape unscathed.”

He had no sooner said these words than his throat rattled thrice, and he gave up the ghost. He departed to his place like every other human soul that is born into the world, though there was never Emperor like him since the world began. Those of his household bewailed him, his great nobles bewailed

[Illustration: The Emperor and the Young Aleodor.--p. 210.]

him, his people bewailed him also, and then they had to bury him.

Aleodor, from the moment that he ascended the throne of his father, ruled the land wisely like a mature statesman, though in age he was but a child. All the world delighted in his sway, and men thanked Heaven for allowing them to live in the days of such a prince.

All the time that was not taken up by affairs of State, Aleodor spent in the chase. But he always bore in mind the precepts of his father, and took care not to exceed the bounds which had been set him.

One day, however--how it came about I know not--but anyhow he fell into a brown study, and never noticed that he had overstepped the domains of the Half-man till, after taking a dozen steps or so onwards, he found himself face to face with the monster. That he was trespassing on the grounds of this stunted and terrible creature did not trouble him over-much, it was the thought that he had transgressed the dying command of his dear father that grieved him.

“Ho, ho!” cried the hideous monster, “dost thou not know that every scoundrel who oversteps my bounds becomes my property?”

“Yes,” replied Aleodor, “but I must tell thee that it was through want of thought and without wishing it that I have trodden on thy ground. Against thee I have no evil design at all.”

“I know better than that,” replied the monster; “but I see that, like all cowards, thou dost think it best to make excuses.”

“Nay, so sure as God preserves me, I am no coward. I have told thee the simple truth; but if thou wouldst fight, I am ready. Choose thy weapons! Shall we slash with sabres, or slog with clubs, or wrestle together?”

“Neither the one nor the other,” replied the monster. “One way only canst thou escape thy just punishment--thou must fetch me the daughter of the Green Emperor!”

Aleodor would very much have liked to have got out of the difficulty some other way, as affairs of State would not allow him to take so long a journey, a journey on which he could find no guide to direct him; but what did the monster know of all that? Aleodor felt that if he would avoid the shame of being thought a robber and a trampler on the rights of others, he must indeed find the daughter of the Green Emperor. Besides, he wanted to escape with a whole skin if he could; so at last he promised that he would do the service required of him.

Now the Half-man-riding-on-the-worse-half-of-a-lame-horse knew very well that, as a man of honour, Aleodor would never depart from his plighted word, so he said to him: “Go now, in God’s name, and may good luck attend thee!”

So Aleodor departed. He went on and on, thinking over and over again how he was to accomplish his task, and so keep his word, when he came to the margin of a pond, and there he saw a pike dashing its life out on the shore. He immediately went up to it to satisfy his hunger with it, when the pike said to him: “Slay me not, Boy-Beautiful![18] but cast me rather back into the water again, and then I will do thee good whenever thou dost think of me.”

Aleodor listened to the pike, and threw it back into the water again. Then the pike said to him again: “Take this scale, and whenever thou dost look at it and think of me I will be with thee.”

Then the youth went on further and marvelled greatly at such a strange encounter.

Presently he fell in with a crow that had one wing broken. He would have killed the crow and eaten it, but the crow said to him: “Boy-Beautiful, Boy-Beautiful! why wilt thou burden thy soul on my account? Far better were it if thou didst bind up my wing, and much good will I requite thee with for thy kindness.”

Aleodor listened, for his heart was as kind as his hand was cunning; and he bound up the crow’s wing. When he made ready to go on again, the crow said to him: “Take this feather, thou gallant youth! and whenever thou dost look at it and think of me, I will be with thee.”

Then Aleodor took the feather and went on his way. He hadn’t gone a hundred paces further when he stumbled upon an ant. He would have trodden upon it, when the ant said to him: “Spare my life, O Emperor Aleodor, and I’ll deliver thee also from death! Take this little bit of membrane from my wing, and whenever thou dost think of me, I’ll be with thee.”

When Aleodor heard these words, and how the ant called him by his name, he raised his foot again and let the ant go where it would. He also went on his way, and after journeying for I know not how many days he came at last to the palace of the Green Emperor. There he knocked at the door, and stood waiting for some one to come out and ask him what he wanted.

He stood there one day, he stood there two days, but as for any one coming out to ask him what he wanted, there was no sign of it. When the third day dawned, however, the Green Emperor called to his servants and gave them a talking to that they were likely to remember. “How comes it,” said he, “that a man should be standing at my gates three days without any one going out to ask him what he wants? Is this what I pay you wages for?”

The servants of the Green Emperor looked up, and they looked down, but they had not one word to say for themselves. At last they went and called Aleodor and led him before the Emperor.

“What dost thou want, my son?” inquired the Emperor; “and wherefore art thou waiting at the gates of my court?”

“I have come, great Emperor, to seek thy daughter.”

“Good, my son. But, first of all, we must make a compact together, for such is the custom of my court. Thou must hide thyself wheresoever thou wilt three times running. If my daughter finds thee all three times, thy head shall be struck off and stuck on a stake, the only one out of a hundred that has not a suitor’s head upon it. But if she does not find thee thrice, thou shalt have her from me with all imperial courtesy.”

“My hope, great Emperor, is in the Lord, Who will not allow me to perish. We will put something else on this stake of thine, but not the head of a man. Let us make the compact.”

“Thou dost agree?”

“I agree.”

So they made them a compact, and the deeds were drawn out and signed and sealed.

Then the daughter of the Emperor met him next day, and it was arranged that he should hide himself as best he could. But now he was in an agony that tortured him worse than death, for he bethought him again and again where and how he could best hide himself, for nothing less than his head was at stake. And as he kept walking about, and brooding and pondering, he remembered the pike. Then he took out the fish’s scale, looked at it, and thought of the fish’s master, and immediately, oh wonderful!--the pike stood before him and said: “What dost thou want of me, Boy-Beautiful?”

“What do I want? Thou mayest well ask that! Look what has happened to me! Canst thou not tell me what to do?”

“That is thy business no longer. Leave it to me!”

And immediately striking Aleodor with his tail, he turned him into a little shell-fish, and hid him among the other little shell-fish at the bottom of the sea.

When the damsel appeared, she put on her eye-glass and looked for him in every direction, but could see him nowhere. Her other wooers had hidden themselves in caves, or behind houses, or under haycocks and haystacks, or in some hole or corner, but Aleodor hid himself in such a way that the damsel began to fear that she would be vanquished. Then it occurred to her to turn her eye-glass towards the sea, and she saw him beneath a heap of mussels. But you must know that her eye-glass was a magic eye-glass.

“I see thee, thou rascal,” cried she, “how thou hast bothered me, to be sure! From being a man thou hast made thyself a mussel, and hidden thyself at the bottom of the sea.”

This he couldn’t deny, so of course he had to come up again.

But she said to the Emperor: “Methinks, dear father, this youth will suit me. He is nice and comely. Even if I find him all three times let me have him, for he is not stupid like the others. Why, thou canst see from his figure even how different he is.”

“We shall see,” replied the Emperor.

On the second day Aleodor bethought him of the crow, and immediately the crow stood before him, and said to him: “What dost thou want, my master?”

“Look now, senseless one! what has happened to me. Canst thou not show me a way out of it?”

“Let us try!” and with that it struck him with its wing and turned him into a young crow, and placed him in the midst of a flock of crows that were flying high in the air in the teeth of a fierce tempest.