Scottish Folk and Fairy Tales from Burns to Buchan (Penguin Classics) (6 page)

Not a word was spoken till they approached the dreaded glen, then the old woman felt her courage giving way. ‘Do ye think that there will be any chance of meeting the Brownie?’ she asked timidly. ‘I would fain not run the risk, for folk say that he is an ill-omened creature.’

Her companion gave a curious laugh. ‘Keep up your heart, and dinna talk havers,’ he said, ‘for I promise ye ye’ll see naught uglier this night than the man whom ye ride behind.’

‘Oh, then, I’m fine and safe,’ replied the old woman, with a sigh of relief; ‘for although I havena’ seen your face, I warrant that ye are a true man, for the care you have taken of a poor old woman.’

She relapsed into silence again till the glen was passed and the good horse had turned into the farmyard. Then the horseman slid to the ground, and, turning round, lifted her carefully down

in his long, strong arms. As he did so the cloak slipped off him, revealing his short, broad body and his misshapen limbs.

‘In a’ the world, what kind o’ man are ye?’ she asked, peering into his face in the grey morning light, which was just dawning. ‘What makes your eyes so big? And what have ye done to your feet? They are more like a frog’s webs than anything else.’

The queer little man laughed again. ‘I’ve wandered many a mile in my time without a horse to help me, and I’ve heard it said that ower-much walking makes the feet unshapely,’ he replied. ‘But waste no time in talking, good Dame. Go your way into the house; and, hark’ee, if anyone asks you who brought you hither so quickly, tell them that there was a lack of men, so you just had to be content to ride behind the Brownie o’ Ferne-Den.’

There was once a King whose wife died, leaving him with an only daughter, whom he dearly loved. The little Princess’s name was Velvet-Cheek, and she was so good, and bonnie, and kind-hearted that all her father’s subjects loved her. But as the King was generally engaged in transacting the business of the State, the poor little maiden had rather a lonely life, and often wished that she had a sister with whom she could play, and who would be a companion to her.

The King, hearing this, made up his mind to marry a middle-aged countess, whom he had met at a neighbouring court, who had one daughter, named Katherine, who was just a little younger than the Princess Velvet-Cheek, and who, he thought, would make a nice playfellow for her.

He did so, and in one way the arrangement turned out very well, for the two girls loved one another dearly, and had everything in common, just as if they had really been sisters.

But in another way it turned out very badly, for the new Queen was a cruel and ambitious woman, and she wanted her own daughter to do as she had done, and make a grand marriage, and perhaps even become a queen. And when she saw that Princess Velvet-Cheek was growing into a very beautiful young woman – more beautiful by far than her own daughter – she began to hate her, and to wish that in some way she would lose her good looks.

‘For,’ thought she, ‘what suitor will heed my daughter as long as her stepsister is by her side?’

Now, among the servants and retainers at her husband’s castle there was an old henwife, who, men said, was in league with the
evil spirits of the air, and who was skilled in the knowledge of charms, and philtres, and love potions.

‘Perhaps she could help me to do what I seek to do,’ said the wicked Queen; and one night, when it was growing dusk, she wrapped a cloak around her, and set out to this old henwife’s cottage.

‘Send the lassie to me tomorrow morning before she has broken her fast,’ replied the old dame when she heard what her visitor had to say. ‘I will find out a way to mar her beauty.’ And the wicked Queen went home content.

Next morning she went to the Princess’s room while she was dressing, and told her to go out before breakfast and get the eggs that the henwife had gathered. ‘And see,’ added she, ‘that you don’t eat anything before you go, for there is nothing that makes the roses bloom on a young maiden’s cheeks like going out fasting in the fresh morning air.’

Princess Velvet-Cheek promised to do as she was bid, and go and fetch the eggs; but as she was not fond of going out of doors before she had had something to eat, and as, moreover, she suspected that her stepmother had some hidden reason for giving her such an unusual order, and she did not trust her stepmother’s hidden reasons, she slipped into the pantry as she went downstairs and helped herself to a large slice of cake. Then, after she had eaten it, she went straight to the henwife’s cottage and asked for the eggs.

‘Lift the lid of that pot there, your Highness, and you will see them,’ said the old woman, pointing to the big pot standing in the corner in which she boiled her hens’ meat.

The Princess did so, and found a heap of eggs lying inside, which she lifted into her basket, while the old woman watched her with a curious smile.

‘Go home to your lady mother, hinny,’ she said at last, ‘and tell her from me to keep the press door better snibbit.’

The Princess went home, and gave this extraordinary message to her stepmother, wondering to herself meanwhile what it meant.

press
, pantry, walk-in cupboard.    
snibbit
, bolted.

But if she did not understand the henwife’s words, the Queen understood them only too well. For from them she gathered that the Princess had in some way prevented the old witch’s spell doing what she intended it to do.

So next morning, when she sent her stepdaughter once more on the same errand, she accompanied her to the door of the castle herself, so that the poor girl had no chance of paying a visit to the pantry. But as she went along the road that led to the cottage, she felt so hungry that, when she passed a party of country-folk picking peas by the roadside, she asked them to give her a handful.

They did so, and she ate the peas; and so it came about that the same thing happened that had happened yesterday.

The henwife sent her to look for the eggs; but she could work no spell upon her, because she had broken her fast. So the old woman bade her go home again and give the same message to the Queen.

The Queen was very angry when she heard it, for she felt that she was being outwitted by this slip of a girl, and she determined that, although she was not fond of getting up early, she would accompany her next day herself, and make sure that she had nothing to eat as she went.

So next morning she walked with the Princess to the henwife’s cottage, and, as had happened twice before, the old woman sent the royal maiden to lift the lid off the pot in the corner in order to get the eggs.

And the moment that the Princess did so off jumped her own pretty head, and on jumped that of a sheep.

Then the wicked Queen thanked the cruel old witch for the service that she had rendered to her, and went home quite delighted with the success of her scheme; while the poor Princess picked up her own head and put it into her basket along with the eggs, and went home crying, keeping behind the hedge all the way, for she felt so ashamed of her sheep’s head that she was afraid that anyone saw her.

Now, as I told you, the Princess’s stepsister Katherine loved her dearly, and when she saw what a cruel deed had been wrought on her she was so angry that she declared that she would not
remain another hour in the castle. ‘For,’ said she, ‘if my mother can order one such deed to be done, who can hinder her ordering another? I think it’s better for us both to be where she cannot reach us.’

So she wrapped a fine silk shawl round her poor stepsister’s head, so that none could tell what it was like, and, putting the real head in the basket, she took her by the hand, and the two set out to seek their fortunes.

They walked and they walked, till they reached a splendid palace, and when they came to it Katherine made as though she would go boldly up and knock at the door.

‘I may perchance find work here,’ she explained, ‘and earn enough money to keep us both in comfort.’

But the poor Princess would fain have pulled her back. ‘They will have nothing to do with you,’ she whispered, ‘when they see that you have a sister with a sheep’s head.’

‘And who is to know that you have a sheep’s head?’ asked Katherine. ‘Just hold your tongue, and keep the shawl well around your face, and leave the rest to me.’

So up she went and knocked at the kitchen door, and when the housekeeper came to answer it she asked her if there was any work that she could give her to do. ‘For,’ said she, ‘I have a sick sister, who is sore troubled with the migraine in her head, and I would fain find a quiet lodging for her where she could rest for the night.’

‘Do you know how to nurse a sickness?’ asked the housekeeper, who was greatly struck by Katherine’s soft voice and gentle ways.

‘Ay, I do,’ replied Katherine, ‘for when one’s sister is troubled with the migraine, one has to learn to look after her, and to go about softly and not to make a noise.’

Now it chanced that the King’s eldest son, the Crown Prince, was lying ill in the palace with a strange disease, which seemed to have touched his brain. For he was so restless, especially at nights, that someone had always to be with him to watch that he did himself no harm; and this state of things had gone on so long that everyone was quite worn out.

And the old housekeeper thought that it would be a good
chance to get a quiet night’s sleep if this capable-looking stranger could be trusted to sit up with the Prince.

So she left her at the door, and went and consulted the King; and the King came out and spoke to Katherine, and he, too, was so pleased with her voice and her appearance that he gave orders that a room should be set apart in the castle for her sick sister and herself, and he promised that, if she would sit up that night with the Prince, and see that he came to no harm, she would have, as her reward, a bag of silver pennies in the morning.

Katherine agreed to the bargain readily.
For
, thought she,
’twill
always be a night’s lodging for the Princess; and, forbye that, a bag of silver pennies is not to be got every day.

So the Princess went to bed in the comfortable chamber that was set apart for her, and Katherine went to watch by the sick Prince.

He was a handsome, comely young man, who seemed to be in some sort of fever, for his brain was not quite clear, and he tossed and tumbled from side to side, gazing anxiously in front of him, and stretching out his hands as if he were in search of something.

And at twelve o’clock at night, just when Katherine thought that he was going to fall into a refreshing sleep, what was her horror to see him rise from his bed, dress himself hastily, open the door, and slip downstairs, as if he were going to look for somebody.

‘There’s something strange in this,’ said the girl to herself. ‘I’d better follow him and see what happens.’

So she stole out of the room after the Prince and followed him safely downstairs; and what was her astonishment to find that apparently he was going some distance, for he put on his hat and riding-coat, and, unlocking the door, crossed the courtyard to the stable, and began to saddle his horse.

When he had done so, he led it out, and mounted, and, whistling softly to a hound which lay asleep in a corner, he prepared to ride away.

‘I must go too, and see the end of this,’ said Katherine bravely; ‘I’m sure he’s bewitched. These are not the actions of a sick man.’

So, just as the horse was about to start, she jumped lightly on
its back, and settled herself comfortably behind its rider, all unnoticed by him.

Then this strange pair rode away through the woods, and, as they went, Katherine pulled the hazel-nuts that nodded in great clusters in her face. ‘For,’ said she to herself, ‘dear only knows where next I may get anything to eat.’

On and on they rode, till they left the greenwood far behind them and came out on an open moor. Soon they reached a hillock, and here the Prince drew rein, and, stooping down, cried in a strange, uncanny whisper, ‘Open, open, green hill, and let the Prince, and his horse, and his hound enter.’

‘And,’ whispered Katherine quickly, ‘let his lady enter behind him.’

Instantly, to her great astonishment, the top of the
knowe
seemed to tip up, leaving an aperture large enough for the little company to enter; then it closed gently behind them again.

They found themselves in a magnificent hall, brilliantly lighted by hundreds of candles stuck in sconces around the walls. In the centre of this apartment was a group of the most beautiful maidens that Katherine had ever seen, all dressed in shimmering ball-gowns, with wreaths of roses and violets in their hair. And there were sprightly youths also, who had been treading a measure with these beauteous damsels to the strains of fairy music.

When the maidens saw the Prince, they ran to him, and led him away to join their revels. And at the touch of their hands all his languor seemed to disappear, and he became the brightest of all the throng, and laughed, and danced, and sang as if he had never known what it was to be ill.

As no one took any notice of Katherine, she sat down quietly on a bit of rock to watch what would befall. And as she watched, she became aware of a little wee bairnie, playing with a tiny wand, quite close to her feet.

He was a bonnie bit bairn, and she was just thinking of trying to make friends with him when one of the beautiful maidens passed, and, looking at the wand, said to her partner, in a
meaning tone, ‘Three strokes of that wand would give Katherine’s sister back her pretty face.’

Here was news indeed! Katherine’s breath came thick and fast; and with trembling fingers she drew some of the nuts out of her pocket, and began rolling them carelessly towards the child. Apparently he did not get nuts very often, for he dropped his little wand at once, and stretched out his tiny hands to pick them up.

This was just what she wanted; and she slipped down from her seat to the ground, and drew a little nearer to him. Then she threw one or two more nuts in his way, and, when he was picking these up, she managed to lift the wand unobserved, and to hide it under her apron. After this, she crept cautiously back to her seat again; and not a moment too soon, for just then a cock crew, and at the sound the whole troop of dancers vanished – all but the Prince, who ran to mount his horse, and was in such a hurry to be gone that Katherine had much ado to get up behind him before the hillock opened, and he rode swiftly into the outer world once more.