Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 08 (19 page)

(From Ungarischen Volksmurchen.)

Once upon a time there lived a stone-cutter, who went every day to
a great rock in the side of a big mountain and cut out slabs for
gravestones or for houses. He understood very well the kinds of
stones wanted for the different purposes, and as he was a careful
workman he had plenty of customers. For a long time he was quite
happy and contented, and asked for nothing better than what he
had.

Now in the mountain dwelt a spirit which now and then appeared to
men, and helped them in many ways to become rich and
prosperous. The stone-cutter, however, had never seen this spirit,
and only shook his head, with an unbelieving air, when anyone
spoke of it. But a time was coming when he learned to change his
opinion.

One day the stone-cutter carried a gravestone to the house of a rich
man, and saw there all sorts of beautiful things, of which he had
never even dreamed. Suddenly his daily work seemed to grow
harder and heavier, and he said to himself: 'Oh, if only I were a rich
man, and could sleep in a bed with silken curtains and golden
tassels, how happy I should be!'

And a voice answered him: 'Your wish is heard; a rich man you
shall be!'

At the sound of the voice the stone-cutter looked round, but could
see nobody. He thought it was all his fancy, and picked up his tools
and went home, for he did not feel inclined to do any more work
that day. But when he reached the little house where he lived, he
stood still with amazement, for instead of his wooden hut was a
stately palace filled with splendid furniture, and most splendid of all
was the bed, in every respect like the one he had envied. He was
nearly beside himself with joy, and in his new life the old one was
soon forgotten.

It was now the beginning of summer, and each day the sun blazed
more fiercely. One morning the heat was so great that the
stone-cutter could scarcely breathe, and he determined he would
stay at home till the evening. He was rather dull, for he had never
learned how to amuse himself, and was peeping through the closed
blinds to see what was going on in the street, when a little carriage
passed by, drawn by servants dressed in blue and silver. In the
carriage sat a prince, and over his head a golden umbrella was held,
to protect him from the sun's rays.

'Oh, if I were only a prince!' said the stone-cutter to himself, as the
carriage vanished round the corner. 'Oh, if I were only a prince,
and could go in such a carriage and have a golden umbrella held
over me, how happy I should be!'

And the voice of the mountain spirit answered: 'Your wish is heard;
a prince you shall be.'

And a prince he was. Before his carriage rode one company of men
and another behind it; servants dressed in scarlet and gold bore him
along, the coveted umbrella was held over his head, everything
heart could desire was his. But yet it was not enough. He looked
round still for something to wish for, and when he saw that in spite
of the water he poured on his grass the rays of the sun scorched it,
and that in spite of the umbrella held over his head each day his face
grew browner and browner, he cried in his anger: 'The sun is
mightier than I; oh, if I were only the sun!'

And the mountain spirit answered: 'Your wish is heard; the sun you
shall be.'

And the sun he was, and felt himself proud in his power. He shot
his beams above and below, on earth and in heaven; he burnt up the
grass in the fields and scorched the faces of princes as well as of
poorer folk. But in a short time he began to grow tired of his
might, for there seemed nothing left for him to do. Discontent once
more filled his soul, and when a cloud covered his face, and hid the
earth from him, he cried in his anger: 'Does the cloud hold captive
my rays, and is it mightier than I? Oh, that I were a cloud, and
mightier than any!'

And the mountain spirit answered: 'Your wish is heard; a cloud you
shall be!'

And a cloud he was, and lay between the sun and the earth. He
caught the sun's beams and held them, and to his joy the earth grew
green again and flowers blossomed. But that was not enough for
him, and for days and weeks he poured forth rain till the rivers
overflowed their banks, and the crops of rice stood in water.
Towns and villages were destroyed by the power of the rain, only
the great rock on the mountain side remained unmoved. The cloud
was amazed at the sight, and cried in wonder: 'Is the rock, then,
mightier than I? Oh, if I were only the rock!'

And the mountain spirit answered: 'Your wish is heard; the rock
you shall be!

And the rock he was, and gloried in his power. Proudly he stood,
and neither the heat of the sun nor the force of the rain could move
him. 'This is better than all!' he said to himself. But one day he
heard a strange noise at his feet, and when he looked down to see
what it could be, he saw a stone-cutter driving tools into his
surface. Even while he looked a trembling feeling ran all through
him, and a great block broke off and fell upon the ground. Then he
cried in his wrath: 'Is a mere child of earth mightier than a rock?
Oh, if I were only a man!'

And the mountain spirit answered: 'Your wish is heard. A man
once more you shall be!'

And a man he was, and in the sweat of his brow he toiled again at
his trade of stone-cutting. His bed was hard and his food scanty,
but he had learned to be satisfied with it, and did not long to be
something or somebody else. And as he never asked for things he
had not got, or desired to be greater and mightier than other
people, he was happy at last, and heard the voice of the mountain
spirit no longer.

(From Japanische Mahrchen.)

Once upon a time there lived a great king who had a wife and one
son whom he loved very much. The boy was still young when, one
day, the king said to his wife: 'I feel that the hour of my death
draws near, and I want you to promise that you will never take
another husband but will give up your life to the care of our son.'

The queen burst into tears at these words, and sobbed out that she
would never, never marry again, and that her son's welfare should
be her first thought as long as she lived. Her promise comforted
the troubled heart of the king, and a few days after he died, at peace
with himself and with the world.

But no sooner was the breath out of his body, than the queen said
to herself, 'To promise is one thing, and to keep is quite another.'
And hardly was the last spadeful of earth flung over the coffin than
she married a noble from a neighbouring country, and got him made
king instead of the young prince. Her new husband was a cruel,
wicked man, who treated his stepson very badly, and gave him
scarcely anything to eat, and only rags to wear; and he would
certainly have killed the boy but for fear of the people.

Now by the palace grounds there ran a brook, but instead of being a
water-brook it was a milk-brook, and both rich and poor flocked to
it daily and drew as much milk as they chose. The first thing the
new king did when he was seated on the throne, was to forbid
anyone to go near the brook, on pain of being seized by the
watchmen. And this was purely spite, for there was plenty of milk
for everybody.

For some days no one dared venture near the banks of the stream,
but at length some of the watchmen noticed that early in the
mornings, just at dawn, a man with a gold beard came down to the
brook with a pail, which he filled up to the brim with milk, and then
vanished like smoke before they could get near enough to see who
he was. So they went and told the king what they had seen.

At first the king would not believe their story, but as they persisted
it was quite true, he said that he would go and watch the stream
that night himself. With the earliest streaks of dawn the
gold-bearded man appeared, and filled his pail as before. Then in
an instant he had vanished, as if the earth had swallowed him up.

The king stood staring with eyes and mouth open at the place
where the man had disappeared. He had never seen him before,
that was certain; but what mattered much more was how to catch
him, and what should be done with him when he was caught? He
would have a cage built as a prison for him, and everyone would
talk of it, for in other countries thieves were put in prison, and it
was long indeed since any king had used a cage. It was all very
well to plan, and even to station a watchman behind every bush, but
it was of no use, for the man was never caught. They would creep
up to him softly on the grass, as he was stooping to fill his pail, and
just as they stretched out their hands to seize him, he vanished
before their eyes. Time after time this happened, till the king grew
mad with rage, and offered a large reward to anyone who could tell
him how to capture his enemy.

The first person that came with a scheme was an old soldier who
promised the king that if he would only put some bread and bacon
and a flask of wine on the bank of the stream, the gold-bearded man
would be sure to eat and drink, and they could shake some powder
into the wine, which would send him to sleep at once. After that
there was nothing to do but to shut him in the cage.

This idea pleased the king, and he ordered bread and bacon and a
flask of drugged wine to be placed on the bank of the stream, and
the watchers to be redoubled. Then, full of hope, he awaited the
result.

Everything turned out just as the soldier had said. Early next
morning the gold-bearded man came down to the brook, ate, drank,
and fell sound asleep, so that the watchers easily bound him, and
carried him off to the palace. In a moment the king had him fast in
the golden cage, and showed him, with ferocious joy, to the
strangers who were visiting his court. The poor captive, when he
awoke from his drunken sleep, tried to talk to them, but no one
would listen to him, so he shut himself up altogether, and the
people who came to stare took him for a dumb man of the woods.
He wept and moaned to himself all day, and would hardly touch
food, though, in dread that he should die and escape his tormentors,
the king ordered his head cook to send him dishes from the royal
table.

The gold-bearded man had been in captivity about a month, when
the king was forced to make war upon a neighbouring country, and
left the palace, to take command of his army. But before he went
he called his stepson to him and said:

'Listen, boy, to what I tell you. While I am away I trust the care of
my prisoner to you. See that he has plenty to eat and drink, but he
careful that he does not escape, or even walk about the room. If I
return and find him gone, you will pay for it by a terrible death.'

The young prince was thankful that his stepfather was going to the
war, and secretly hoped he might never come back. Directly he had
ridden off the boy went to the room where the cage was kept, and
never left it night and day. He even played his games beside it.

One day he was shooting at a mark with a silver bow; one of his
arrows fell into the golden cage.

'Please give me my arrow,' said the prince, running up to him; but
the gold-bearded man answered:

'No, I shall not give it to you unless you let me out of my cage.'

'I may not let you out,' replied the boy, 'for if I do my stepfather
says that I shall have to die a horrible death when he returns from
the war. My arrow can be of no use to you, so give it to me.'

The man handed the arrow through the bars, but when he had done
so he begged harder than ever that the prince would open the door
and set him free. Indeed, he prayed so earnestly that the prince's
heart was touched, for he was a tender-hearted boy who pitied the
sorrows of other people. So he shot back the bolt, and the
gold-bearded man stepped out into the world.

'I will repay you a thousand fold for that good deed.' said the man,
and then he vanished. The prince began to think what he should
say to the king when he came back; then he wondered whether it
would be wise to wait for his stepfather's return and run the risk of
the dreadful death which had been promised him. 'No,' he said to
himself, 'I am afraid to stay. Perhaps the world will be kinder to me
than he has been.'

Unseen he stole out when twilight fell, and for many days he
wandered over mountains and through forests and valleys without
knowing where he was going or what he should do. He had only
the berries for food, when, one morning, he saw a wood-pigeon
sitting on a bough. In an instant he had fitted an arrow to his bow,
and was taking aim at the bird, thinking what a good meal he would
make off him, when his weapon fell to the ground at the sound of
the pigeon's voice:

'Do not shoot, I implore you, noble prince! I have two little sons at
home, and they will die of hunger if I am not there to bring them
food.'

And the young prince had pity, and unstrung his bow.

'Oh, prince, I will repay your deed of mercy, said the grateful
wood-pigeon.

'Poor thing! how can you repay me?' asked the prince.

'You have forgotten,' answered the wood-pigeon, 'the proverb that
runs, "mountain and mountain can never meet, but one living
creature can always come across another."' The boy laughed at this
speech and went his way.

By-and-by he reached the edge of a lake, and flying towards some
rushes which grew near the shore he beheld a wild duck. Now, in
the days that the king, his father, was alive, and he had everything
to eat he could possibly wish for, the prince always had wild duck
for his birthday dinner, so he quickly fitted an arrow to his bow and
took a careful aim.

'Do not shoot, I pray you, noble prince!' cried the wild duck; 'I have
two little sons at home; they will die of hunger if I am not there to
bring them food.'