Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 09 (10 page)

But the switch paid no attention, and dealt out its blows as
before, and MIGHT have been dealing them to this day, if the Holy
Man had not heard their cries and come to the rescue. 'Into the
bag, quick!' said he, and the switch obeyed.

'Now go and fetch me the cock and the basket,' and the woman went
without a word, and placed them on the table.

'You have all got what you deserved,' continued the Holy Man,
'and I have no pity for any of you. I shall take my treasures
home, and perhaps some day I may find a man who knows how to make
the best of the chances that are given to him. But that will
never be YOU,' he added, turning to Father Grumbler.

(From Contes Populaires.)

Down in the south, where the sun shines so hotly that everything
and everybody sleeps all day, and even the great forests seem
silent, except early in the morning and late in the evening—down
in this country there once lived a young man and a maiden. The
girl had been born in the town, and had scarcely ever left it;
but the young man was a native of another country, and had only
come to the city near the great river because he could find no
work to do where he was.

A few months after his arrival, when the days were cooler, and
the people did not sleep so much as usual, a great feast was held
a little way out of the town, and to this feast everyone flocked
from thirty miles and more. Some walked and some rode, some came
in beautiful golden coaches; but all had on splendid dresses of
red or blue, while wreaths of flowers rested on their hair.

It was the first time that the youth had been present on such an
occasion, and he stood silently aside watching the graceful
dances and the pretty games played by the young people. And as
he watched, he noticed one girl, dressed in white with scarlet
pomegranates in her hair, who seemed to him lovelier than all the
rest.

When the feast was over, and the young man returned home, his
manner was so strange that it drew the attention of all his
friends.

Through his work next day the youth continued to see the girl's
face, throwing the ball to her companions, or threading her way
between them as she danced. At night sleep fled from him, and
after tossing for hours on his bed, he would get up and plunge
into a deep pool that lay a little way in the forest.

This state of things went on for some weeks, then at last chance
favoured him. One evening, as he was passing near the house
where she lived, he saw her standing with her back to the wall,
trying to beat off with her fan the attacks of a savage dog that
was leaping at her throat. Alonzo, for such was his name, sprang
forward, and with one blow of his fist stretched the creature
dead upon the road. He then helped the frightened and half-
fainting girl into the large cool verandah where her parents were
sitting, and from that hour he was a welcome guest in the house,
and it was not long before he was the promised husband of Julia.

Every day, when his work was done, he used to go up to the house,
half hidden among flowering plants and brilliant creepers, where
humming-birds darted from bush to bush, and parrots of all
colours, red and green and grey, shrieked in chorus. There he
would find the maiden waiting for him, and they would spend an
hour or two under the stars, which looked so large and bright
that you felt as if you could almost touch them.

'What did you do last night after you went home?' suddenly asked
the girl one evening.

'Just the same as I always do,' answered he. 'It was too hot to
sleep, so it was no use going to bed, and I walked straight of to
the forest and bathed in one of those deep dark pools at the edge
of the river. I have been there constantly for several months,
but last night a strange thing happened. I was taking my last
plunge, when I heard—sometimes from one side, and sometimes from
another—the sound of a voice singing more sweetly than any
nightingale, though I could not catch any words. I left the
pool, and, dressing myself as fast as I could, I searched every
bush and tree round the water, as I fancied that perhaps it was
my friend who was playing a trick on me, but there was not a
creature to be seen; and when I reached home I found my friend
fast asleep.'

As Julia listened her face grew deadly white, and her whole body
shivered as if with cold. From her childhood she had heard
stories of the terrible beings that lived in the forests and were
hidden under the banks of the rivers, and could only be kept off
by powerful charms. Could the voice which had bewitched Alonzo
have come from one of these? Perhaps, who knows, it might be the
voice of the dreaded Yara herself, who sought young men on the
eve of their marriage as her prey.

For a moment the girl sat choked with fear, as these thoughts
rushed through her; then she said: 'Alonzo, will you promise
something?'

'What is that?' asked he.

'It is something that has to do with our future happiness.'

'Oh! it is serious, then? Well, of course I promise. Now tell
me!'

'I want you to promise,' she answered, lowering her voice to a
whisper, 'never to bathe in those pools again.'

'But why not, queen of my soul; have I not gone there always, and
nothing has harmed me, flower of my heart?'

'No; but perhaps something will. If you will not promise I shall
go mad with fright. Promise me.'

'Why, what is the matter? You look so pale! Tell me why you are
so frightened?'

'Did you not hear the song?' she asked, trembling.

'Suppose I did, how could that hurt me? It was the loveliest
song I ever heard!'

'Yes, and after the song will come the apparition; and after
that— after that—'

'I don't understand. Well—after that?'

'After that—death.'

Alonzo stared at her. Had she really gone mad? Such talk was
very unlike Julia; but before he could collect his senses the
girl spoke again:

'That is the reason why I implore you never to go there again; at
any rate till after we are married.'

'And what difference will our marriage make?'

'Oh, there will be no danger then; you can go to bathe as often
as you like!'

'But tell me why you are so afraid?'

'Because the voice you heard—I know you will laugh, but it is
quite true—it was the voice of the Yara.'

At these words Alonzo burst into a shout of laughter; but it
sounded so harsh and loud that Julia shrank away shuddering. It
seemed as if he could not stop himself, and the more he laughed
the paler the poor girl became, murmuring to herself as she
watched him:

'Oh, heaven! you have seen her! you have seen her! what shall I
do?'

Faint as was her whisper, it reached the ears of Alonzo, who,
though he still could not speak for laughing, shook his head.

'You may not know it, but it is true. Nobody who has not seen
the Yara laughs like that.' And Julia flung herself on the
ground weeping bitterly.

At this sight Alonzo became suddenly grave, and kneeling by her
side, gently raised her up.

'Do not cry so, my angel,' he said, 'I will promise anything you
please. Only let me see you smile again.'

With a great effort Julia checked her sobs, and rose to her feet.

'Thank you,' she answered. 'My heart grows lighter as you say
that! I know you will try to keep your word and to stay away from
the forest. But—the power of the Yara is very strong, and the
sound of her voice is apt to make men forget everything else in
the world. Oh, I have seen it, and more than one betrothed
maiden lives alone, broken-hearted. If ever you should return to
the pool where you first heard the voice, promise me that you
will at least take this with you.' And opening a curiously
carved box, she took out a sea-shell shot with many colours, and
sang a song softly into it. 'The moment you hear the Yara's
voice,' said she, 'put this to your ear, and you will hear my
song instead. Perhaps—I do not know for certain—but perhaps, I
may be stronger than the Yara.'

It was late that night when Alonzo returned home. The moon was
shining on the distant river, which looked cool and inviting, and
the trees of the forest seemed to stretch out their arms and
beckon him near. But the young man steadily turned his face in
the other direction, and went home to bed.

The struggle had been hard, but Alonzo had his reward next day in
the joy and relief with which Julia greeted him. He assured her
that having overcome the temptation once the danger was now over;
but she, knowing better than he did the magic of the Yara's face
and voice, did not fail to make him repeat his promise when he
went away.

For three nights Alonzo kept his word, not because he believed in
the Yara, for he thought that the tales about her were all
nonsense, but because he could not bear the tears with which he
knew that Julia would greet him, if he confessed that he had
returned to the forest. But, in spite of this, the song rang in
his ears, and daily grew louder.

On the fourth night the attraction of the forest grew so strong
that neither the thought of Julia nor the promises he had made
her could hold him back. At eleven o'clock he plunged into the
cool darkness of the trees, and took the path that led straight
to the river. Yet, for the first time, he found that Julia's
warnings, though he had laughed at her at the moment, had
remained in his memory, and he glanced at the bushes with a
certain sense of fear which was quite new to him.

When he reached the river he paused and looked round for a moment
to make sure that the strange feeling of some one watching him
was fancy, and he was really alone. But the moon shone brightly
on every tree, and nothing was to be seen but his own shadow;
nothing was to be heard but the sound of the rippling stream.

He threw off his clothes, and was just about to dive in headlong,
when something—he did not know what—suddenly caused him to look
round. At the same instant the moon passed from behind a cloud,
and its rays fell on a beautiful golden-haired woman standing
half hidden by the ferns.

With one bound he caught up his mantle, and rushed headlong down
the path he had come, fearing at each step to feel a hand laid on
his shoulder. It was not till he had left the last trees behind
him, and was standing in the open plain, that he dared to look
round, and then he thought a figure in white was still standing
there waving her arms to and fro. This was enough; he ran along
the road harder than ever, and never paused till he was save in
his own room.

With the earliest rays of dawn he went back to the forest to see
whether he could find any traces of the Yara, but though he
searched every clump of bushes, and looked up every tree,
everything was empty, and the only voices he heard were those of
parrots, which are so ugly that they only drive people away.

'I think I must be mad,' he said to himself, 'and have dreamt all
that folly'; and going back to the city he began his daily work.
But either that was harder than usual, or he must be ill, for he
could not fix his mind upon it, and everybody he came across
during the day inquired if anything had happened to give him that
white, frightened look.

'I must be feverish,' he said to himself; 'after all, it is
rather dangerous to take a cold bath when one is feeling so hot.'
Yet he knew, while he said it, that he was counting the hours for
night to come, that he might return to the forest.

In the evening he went as usual to the creeper-covered house.
But he had better have stayed away, as his face was so pale and
his manner so strange, that the poor girl saw that something
terrible had occurred. Alonzo, however, refused to answer any of
her questions, and all she could get was a promise to hear
everything the next day.

On pretence of a violent headache, he left Julia much earlier
than usual and hurried quickly home. Taking down a pistol, he
loaded it and put it in his belt, and a little before midnight he
stole out on the tips of his toes, so as to disturb nobody. Once
outside he hastened down the road which led to the forest.

He did not stop till he had reached the river pool, when holding
the pistol in his hand, he looked about him. At every little
noise— the falling of a leaf, the rustle of an animal in the
bushes, the cry of a night-bird—he sprang up and cocked his
pistol in the direction of the sound. But though the moon still
shone he saw nothing, and by and by a kind of dreamy state seemed
to steal over him as he leant against a tree.

How long he remained in this condition he could not have told,
but suddenly he awoke with a start, on hearing his name uttered
softly.

'Who is that?' he cried, standing upright instantly; but only an
echo answered him. Then his eyes grew fascinated with the dark
waters of the pool close to his feet, and he looked at it as if
he could never look away.

He gazed steadily into the depths for some minutes, when he
became aware that down in the darkness was a bright spark, which
got rapidly bigger and brighter. Again that feeling of awful
fear took possession of him, and he tried to turn his eyes from
the pool. But it was no use; something stronger than himself
compelled him to keep them there.

At last the waters parted softly, and floating on the surface he
saw the beautiful woman whom he had fled from only a few nights
before. He turned to run, but his feet were glued to the spot.

She smiled at him and held out her arms, but as she did so there
came over him the remembrance of Julia, as he had seen her a few
hours earlier, and her warnings and fears for the very danger in
which he now found himself.

Meanwhile the figure was always drawing nearer, nearer; but, with
a violent effort, Alonzo shook off his stupor, and taking aim at
her shoulder he pulled the trigger. The report awoke the
sleeping echoes, and was repeated all through the forest, but the
figure smiled still, and went on advancing. Again Alonzo fired,
and a second time the bullet whistled through the air, and the
figure advanced nearer. A moment more, and she would be at his
side.