Cossack Fairy Tales and Folk Tales Part 7

[22] _Lit._ Big billy-goats, the name given by the clean-shaved Ruthenians to their hairy neighbours the Russians.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE RULERS OF h.e.l.l LAID HANDS UPON THE OVERSEER STRAIGHTWAY]

THE CAT, THE c.o.c.k, AND THE FOX

There was once upon a time a cat and a c.o.c.k, who agreed to live together, so they built them a hut on an ash-heap, and the c.o.c.k kept house while the cat went foraging for sausages.

One day the fox came running up: "Open the door, little c.o.c.k!" cried she.--"p.u.s.s.y told me not to, little fox!" said the c.o.c.k.--"Open the door, little c.o.c.k!" repeated the fox.--"I tell you, p.u.s.s.y told me not to, little fox!"--At last, however, the c.o.c.k grew tired of always saying "No!" so he opened the door, and in the fox rushed, seized him in her jaws, and ran off with him. Then the c.o.c.k cried:

"_Help! p.u.s.s.y-p.u.s.s.y!

That foxy hussy Has got me tight With all her might.

Across her tail My legs do trail Along the bridge so stony!_"

The cat heard it, gave chase to the fox, rescued the c.o.c.k, brought him home, scolded him well, and said, "Now keep out of her jaws in the future, if you don't want to be killed altogether!"

Then the cat went out foraging for wheat, so that the c.o.c.k might have something to eat. He had scarcely gone when the sly she-fox again came creeping up. "Dear little c.o.c.k!" said she, "pray open the door!"--"Nay, little fox! p.u.s.s.y said I wasn't to." But the fox went on asking and asking till at last the c.o.c.k let him in. Then the fox rushed at him, seized him by the neck, and ran off with him. Then the c.o.c.k cried out:

"_Help! p.u.s.s.y-p.u.s.s.y!

That foxy hussy Has got me tight With all her might.

Across her tail My legs do trail Along the bridge so stony!_"

The cat heard it, and again he ran after the fox and rescued the c.o.c.k, and gave the fox a sound drubbing. Then he said to the c.o.c.k, "Now, mind you never let her come in again, or she'll eat you."

But the next time the cat went out, the she-fox came again, and said, "Dear little c.o.c.k, open the door!"--"No, little fox! p.u.s.s.y said I wasn't to." But the fox begged and begged so piteously that, at last, the c.o.c.k was quite touched, and opened the door. Then the fox caught him by the throat again, and ran away with him, and the c.o.c.k cried:

"_Help! p.u.s.s.y-p.u.s.s.y!

That foxy hussy Has got me tight With all her might.

Across her tail My legs do trail Along the bridge so stony!_"

The cat heard it, and gave chase again. He ran and ran, but this time he couldn't catch the fox up; so he returned home and wept bitterly, because he was now all alone. At last, however, he dried his tears and got him a little fiddle, a little fiddle-bow, and a big sack, and went to the fox's hole and began to play:

"_Fiddle-de-dee!

The foxy so wee Had daughters twice two, And a little son too, Called Phil.--Fiddle-dee!

Come, foxy, and see My sweet minstrelsy!_"

Then the fox's daughter said, "Mammy, I'll go out and see who it is that is playing so nicely!" So out she skipped, but no sooner did p.u.s.s.y see her than he caught hold of her and popped her into his sack.

Then he played again:

"_Fiddle-de-dee!

The foxy so wee Had daughters twice two, And a little son too, Called Phil.--Fiddle-dee!

Come, foxy, and see My sweet minstrelsy!_"

Then the second daughter skipped out, and p.u.s.s.y caught her by the forehead, and popped her into his sack, and went on playing and singing till he had got all four daughters into his sack, and the little son also.

Then the old fox was left all alone, and she waited and waited, but not one of them came back. At last she said to herself, "I'll go out and call them home, for the c.o.c.k is roasting, and the milk pottage is simmering, and 'tis high time we had something to eat." So out she popped, and the cat pounced upon her, and killed her too. Then he went and drank up all the soup, and gobbled up all the pottage, and then he saw the c.o.c.k lying on a plate. "Come, shake yourself, c.o.c.k!" said puss. So the c.o.c.k shook himself, and got up, and the cat took the c.o.c.k home, and the dead foxes too. And when they got home they skinned them to make nice beds to lie upon, and lived happily together in peace and plenty. And as they laughed over the joke as a good joke, we may laugh over it too!

THE SERPENT-TSAREVICH AND HIS TWO WIVES

There was once a Tsaritsa who had no child, and greatly desired one, so the soothsayers said to her, "Bid them catch thee a pike, bid them boil its head and nothing but its head, eat it, and thou shalt see what will happen." So she did so. She ate the pike's head and went about as usual for a whole year, and when the year was out she gave birth to a son who was a serpent.

And no sooner was he born than he looked about him, and said, "Mammy and daddy! Bid them make me a stone hut, and let there be a little bed there, and a little stove and a fire to warm me, and let me be married in a fortnight!"--So they did as he desired. They shut him up in a stone hut, with a little bed and a little stove and fire to warm him, and in a fortnight he grew quite big, indeed he grew too big for his little bed. "And now," said he, "I want to be married!" So they brought to him all the fair young damsels of the land that he might choose one to be his own true bride. Exceeding fair were all the damsels they brought him, and yet he would choose none of them. Now there was an old woman there, who had twelve daughters, and eleven of these daughters they brought to the Serpent-Tsarevich, but not the twelfth. "She is too young!" said they.--Then the youngest daughter said, "Ye fools, not to take me too! Why, if I were brought to the Serpent-Tsarevich, he would make me his bride at once."

Now this came to the Tsar's ears, and he commanded them to bring her to him straightway. And the Tsar said to her, "Wilt thou be my son's bride or not?"--And she said, "I will; but before I go to thy son, give me at once a score of chemises, and a score of linen kirtles, and a score of woollen kirtles, and twenty pairs of shoes--twenty of each, I say."--So the Tsar gave them to her, and she put on the twenty chemises, the twenty linen kirtles, the twenty woollen kirtles, and the twenty pairs of shoes, one after the other, and went to see the Serpent-Tsarevich. When she came to the threshold of his hut, she stopped and said, "Hail, O Serpent-Tsarevich!"--"Hail, maiden!" cried he. "Wilt thou be my bride?"--"I will!"--"Then take off one of thy skins!" cried he.--"Yes," she said, "but thou must do the same."--So he cast off one of his skins, and she cast off one of her twenty suits of clothes. Then he cried out again, "Cast off another of thy skins, maiden."--"Yes," she replied, "but thou must cast off one too!"--So he did so. Nineteen times did he cast off one of his serpent's skins, and nineteen times did she cast off one of her suits of clothes, till at last she had only her every-day suit left, and he had only his human skin left. Then he threw off his last skin also, and it flew about in the air like a gossamer, whereupon she seized hold of it and threw it into the fire that was burning on the hearth till it was all consumed, and he stood before her no longer a serpent, but a simple Tsarevich.

Then they married and lived happily together, but the husband never would go to visit his old father the Tsar, nor would he allow his bride to go near the palace.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NINETEEN TIMES DID SHE CAST OFF ONE OF HER SUITS OF CLOTHES]

The old Tsar sent for him again and again, but his son would never go.

At last the wife was ashamed, and said to her husband one day, "Dear heart! let me go to thy father! I will only go for my own pastime, lest he get angry. Why should I not go?" Then he let her go, and she went to the court of the old Tsar, and took her pastime there. She amused herself finely, and ate and drank her fill of all good things.

Now her husband had laid this command upon her, "Go and divert thyself if thou wilt, but if thou tell my father and my mother what has happened to me, and how I have lost my twenty serpent skins, thou shalt never see me more." For they did not know that he was now no longer a serpent, but a simple Tsarevich. She vowed she would never tell; but for all her promises, she nevertheless told them at last how her husband had lost his twenty serpent skins. Then she enjoyed herself to her heart's content, but when she returned home she found no trace of her husband--he had departed to another kingdom in the uttermost parts of the world.

Then the poor bride sat her down and wept and wept, and when she had no more tears to weep, she went forth into the wide world to seek her husband. She went on till she came to a lonely little house, and she went and begged a night's lodging from the old woman who dwelt there, who was the Mother of the Winds. But the Mother of the Winds would not let her in. "G.o.d preserve thee, child!" said she. "My son is already winging his way hither. In another moment thou wilt hear the rustling of his wings, in another moment he will slay thee, and scatter thy bones to the four winds." But the bride besought the old woman till she had her desire, and the old woman hid her behind a huge chest. A moment afterward the son of the Mother of the Winds came flying up, and he smelt out the bride, and said, "What's this, mother? There is an evil smell of Cossack bones about the house!"--"No, it is not that," said his mother, "but a young woman has taken shelter here, who says that she is going in search of her husband."--"Then, mother, give her the little silver apple, and let her go, for her husband is in another kingdom." So they sent her away with the little silver apple.

She went on and on till night descended upon her, and she came to the lonely abode of another old woman, and begged a night's lodging of her also. But the old woman would not let her in. "My son will be here presently," said she, "and he will slay thee."--"Nay, but, granny,"

said the bride, "I've already stayed the night with such as thou, for I have lodged at the house of the Mother of the Winds."--Then the old woman took her in, and hid her, for she was the Mother of the Moon.

And immediately afterward the Moon came flying up. "What is this, little mother?" cried he. "I smell an evil smell of Cossack bones!"--But she said to him, "Nay, my dear little son, but a young woman has come hither who is obliged to search for her husband because she told his father and mother the truth." Then the Moon said, "'Twould be as well to let her go on farther. Give her the little golden apple, and let her be off as quickly as possible, for her husband is about to marry another wife." So she pa.s.sed the night there, and in the morning they sent her away with the little golden apple.

She went on and on. Night again descended upon her, and she came to the house of the Mother of the Sun, and begged her for a night's lodging. But the old woman said to her, "I cannot let thee in. My son is flying about the world, but he will fly hither presently, and if he find thee here he will slay thee!"--Then the bride said, "Nay, but, granny dear, I have already lodged with the like of thee. I have lodged with the Mother of the Winds, and the Mother of the Moon, and they each gave me a little apple." Then the Mother of the Sun also let her in. Immediately afterward her son, the Sun, came flying up, and he said, "Why, what is this, little mother? I smell an evil smell of Cossack bones!"--But his mother answered, "A young woman came hither who begged for a night's lodging." She did not tell her son the whole truth, that the bride was in search of her husband, but he knew it already, and said, "Her husband is about to marry another wife. Let her go to the land where now he is, and give her the diamond apple, which is the best and most precious apple in the whole world, and tell her to hasten on to the house where her husband abides. They won't let her in there, but she must disguise herself as an old woman, and sit down outside in the courtyard, and spread out a cloth and lay upon it her little silver apple, and all the people will come flocking around to see the old woman who is selling apples of silver." So the bride did as the Sun bade her, and went to that distant empire, and the Empress of that empire, whom her husband had married, came to see what she was selling, and said to her, "What dost thou want for thy silver apple?" And she answered, "No money do I want for it. Oh, sovereign lady, all that I require in exchange therefor is that I may pa.s.s the night near my husband."--Then the Empress took the apple, and allowed her to come into the bedchamber of the Tsarevich to pa.s.s the night there; but first of all she gave the Tsarevich a sleeping draught so that he knew nothing, and could speak not a word to her, nor could he even recognize what manner of person his true wife was. Then only did the Empress let her come into the room where her husband lay. And she watched over him, she watched over him the live-long night, and with the dawn she departed.

The next morning he awoke out of his drugged sleep, and said to himself, "Why, what is this? It is just as if my first wife has been weeping over me here, and wetted me with her tears!" But he told n.o.body what he thought, nor did he say a word about it to his second wife. "Wait a bit!" thought he, "to-morrow night I'll not go to sleep.

I'll watch and watch till I watch the thing out."

The next day the faithful wife spread out her little cloth again, and laid upon it her golden apple. The Empress again came that way, went up to her, and said, "Sell me that apple of thine, and I'll give thee for it as many pence as thou canst hold in thy lap!"--But she replied, "Nay, my sovereign lady! money for it I will not take, but let me pa.s.s one more night in my own husband's room!"--And the Empress took the apple, and let her go there. But first the Empress caressed and kissed her husband into a good humour, and then she gave him another sleeping draught. And the faithful wife came again, and watched and wept over him and wetted him with her tears, and with the dawn she departed.

And now she had only one apple left, but that was the diamond apple, the most precious apple in the world. And she said to the Empress, "Let me watch by him for this apple but one night more, and I'll never ask again!" And she let her. Now this night also her husband was asleep. And his first wife came and immediately began to kiss him on the head, but he said nothing. Then she kissed him again, and at last he awoke and started up, and said, "Who's that?"--"It is I, thy first wife."--"How hast thou found thy way hither?"--"Oh, I have been here and there and everywhere. I have lodged with the Mother of the Winds, and the Mother of the Moon, and the Mother of the Sun, and they gave me three apples, and I gave these apples to thy Empress-wife, and she let me watch over thee, and this is the third night that I have watched by thy side."

Then he came to his right mind, and cried aloud that they should bring in lights, and he saw that his faithful wife was quite an old woman.

Then he bethought him, and said, "Was ever the like of this known? My first and faithful wife goes a-seeking her husband throughout the wide world, while my accursed second wife, Empress though she be, sells her husband for three apples!"

Then he bade them give his faithful wife rich garments as much as she would, and she stripped off her disguise, and washed her face and grew young again. But the faithless wife was tied to the tails of four wild horses, and they tore her to pieces in the endless steppe.

THE ORIGIN OF THE MOLE

Once upon a time a rich man and a poor man had a field in common, and they sowed it with the same seed at the same time. But G.o.d prospered the poor man's labour and made his seed to grow, but the rich man's seed did not grow. Then the rich man claimed that part of the field where the grain had sprung up, and said to the poor man, "Look now!

'tis my seed that has prospered, and not thine!" The poor man protested, but the rich man would not listen, but said to him, "If thou wilt not believe me, then, poor man, come into the field quite early to-morrow morning, before dawn, and G.o.d shall judge betwixt us."

Then the poor man went home. But the rich man dug a deep trench in the poor man's part of the field and placed his son in it, and said to him, "Look now, my son; when I come hither to-morrow morning and ask whose field this is, say that it is not the poor man's, but the rich man's."