Fairy Tales From all Nations Part 21

He instantly hastened back across the cloud bridge, and informed the fairy that her behest was obeyed. She heard with much surprise that the forest was cut down, and that the gla.s.s hatchet was still uninjured, and being unable to believe that he had performed all that una.s.sisted, she closely questioned him whether he had seen and spoken to the black maiden. But the count strongly denied that he had, and affirmed that he had not once looked up from his work. When she found that she could learn nothing further from him, she gave him some bread and water, and showed him a little dark closet where she bade him pa.s.s the night.

Almost before day-break the fairy again wakened him, a.s.signed him for that day's task to cleave, with the same gla.s.s hatchet, all the wood he had felled into billets, and then to arrange them in heaps; at the same time she again warned him, with redoubled threats, not to go near the black maiden, or dare converse with her.

Although his present work was in no respect easier than that of the preceding day, the youth set off in much better spirits, for he hoped for the a.s.sistance of the black maiden. He crossed the bridge quicker and more lightly than the day before, and had scarcely pa.s.sed it when he beheld her. She received him with a friendly salutation; and when she heard what the fairy had now required of him, she said, smiling, "Do not be uneasy," and handed to him a similar beverage to that of yesterday. The count again fell into a deep sleep. When he awoke his work was done; for all the trees of the forest were cut up into blocks and arranged in heaps.

He returned home quickly. When the fairy heard that he had performed this task also, she was still more surprised than before. She again inquired if he had seen or spoken to the black maiden; but the count had the prudence to preserve his secret, and she was again obliged to content herself with his denial.

On the third day she set him a new task, and this was the most difficult of all. She commanded him to build, on the further side of the lake, a magnificent castle, which should consist of nothing but gold, silver, and precious stones; and if he did not build the said castle in less than one hour's time, he might expect the most dreadful fate.

The count listened to her commands without alarm, such was the confidence he reposed in the black maiden. Cheerily he hastened across the bridge, and immediately recognised the spot where the palace was to be erected. Pickaxes, hammers, spades, and all manner of tools requisite for building, lay scattered around; but neither gold, nor silver, nor jewels could he spy. He had, however, scarcely begun to feel uneasy at this circ.u.mstance, when the black maiden beckoned to him from a rock at some distance, behind which she had concealed herself from her mother's searching looks. The youth hastened to her well pleased, and besought her to a.s.sist him in the execution of her mother's orders.

This time, however, the fairy had watched the count from a window of her castle, and descried him and her daughter just as they were about to conceal themselves behind the rock. She set up such a frightful scream, that the mountains and the lake re-echoed with it, and the terrified pair scarcely dared to look out from their hiding-place, whilst the infuriated fairy, with violent gestures and hasty strides, her hair and garments streaming in the wind, hastened across the bridge of clouds. The youth gave himself up for lost; each step of the fairy seemed to bring him nearer to destruction. The maiden, however, took courage, and bade him follow her as quickly as possible. Before they hastened from the spot she broke a stone from the rock, uttered a spell over it, and threw it towards the place from which her mother was advancing. At once a glittering palace arose before the eyes of the fairy, which dazzled her with its l.u.s.tre, and delayed her by the numerous windings of its avenue, through which she was obliged to thread her way.

Meanwhile the black maiden hurried the count along, in order to reach the river, the opposite bank of which alone could protect her for ever from the persecutions of the raging fairy. But before they had got half way, she was again so near them that her imprecations, and even the rustling of her garments reached their ears.

The terror of the youth was extreme; he dared not to look behind him, and had scarcely power left to advance. At every breath he fancied that he felt the hand of the terrible fairy on his neck. Then the maiden stopped, again uttered a spell, and was at once transformed into a pond, whilst the count swam upon its waters under the figure of a drake.

The fairy, incensed to the utmost at this new transformation, called down thunder and hail on the two fugitives; but the water refused to be disturbed, and whilst it remained calm no thunder-cloud would approach it. She now employed her power to cause the pond to vanish from the spot: she p.r.o.nounced a magic spell, and called up a hill of sand at her feet, which she intended should choke up the pond. But the sand-hill drove the water still further on, and seemed rather to augment than diminish it. When the fairy found this would not answer, and that her art failed so entirely, she had recourse to cunning. She threw a heap of golden nuts into the pond, hoping thereby to entice the drake, and catch him; but he snapped at the nuts with his bill, pushed them all back to the margin, dived here and there, and made game of the fairy in various ways.

Finding herself again cheated, and unwilling to see the reflection of her face in the pond, glowing, as it was, with rage and mortification, she turned back full of fury to devise some other stratagem by which to catch the fugitives.

She concealed herself behind the very same rock which had served them for a place of refuge, and watched for the moment when they should both resume their natural form in order to pursue their way.

It was not long before the maiden disenchanted herself, as well as the count, and as they could nowhere perceive their persecutor, they both hastened in good spirits to the river.

But scarcely had they proceeded a hundred paces, when the fairy burst out again after them with redoubled speed, shaking at them the dagger with which she meant to pierce them both. But she was doomed to see her intentions again frustrated and derided; for just as she thought she had reached the flying pair, a marble chapel rose before her, in the narrow portal of which stood a colossal monk, to prevent her entrance.

Foaming with pa.s.sion she struck at the monk's face with her dagger, but behold, it fell into shivers at her feet. She was beside herself with desperation, and raved at the chapel till the columns and dome resounded. Then she determined to annihilate the whole building and the fugitives with it at once. She stamped thrice, and the earth began to quake. A hollow murmur like that of a rising tempest was heard from below, and the monk and chapel began to totter.

As soon as she perceived this, she retired to some distance behind the edifice, that she might not be buried under its ruins. But she was again deceived in her expectation; for she had no sooner retired from the steps, than the monk and chapel disappeared, and an awful forest surrounded her with its black shade, whence issued a terrible sound of the mingled bellowing, roaring, howling and baying of wild bulls, bears, and wolves.

Her rage gave way to terror at this new apparition, for she dreaded every moment to be destroyed by these creatures, who all seemed to set her power at defiance. She therefore deemed it most prudent to work her way back through bush and briar towards the lighter side of the forest, in order from thence again to try her might and cunning against the hated pair.

Meantime, both had pursued their way to the river with their utmost speed. As this river resisted all kind of enchantment, consequently it was hostile to the black maiden whose hour of deliverance had not yet struck, and it might have proved fatal to her; she therefore did not let the moment for her complete disenchantment escape, but reminded the youth of his promise. She gave him a bow and arrows and a dagger, and instructed him in the use he was to make of these weapons.

She then vanished from his sight, and at the moment of her disappearance, a raging boar rushed upon him, menacing to rip him up.

But the youth took courage and shot an arrow at him with such good aim, that it pierced the animal's skull. It fell to the ground, and from its jaws sprang a hare, which fled as on the wings of the wind along the bank of the river. The youth again bent his bow, and stretched the hare on the earth, when a snow-white dove rose into the air, and circled round him with friendly cooings. As by the directions he had received from the black maiden he was equally forbidden to spare the dove, he sent another arrow from his bow, and brought it down. Approaching to examine it more closely, he found in its place an egg, which spontaneously rolled to his feet.

The final transformation now drew near. A powerful vulture sailed down upon him with wide stretched beak threatening him with destruction.

But the youth seized the egg, waited till the bird approached him, and cast it into its throat. The monster at once disappeared, and the loveliest maiden the count had ever beheld stood before his delighted eyes.

Whilst these events were occurring, the fairy had worked her way out of the forest, and now adopted her last means of reaching the fugitives in case they should not already have pa.s.sed the river. As soon as she emerged from the forest, she called up her dragon-drawn car and mounted high in the air. She soon descried the lovers, with interlaced arms, swimming easily as a couple of fish towards the opposite bank.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GLa.s.s HATCHET. P. 358.]

Swift as lightning she bore down with her dragon-car, and regardless of all peril, she endeavoured to reach them, even though they were in the river. But the hostile stream drew down the car into its depths, and dashed her about with its waves until she hung upon the bushes a prey to its finny inhabitants. Thus the lovers were finally rescued. They hastened to the paternal castle, where the count received them with transport. The following day their nuptials were celebrated with great magnificence, and all the inhabitants far and near rejoiced at the happy event.

THE GOLDEN DUCK.

[Bohemian.]

Deep in the bosom of a wood once stood a little cottage, inhabited by a poor widow. Her name was Jutta, and she had formerly lived in easy circ.u.mstances, but through various misfortunes, without any fault of her own, she had fallen into poverty.

By the labour of her hands she with difficulty contrived to support herself, her daughter Adelheid, and the two children of her departed brother, Henry and Emma. The children, who were good and pious, especially Henry and Emma, did their utmost to a.s.sist her by their diligence: the girls spun, and the boy helped the old woman to cultivate the garden, and tended the sheep, whose milk formed the princ.i.p.al part of their daily sustenance.

One evening they were all sitting together in the little cottage, whilst a tremendous storm raged without. The rain poured down in torrents, and flash after flash of lightning followed the thunder, which broke over the mountains, and seemed as if it would never cease.

The old woman had just sung to the children the song of the water-sprite who danced with a young maiden till he drew her down into the abyss, when suddenly they heard a tap at the door. The startled children huddled close together, but the mother took courage and opened it, when a soft female voice begged her to give shelter to a traveller who had been overtaken in the forest by the storm.

The stranger was an elderly woman of a n.o.ble and dignified appearance, but so kind and friendly in her manner that all were anxious to show her some attention. Whilst the widow was regretting that her poverty did not allow her to receive such a guest in a more worthy manner, Henry lighted the fire, and Emma was anxious to kill her favourite pigeons for her supper, but the lady would not permit this, and took only a little milk.

The following morning, when Jutta and the children awoke, they were not a little astonished at beholding, instead of the aged woman who had entered the hut the night before, a youthful one of superhuman beauty, arrayed in a magnificent dress which sparkled with diamonds.

"Know," said the stranger to the widow, "that you yesterday received into your dwelling no mortal, but a fairy; I always try those mortals whom I desire to benefit, and you have stood the trial. To little Emma I am especially beholden, because she would yesterday have killed for my supper what she most values, her pigeons. For this she shall be gifted. Whenever she weeps, either for joy or sorrow, pearls instead of tears shall drop from her eyes, and the hairs she combs from her head shall turn into threads of pure gold. But beware that no ray of sun ever shine upon her uncovered countenance, for then a great misfortune will befall her; from henceforth never let her go into the open air without being covered with a veil."

The beneficent fairy having thus spoken, vanished; but Jutta, who was desirous to prove the truth of her words, hastily spread a large cloth on the ground, placed the little maiden on it, and commenced combing her long fair locks. Immediately the hairs that fell on the cloth became threads of gold, and when the old woman told the child how rich and grand she might now become, and what pretty toys she might buy, she wept for joy, and the most beautiful pearls rolled from her eyes upon the linen cloth.

The next day the old woman betook herself to the nearest town, sold the pearls and the threads of gold, and bought a fine veil, without which Emma was never suffered to leave the house. She often combed the child's hair several times in the day, telling her all the time the prettiest tales, which drew from her eyes abundance of tears, either of pleasure or compa.s.sion, so that in a short time Jutta possessed a considerable treasure in gold and pearls.

At first she sold her treasures to Jews, and received but little for them, as they believed the goods were stolen. By and by, however, when she had become possessed of a small landed estate in the district, she traded with jewellers and goldsmiths, who paid her according to the value of her goods, and so at length she collected a very considerable treasure.

Meanwhile Adelheid and Emma grew into young women. But the increasing wealth of the old woman, whom her neighbours had formerly known to be in such straitened circ.u.mstances, and who knew not how she had acquired her riches, gave occasion for envious tongues to utter many an evil speech against her. Still further were their curiosity and ill-nature excited by the singular circ.u.mstance that Emma always went about veiled, and under these circ.u.mstances, what could be more natural than that the greater part of them were ready to swear without hesitation that old Jutta was a vile witch, and ought to be burned?

Now although these evil speeches were unable to do the widow any real injury, still she was not a little vexed and annoyed when they reached her ears, or when she perceived that she was looked upon with suspicious and wondering looks; and finding it impossible by obliging and friendly conduct, or even by conferring benefits, to win the hearts of her neighbours, or to stop their calumnies, she preferred to abandon altogether the place where she had been known in indifferent circ.u.mstances, and to go far away, where her riches would not excite suspicions against her. She therefore resolved to sell her estate, and to take up her residence in the city of Prague. In order, however, not to be too precipitate, she first sent thither her nephew, Henry, that she might become a little acquainted with their future residence, before removing from the former one.

So Henry went to the Bohemian capital, and, as he was a personable youth, had good manners, and was richly provided with money by his aunt, so that he could live in as good style as any of the n.o.bles of the land, he soon became on friendly terms with numerous counts and other ill.u.s.trious persons. Judging by his personal appearance and expenditure they took him for one of their own station; nay, one of them, a young count, became his confidential friend, and, as wine often unlocks the secrets of the heart, it happened one day that Henry let out the whole secret concerning his sister, quite forgetting at the moment his aunt's strict prohibition ever to reveal it.

When the count heard so much of the extraordinary understanding, good heart, sweetness, and beauty of the young maiden who was possessed of such wonderful gifts, his heart at once glowed with love for her, and he said with great warmth:--

"I myself possess a domain of such great value, that I am in no need of the riches of another; but I have ever desired to have a wife distinguished above all others for her beauty, virtue, and other rare gifts; therefore I offer my hand to your sister, and I swear to you that I will do all in my power that I may call so wonderful a maiden my own."

Henry perceived his indiscretion now that it was too late, and he could not withstand the earnest entreaties of his friend to obtain for him the hand of his sister. In order, indeed, to lose no time, the count immediately caused to be constructed an entirely closed and well-covered carriage in which to transport Emma to him, without her being exposed to a breath of air.

Surprising as was his proposal, it was so honourable a one, that, after a few minutes' reflection, Emma could not think of refusing such an ill.u.s.trious and amiable young man as Henry described the count to be. The brother, therefore, hastened back with the news of her consent, and the count immediately went to his residence, in order to make preparations for the reception of his bride, and for a magnificent bridal entertainment.

During the interval, Emma, accompanied by her mother and Adelheid, began her journey, and when they had proceeded about half-way, they came to a great forest. The heat was oppressive, and Emma happened to draw aside her veil, just as Jutta, in order to look after the attendants whom the count had sent to escort his bride on the journey, thoughtlessly opened the door of the carriage. No sooner did a sunbeam shine on the maiden, than she was suddenly transformed into a golden duck, flew out of the carriage, and vanished from the sight of her terrified aunt.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

As soon as the old woman had recovered from her first alarm, she was greatly troubled how to escape the wrath of the count. They had still to traverse a considerable portion of the forest. So she sent the servants who had not perceived the occurrence, under some pretext, to a village at some distance, and during their absence she covered her own daughter with Emma's veil. On their return they found the old woman in the greatest distress; she wrung her hands, and related with well simulated despair, that having gone with her daughter only a few steps from the carriage, armed men had surprised them, and carried off her Adelheid.

The count's servants, deceived by the despairing words and gestures of the old woman, searched the forest, in hopes of tracing the robbers, but as was to be expected, without success. Meanwhile Jutta instructed her daughter in the part she was to play, in order that she in Emma's place might become the count's wife. And as she feared she might not be able to conceal the cheat from Henry, she desired the servants not to go through Prague, but to take the direct road to the count's castle.

When they arrived, Jutta descended alone from the carriage, carefully closed it again, and besought the count, that until her niece had entirely recovered from the fatigue of the journey, he would permit them both to occupy a chamber from which all daylight could be excluded, and she forbade at first any visit from the bridegroom.

Impatient as the latter was to see his bride, he yet submitted to this delay which the old woman so earnestly requested of him. The most splendid apartments were now thrown open to the mother and daughter, and the most inner chamber of the suite was so hung with curtains that no daylight could penetrate. In this room dwelt Jutta with her daughter, and even Henry, who came to visit his supposed sister, was, under pretext of her being indisposed, not allowed to enter. As his aunt, however, provided him with plenty of money, and the merry life in Prague pleased him better than the retirement of the country, he soon returned thither.