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Breton Legends Part 21

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Peronnik was one of these poor idiots, to whom the charity of strangers had been in place of father or of mother. He wandered ever onwards unconscious whither; when he was thirsty, he drank from wayside springs; when hungry, he begged stale crusts from the women he saw standing at their doors; and when in need of sleep, he looked out for a heap of straw, and hollowed himself out a nest in it like a lizard.

As to any knowledge of a trade, Peronnik had, indeed, never learnt one; but for all that he was skilful enough in many matters: he could go on eating as long as you desired him to do so; he could outsleep any one for any length of time; and he could imitate with his tongue the song of larks. There is many a one now in these parts who cannot do so much as this.

At the time of which I am telling you (that is, many a hundred years ago and more), the land of White-Wheat was not altogether what you see it nowadays. Since then many a gentleman has devoured his inheritance, and cut up his forests into wooden shoes. Thus the forest of Paimpont extended over more than twenty parishes; some say it even crossed the river, and went as far as Elven. However that may be, Peronnik came one day to a farm built upon the border of the wood; and as the Benedicite bell had long since rung in his stomach, he drew near to ask for food.

The farmer's wife happened at that moment to be kneeling down on the door-sill to sc.r.a.pe the soup-bowl with her flint-stone; [61] but when she heard the idiot's voice asking for food in the name of G.o.d, she stopped and held the kettle towards him.

"Here," she cried, "poor fellow, eat these sc.r.a.pings, and say an 'Our Father' for our pigs, that nothing on earth will fatten."



Peronnik seated himself on the ground, put the kettle between his knees, and began to sc.r.a.pe it with his nails; but it was little enough he could succeed in finding, for all the spoons in the house had already done their duty upon it. However, he licked his fingers, and made an audible grunt of satisfaction, as if he had never tasted any thing better.

"It is millet-flour," said he, in a low voice,--"millet-flour moistened with the black cow's milk, [62] and by the best cook in the whole Low Country."

The farmer's wife, who was going by, turned round delighted.

"Poor innocent," said she, "there is little enough of it left; but I will add a sc.r.a.p of rye-bread."

And she brought the lad the first cutting of a round loaf just out of the oven. Peronnik bit into it like a wolf into a lamb's leg, and declared that it must have been kneaded by the baker to his lordship the Bishop of Vannes.

The flattered peasant replied, that was nothing to the taste of it when spread with fresh-churned b.u.t.ter; and to prove her words, she brought him some in a little covered saucer. After taking this, the idiot declared that this was living b.u.t.ter, not to be excelled by b.u.t.ter of the White Week itself; [63] and to give greater force to his words, he poured over his crust all that the saucer contained. But the satisfaction of the farmer's wife prevented her from noticing this; and she added to what she had already given him a lump of dripping left from the Sunday soup.

Peronnik praised every mouthful more and more, and swallowed every thing as if it had been water from a spring; for it was very long since he had made so good a meal.

The farmer's wife went and came, watching him as he ate, and adding from time to time sundry sc.r.a.ps, which he took, making each time the sign of the cross.

Whilst thus employed in recruiting himself, behold a knight appeared at the house-door, and addressing himself to the woman, asked her which was the road to Kerglas castle.

"Heavens! good gentleman," exclaimed the farmer's wife, "are you going there?"

"Yes," replied the warrior; "and I have come from a land so distant for this purpose, that I have been travelling night and day these three months to get so far on my way."

"And what are you come to seek at Kerglas?" asked the Breton woman.

"I am come in quest of the golden basin and the diamond lance."

"These two are, then, very valuable things?" asked Peronnik.

"They are of more value than all the crowns on earth," replied the stranger; "for not only will the golden basin produce instantaneously all the dainties and the wealth one can desire, but it suffices to drink therefrom to be healed of every malady; and the dead themselves are raised to life by touching it with their lips. As to the diamond lance, it kills and overthrows all that it touches."

"And to whom do this diamond lance and golden basin belong?" asked Peronnik, bewildered.

"To a magician called Rogear, who lives in the castle of Kerglas,"

answered the farmer's wife. "He is to be seen any day near the forest pathway, riding along upon his black mare followed by a colt of three months' old; but no one dares to attack him, for he holds the fearful lance in his hand."

"Yes," replied the stranger; "but the command of G.o.d forbids him to make use of it within the castle of Kerglas. So soon as he arrives there, the lance and the basin are deposited at the bottom of a dark cave, which no key will open; therefore, it is in that place I propose to attack the magician."

"Alas, you will never succeed, my good sir," replied the peasant woman. "More than a hundred gentlemen have already attempted it; but not one amongst them has returned."

"I know that, my good woman," answered the knight; "but they had not been instructed as I have by the Hermit of Blavet."

"And what did the Hermit tell you?" asked Peronnik.

"He warned me of all that I shall have to do," replied the stranger. "First of all, I shall have to cross an enchanted wood, wherein every kind of magic will be put in force to terrify and bewilder me from my way. The greater number of my predecessors have lost themselves, and there died of cold, hunger, or fatigue."

"And if you succeed in crossing it?" said the idiot.

"If I get safely through it," continued the gentleman, "I shall meet a Korigan armed with a fiery sword, which lays all it touches in ashes. This Korigan keeps watch beside an apple-tree, from which it is necessary that I should gather one apple."

"And then?" said Peronnik.

"Then I shall discover the laughing flower, and this is guarded by a lion whose mane is made of vipers. This flower I must also gather; after which I must cross the lake of dragons to fight the black man, who flings an iron bowl that ever hits its mark and returns to its master of its own accord. Then I shall enter on the valley of delights, where every thing that can tempt and stay the feet of a Christian will be arrayed before me, and shall reach a river with one single ford. There I shall meet a lady clad in sable whom I shall take upon my horse's crupper, and she will tell me all that remains to be done."

The farmer's wife did her best to persuade the stranger that it would be impossible for him to go through so many trials; but he replied that women were incapable of judging in so weighty a matter; and after ascertaining correctly the forest entrance, he set off at full gallop, and was soon lost among the trees.

The farmer's wife heaved a deep sigh, declaring that here was another soul going before our Lord for judgment; then giving some more crusts to Peronnik, she bade him go on his way.

He was about to follow her advice, when the farmer came in from the fields. He had just been turning off the lad who looked after his cows at the wood-side, and was revolving in his mind how his place should be supplied.

The sight of the idiot was to him as a ray of light; he thought he had happened on the very thing he sought, and after putting a few questions to Peronnik, he asked him bluntly if he would stay at the farm to look after the cattle. Peronnik would have preferred having no one but himself to look after, for no one had a greater apt.i.tude than he for doing nothing; but the taste of the lard, the fresh b.u.t.ter, the rye-bread, and the millet-flour hung still sweet upon his lips; so he suffered himself to be tempted, and accepted the farmer's proposal.

The good man forthwith conducted him to the edge of the forest, counted aloud all the cows, not forgetting the heifers, cut him a hazel-switch to drive them with, and bade him bring them safely home at set of sun.

Behold Peronnik now established as a keeper of cattle, watching over them to see they did no mischief, and running from the black to the red, and from the red to the white, to keep them from straying out of the appointed boundary.

Now whilst he was thus running from side to side, he heard suddenly the sound of horse's hoofs, and saw in one of the forest-paths the giant Rogear seated on his mare, followed by her three-months' colt. He carried from his neck the golden basin, and in his hand the diamond lance, which glittered like flame. Peronnik, terrified, hid himself behind a bush; the giant pa.s.sed close by him and went on his way. As soon as he was gone by, the idiot came out of his hiding-place, and looked down in the direction he had taken, but without being able to see which path he had followed.

Well, armed knights came on unceasingly in quest of the castle of Kerglas, and not one was ever seen to return. The giant, on the contrary, took his airing every day as usual. The idiot, who had at length grown bolder, no longer thought of concealing himself when he pa.s.sed, but looked after him as long as he was in sight with envious eyes; for the desire of possessing the golden basin and the diamond lance grew stronger every day within his heart. But these things, alas, were more easily desired than obtained.

One day, when Peronnik was all alone in the pasture-land as usual, he saw a man with a white beard pausing at the entrance of the forest-path. The idiot took him for some fresh adventurer, and inquired if he did not seek the road to Kerglas.

"I seek it not, since I already know it," replied the stranger.

"You have been there, and the magician has not killed you?" exclaimed the idiot.

"Because he has nothing to fear from me," replied the white-bearded old man. "I am called the sorcerer Bryak, and am Rogear's elder brother. When I wish to pay him a visit I come here, and as, in spite of all my power, I cannot cross the enchanted wood without losing my way, I call the black colt to carry me."

With these words, he traced three circles with his finger in the dust, repeated in a low tone such words as demons teach to sorcerers, and then cried,

"Colt, wild, unbroken, and with footstep free,-- Colt, I am here; come quick, I wait for thee."

The little horse speedily made his appearance. Bryak put him on a halter, shackled his feet, and then mounting on his back, allowed him to return into the forest.

Peronnik said nothing of this adventure to any one; but he now understood that the first step towards visiting Kerglas was to secure the colt that knew the way. Unfortunately he knew neither how to trace the three circles, nor to p.r.o.nounce the magic words necessary for the colt to hear the summons. Some other method, therefore, must be hit upon for making himself master of it, and, when once it was captured, of gathering the apple, plucking the laughing flower, escaping the black man's bowl, and of crossing the valley of delights.

Peronnik thought it all over for a long time, and at last he fancied himself able to succeed. Those who are strong go forth clad in their strength to meet danger, and too often perish in it; but the weak compa.s.s their ends sideways. Having no hope of braving the giant, the idiot resolved to try craft and cunning. As to difficulties, he suffered them not to scare him: he knew that medlars are hard as flint-stones when first gathered, and that a little straw and much patience softens them at length.

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Breton Legends Part 21 summary

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