The Violet Fairy Book (30 page)

'It is he! It is he!' and one of them stepping nearer
exclaimed, 'Ah, my old friend! it is a lucky chance that has
brought us here. My bones still ache from my fall down the steps
of the tower. I dare say you have not forgotten that night! Now
it is the turn of your bones. Hi! comrades, make haste! make
haste!'

Like a swarm of midges, a host of tiny headless creatures seemed
to spring straight out of the ground, and every one was armed
with a club. Although they were so small, yet there were such
numbers of them and they struck so hard that even a strong man
could do nothing against them. Hans thought his last hour was
come, when just as the fight was at the hottest another little
dwarf arrived on the scene.

'Hold, comrades!' he shouted, turning to the attacking party.
'This man once did me a service, and I am his debtor. When I was
in his power he granted me my life. And even if he did throw you
downstairs, well, a warm bath soon cured your bruises, so you
must just forgive him and go quietly home.'

The headless dwarfs listened to his words and disappeared as
suddenly as they had come. As soon as Hans recovered himself a
little he looked at his rescuer, and saw he was the dwarf he had
found seated in the church bell.

'Ah!' said the dwarf, seating himself quietly under the tree.
'You laughed at me when I told you that some day I might do you a
good turn. Now you see I was right, and perhaps you will learn
for the future not to despise any creature, however small.'

'I thank you from my heart,' answered Hans. 'My bones are still
sore from their blows, and had it not been for you I should
indeed have fared badly.'

'I have almost paid my debt,' went on the little man, 'but as you
have suffered already, I will do more, and give you a piece of
information. You need not remain any longer in the service of
that stingy minister, but when you get home to-morrow go at once
to the north corner of the church, and there you will find a
large stone built into the wall, but not cemented like the rest.
The day after to-morrow the moon is full, and at midnight you
must go to the spot and get the stone out of the wall with a
pickaxe. Under the stone lies a great treasure, which has been
hidden there in time of war. Besides church plate, you will find
bags of money, which have been lying in this place for over a
hundred years, and no one knows to whom it all belongs. A third
of this money you must give to the poor, but the rest you may
keep for yourself.' As he finished, the cocks in the village
crowed, and the little man was nowhere to be seen. Hans found
that his limbs no longer pained him, and lay for some time
thinking of the hidden treasure. Towards morning he fell asleep.

The sun was high in the heavens when his master returned from the
town.

'Hans,' said he, 'what a fool you were not to come with me
yesterday! I was well feasted and entertained, and I have money
in my pocket into the bargain,' he went on, rattling some coins
while he spoke, to make Hans understand how much he had lost.

'Ah, sir,' replied Hans calmly, 'in order to have gained so much
money you must have lain awake all night, but I have earned a
hundred times that amount while I was sleeping soundly.'

'How did you manage that?' asked the minister eagerly, but Hans
answered, 'It is only fools who boast of their farthings; wise
men take care to hide their crowns.'

They drove home, and Hans neglected none of his duties, but put
up the horses and gave them their food before going to the church
corner, where he found the loose stone, exactly in the place
described by the dwarf. Then he returned to his work.

The first night of the full moon, when the whole village was
asleep, he stole out, armed with a pickaxe, and with much
difficulty succeeded in dislodging the stone from its place.
Sure enough, there was the hole, and in the hole lay the
treasure, exactly as the little man had said.

The following Sunday he handed over the third part to the village
poor, and informed the minister that he wished to break his bond
of service. As, however, he did not claim any wages, the
minister made no objections, but allowed him to do as he wished.
So Hans went his way, bought himself a large house, and married a
young wife, and lived happily and prosperously to the end of his
days.

(Ehstnische Marchen.)

Once upon a time there lived a youth who was never happy unless
he was prying into something that other people knew nothing
about. After he had learned to understand the language of birds
and beasts, he discovered accidentally that a great deal took
place under cover of night which mortal eyes never saw. From
that moment he felt he could not rest till these hidden secrets
were laid bare to him, and he spent his whole time wandering from
one wizard to another, begging them to open his eyes, but found
none to help him. At length he reached an old magician called
Mana, whose learning was greater than that of the rest, and who
could tell him all he wanted to know. But when the old man had
listened attentively to him, he said, warningly:

'My son, do not follow after empty knowledge, which will not
bring you happiness, but rather evil. Much is hidden from the
eyes of men, because did they know everything their hearts would
no longer be at peace. Knowledge kills joy, therefore think well
what you are doing, or some day you will repent. But if you will
not take my advice, then truly I can show you the secrets of the
night. Only you will need more than a man's courage to bear the
sight.'

He stopped and looked at the young man, who nodded his head, and
then the wizard continued, 'To-morrow night you must go to the
place where, once in seven years, the serpent-king gives a great
feast to his whole court. In front of him stands a golden bowl
filled with goats' milk, and if you can manage to dip a piece of
bread in this milk, and eat it before you are obliged to fly, you
will understand all the secrets of the night that are hidden from
other men. It is lucky for you that the serpent-king's feast
happens to fall this year, otherwise you would have had long to
wait for it. But take care to be quick and bold, or it will be
the worse for you.'

The young man thanked the wizard for his counsel, and went his
way firmly resolved to carry out his purpose, even if he paid for
it with his life; and when night came he set out for a wide,
lonely moor, where the serpent-king held his feast. With
sharpened eyes, he looked eagerly all round him, but could see
nothing but a multitude of small hillocks, that lay motionless
under the moonlight. He crouched behind a bush for some time,
till he felt that midnight could not be far off, when suddenly
there arose in the middle of the moor a brilliant glow, as if a
star was shining over one of the hillocks. At the same moment
all the hillocks began to writhe and to crawl, and from each one
came hundreds of serpents and made straight for the glow, where
they knew they should find their king. When they reached the
hillock where he dwelt, which was higher and broader than the
rest, and had a bright light hanging over the top, they coiled
themselves up and waited. The whirr and confusion from all the
serpent-houses were so great that the youth did not dare to
advance one step, but remained where he was, watching intently
all that went on; but at last he began to take courage, and moved
on softly step by step.

What he saw was creepier than creepy, and surpassed all he had
ever dreamt of. Thousands of snakes, big and little and of every
colour, were gathered together in one great cluster round a huge
serpent, whose body was as thick as a beam, and which had on its
head a golden crown, from which the light sprang. Their hissings
and darting tongues so terrified the young man that his heart
sank, and he felt he should never have courage to push on to
certain death, when suddenly he caught sight of the golden bowl
in front of the serpent-king, and knew that if he lost this
chance it would never come back. So, with his hair standing on
end and his blood frozen in his veins, he crept forwards. Oh!
what a noise and a whirr rose afresh among the serpents.
Thousands of heads were reared, and tongues were stretched out to
sting the intruder to death, but happily for him their bodies
were so closely entwined one in the other that they could not
disentangle themselves quickly. Like lightning he seized a bit
of bread, dipped it in the bowl, and put it in his mouth, then
dashed away as if fire was pursuing him. On he flew as if a
whole army of foes were at his heels, and he seemed to hear the
noise of their approach growing nearer and nearer. At length his
breath failed him, and he threw himself almost senseless on the
turf. While he lay there dreadful dreams haunted him. He
thought that the serpent-king with the fiery crown had twined
himself round him, and was crushing out his life. With a loud
shriek he sprang up to do battle with his enemy, when he saw that
it was rays of the sun which had wakened him. He rubbed his eyes
and looked all round, but nothing could he see of the foes of the
past night, and the moor where he had run into such danger must
be at least a mile away. But it was no dream that he had run
hard and far, or that he had drunk of the magic goats' milk. And
when he felt his limbs, and found them whole, his joy was great
that he had come through such perils with a sound skin.

After the fatigues and terrors of the night, he lay still till
mid-day, but he made up his mind he would go that very evening
into the forest to try what the goats' milk could really do for
him, and if he would now be able to understand all that had been
a mystery to him. And once in the forest his doubts were set at
rest, for he saw what no mortal eyes had ever seen before.
Beneath the trees were golden pavilions, with flags of silver all
brightly lighted up. He was still wondering why the pavilions
were there, when a noise was heard among the trees, as if the
wind had suddenly got up, and on all sides beautiful maidens
stepped from the trees into the bright light of the moon. These
were the wood-nymphs, daughters of the earth-mother, who came
every night to hold their dances, in the forest. The young man,
watching from his hiding place, wished he had a hundred eyes in
his head, for two were not nearly enough for the sight before
him, the dances lasting till the first streaks of dawn. Then a
silvery veil seemed to be drawn over the ladies, and they
vanished from sight. But the young man remained where he was
till the sun was high in the heavens, and then went home.

He felt that day to be endless, and counted the minutes till
night should come, and he might return to the forest. But when
at last he got there he found neither pavilions nor nymphs, and
though he went back many nights after he never saw them again.
Still, he thought about them night and day, and ceased to care
about anything else in the world, and was sick to the end of his
life with longing for that beautiful vision. And that was the
way he learned that the wizard had spoken truly when he said,
'Blindness is man's highest good.'

(Ehstnische Marchen.)

Once upon a time what happened did happen: and if it had not
happened, you would never have heard this story.

Well, once upon a time there lived an emperor who had half a
world all to himself to rule over, and in this world dwelt an old
herd and his wife and their three daughters, Anna, Stana, and
Laptitza.

Anna, the eldest, was so beautiful that when she took the sheep
to pasture they forgot to eat as long as she was walking with
them. Stana, the second, was so beautiful that when she was
driving the flock the wolves protected the sheep. But Laptitza,
the youngest, with a skin as white as the foam on the milk, and
with hair as soft as the finest lamb's wool, was as beautiful as
both her sisters put together—as beautiful as she alone could
be.

One summer day, when the rays of the sun were pouring down on the
earth, the three sisters went to the wood on the outskirts of the
mountain to pick strawberries. As they were looking about to
find where the largest berries grew they heard the tramp of
horses approaching, so loud that you would have thought a whole
army was riding by. But it was only the emperor going to hunt
with his friends and attendants.

They were all fine handsome young men, who sat their horses as if
they were part of them, but the finest and handsomest of all was
the young emperor himself.

As they drew near the three sisters, and marked their beauty,
they checked their horses and rode slowly by.

'Listen, sisters!' said Anna, as they passed on. 'If one of
those young men should make me his wife, I would bake him a loaf
of bread which should keep him young and brave for ever.'

'And if I,' said Stana, 'should be the one chosen, I would weave
my husband a shirt which will keep him unscathed when he fights
with dragons; when he goes through water he will never even be
wet; or if through fire, it will not scorch him.'

'And I,' said Laptitza, 'will give the man who chooses me two
boys, twins, each with a golden star on his forehead, as bright
as those in the sky.'

And though they spoke low the young men heard, and turned their
horses' heads.

'I take you at your word, and mine shall you be, most lovely of
empresses!' cried the emperor, and swung Laptitza and her
strawberries on the horse before him.

'And I will have you,' 'And I you,' exclaimed two of his friends,
and they all rode back to the palace together.

The following morning the marriage ceremony took place, and for
three days and three nights there was nothing but feasting over
the whole kingdom. And when the rejoicings were over the news
was in everybody's mouth that Anna had sent for corn, and had
made the loaf of which she had spoken at the strawberry beds.
And then more days and nights passed, and this rumour was
succeeded by another one—that Stana had procured some flax, and
had dried it, and combed it, and spun it into linen, and sewed it
herself into the shirt of which she had spoken over the
strawberry beds.