The Juniper Tree and Other Tales (3 page)

“Yes, if you have any money.”

“Oh, I have enough money,” said the boy, “but your balls aren’t really round.” So he took the skulls, put them on the lathe and turned them until they were round as balls. “There, now they’ll roll better,” he said, “so off we go!”

He played skittles with the men, and lost some of his money to them, but when midnight struck they and their skittles disappeared. Then he lay down and went to sleep.

Next morning the King came to see how he was. “Well, what happened this time?” he asked.

“I played a game of skittles,” said the boy, “and I lost a little money.”

“Didn’t you shudder with fear, then?”

“No,” said the boy, “it was good fun. Oh, if only I knew what it was like to shudder with fear!”

On the third night he sat down on his bench once more and said very sadly, “Oh, if only I knew what fear is!” As time went on, six tall men came in carrying a coffin on a stretcher. “My word,” said the boy, “that must be my cousin who died only a couple of days ago.” And he beckoned to the coffin and said, “Come over here, cousin, come over here!”

The men put the coffin down, and he went over and lifted the lid. There was a dead man lying inside it. The boy felt the corpse’s face, and it was cold as ice. “Wait a minute,” he said. “I’ll warm you up a bit.” And he went over to the fire, warmed his own hand and laid it on the
dead man’s face, but the corpse was still cold. So he took the body out of the coffin, held it on his lap and rubbed its arms to get the blood circulating again. When that didn’t help either, it occurred to him that two people can warm each other up by lying in bed together. So he put the corpse in the bed, covered it up and lay down beside it. After a while the dead man warmed up and began to move.

“There now, cousin,” said the boy, “didn’t I get you nice and warm?”

But the dead man stood up and said, “Now I’m going to strangle you!”

“Is that all the thanks I get?” said the boy. “Right, back you go into your coffin.” And he picked the dead man up, threw him into the coffin and closed the lid. The six men came back and carried it away again.

“I just can’t seem to shudder,” said the boy. “I’ll never learn what fear is here.”

Then a man came in who looked larger and more terrible than all the others. He was old, with a long white beard. “Now, you wretch,” said the man, “now you’ll learn what fear is, for you are about to die!”

“Not so fast,” said the boy. “If I’m about to die I ought to know more about it.”

“Just wait till I catch hold of you,” said the monster.

“Gently, gently, take it easy. I’m as strong as you and even stronger.”

“We’ll see about that,” said the old man. “If you turn out to be stronger than me then I’ll let you go.” And he led him along dark passageways to a forge where a fire was burning, picked up an axe and struck one of the two anvils in the forge so hard that it went right down into the ground.

“I can do better than that,” said the boy, going over to the other anvil. The old man stood behind him to watch, with his white beard hanging down. The boy picked up the axe, split the anvil with a single blow and caught and wedged the old man’s beard in it. “Now I have you where I want you,” said the boy, “and you’re the one about to die.”

With these words he picked up an iron bar and beat the old man until he was whimpering and begging him to stop, promising him great riches in return.

The boy took the axe out of the anvil and let him go. Then the old man led him back into the castle and showed him three chests full of gold in a cellar. “One of these is for the poor,” he said, “the second is for the King, and the third is for you.”

At that moment midnight struck and the spirit disappeared, leaving the boy in the dark. “I expect I can find my own way out of here,” he said, groping around until he found the way back to his room, where he lay down by the fire and went to sleep.

Next morning, along came the King. “Well,” he said, “I expect you’ve learnt what fear is by now.”

“I’m afraid not,” said the boy. “What can it be like? My dead cousin paid me a visit, and a man with a beard came and showed me a great deal of money down in the cellar, but no one’s told me how to shudder with fear.”

“You have broken the spell on the castle,” said the King, “and you can have my daughter as your wife.”

“That’s all very well,” replied the boy, “but I still don’t know what fear is.”

Then the gold was brought up from the cellar and the young couple were married, but dearly as the new Prince loved his wife and happy as he was with her, he still kept saying, “Oh, if only I could shudder with fear! If only I knew what fear is.”

After a while this made the Princess very sad. Then her lady’s maid said, “I can help you, and then he’ll soon learn to shudder and know what fear is.”

She went out to the stream that flowed through the palace gardens, and filled a bucket with water and little fish. That night, when the young Prince was asleep, his wife pulled back the covers and tipped the bucket full of fish and cold water over him. The little fish flapped about in the bed, and he woke up and cried, “Oh, how I’m shuddering, dear wife, how my flesh creeps! At long, long last I know what fear is.”

O
NCE UPON A TIME
there was an old nanny-goat who had seven little kids, and she loved them as dearly as any mother loves her children. One day she wanted to go out into the forest and search for food, so she gathered all seven around her and said, “Dear children, I’m going into the forest, and mind you keep your eyes open for the wolf, because if he gets in he’ll eat you up, hair and skin and all. That wicked wolf often disguises himself, but you can always tell him at once by his gruff voice and his black paws.”

“We’ll be very careful, dear Mother,” said the little kids. “You just go out, and don’t worry.”

Then the old nanny-goat bleated, and went out with her mind at rest.

It wasn’t long before someone knocked on the front door of the house and cried, “Open the door, dear children, here’s your mother back with something nice for each of you.” But the little kids heard that gruff voice, and knew it was the wolf.

“We’re not opening the door,” they said. “You’re not our mother. She has a soft, kind voice, but your voice is gruff. You’re the wolf.”

So the wolf went away to a shop, bought a big piece of chalk and ate it to soften his voice. Then he came back, knocked on the door of the house again and cried, “Open the door, dear children, here’s your mother back with something nice for each of you.” However, the wolf had put his black paws up on the window sill, and when the kids saw them they cried, “We’re not opening the door. Our mother doesn’t have black paws like you. You’re the wolf.”

So then the wolf went off to a baker and said, “I’ve hurt my paws, please put some dough over them.” And when the baker had covered his paws with dough, he went off to the miller and said, “Sprinkle some white flour on my paws.” The miller thought: The wolf is planning to trick someone. So he refused, but the wolf said, “If you don’t do as I say I’ll eat you.” On hearing those words the miller sprinkled white flour over the wolf ’s paws because he was afraid. That’s human nature for you.

Then the wicked wolf went back to the door of the house for the third time, knocked at it and cried, “Open the door, dear children, here’s your mother back with something nice for each of you.”

“Show us your paws,” called the little kids. “Then we’ll know whether you’re our mother.”

So he put his paws up on the window sill, and when the little kids saw that they were white, they thought that everything he said was true, and they opened the door. But it was not their mother but the wolf who came in. They were terrified, and tried to hide. One of them got under the table, the second jumped into bed, the third into the stove, the fourth ran into the kitchen, the fifth hid in the wardrobe, the sixth hid under the china wash basin and the seventh climbed into the case of the grandfather clock standing against the wall. However, the wolf found them all, and without more ado he swallowed them one by one. All except for the seventh, who was hiding in the case of the clock—he didn’t find the seventh and youngest little kid. When the wolf had satisfied his appetite, he strolled away, lay down under a tree in the green meadow outside the house and fell fast asleep.

Not long after that, the old nanny-goat came home from the forest. What a shocking sight met her eyes! The front door of the house was wide open, the table, the chairs and the benches were all thrown around the room, the china wash basin was broken to pieces, the blankets and pillows had been pulled off the bed. She looked for her children, but they were nowhere to be found. She called them all by their names, one by one, and at last, when she came to the youngest, a little voice replied, “Mother, dear Mother, here I am in the case of the clock standing against the wall.” So she let the kid
out of the clock case, and he told her how the wolf had come and eaten up all the others. You can imagine how she grieved, shedding tears for her poor children.

At last, in her sorrow, she went out of the house, and the youngest little kid went with her. When she came to the meadow, there was the wolf lying under the tree, snoring loud enough to make the branches tremble. She looked at him from all sides, and saw something moving and kicking about in his swollen belly. Oh God, she thought, can my poor children still be alive in there after the wolf swallowed them for his supper? She told the youngest kid to run home and fetch her scissors, needle and thread. Then she slit the monster’s belly open, and as soon as she had made the first cut, one of the little kids put his head out, and as she went on snipping and snipping all six jumped out one by one. They were alive, and hadn’t even suffered any harm, because in his greed the monster had swallowed them whole. How happy they all were! They hugged their dear mother, and hopped and skipped about like a tailor on his wedding day.

However, the old nanny-goat said, “Off you go now and look for some lumps of rock. We’ll fill that godless animal’s belly with stones while he lies there sleeping.” So her seven little kids made haste to bring stones along, and they put as many as they could inside the wolf ’s belly. Then the old nanny-goat sewed it up again as
fast as she could, so that he didn’t notice anything and didn’t even move.

When the wolf awoke at last he stood up, and thought he would go to a well and drink. But when he began to walk, moving backwards and forwards, the stones clashed together in his belly and rattled about. Then the wolf said:

And when he came to the well and bent over it to drink, the weight of the heavy stones dragged him in, and he drowned miserably. When the seven little kids saw that, they ran up, crying out, “The wolf is dead, the wolf is dead!” while they and their mother danced around the well for joy.

L
ITTLE BROTHER TOOK
his Little Sister’s hand and said, “Since Mother died, we haven’t had a single hour of happiness. Our stepmother beats us every day, and when we go up to her she kicks us away. We’re fed on hard, left-over breadcrusts, and the little dog under the table eats better than we do, because she sometimes throws him a nice morsel. May God grant that our real mother knows nothing about it. Come along, let’s go out into the wide world.”

So they walked all day long, over meadows and fields and rocks, and when it rained Little Sister said, “God and our hearts are shedding tears together.” In the evening they came to a great forest, and they were so weary with grief, hunger and the long way they had walked that they sat down inside a hollow tree and fell asleep.

When they woke up next morning the sun was already high in the sky, with its warm light shining into the tree. Then Little Brother said, “Little Sister, I’m thirsty. If I knew where there was a spring of water, I’d go and
drink from it—and I think I hear the sound of a stream somewhere close.”

So Little Brother stood up, took Little Sister’s hand, and they went in search of the spring of water. But the children’s wicked stepmother was a witch, and when she saw that they had run away she had stolen after them in the secret way of witches, and cast a spell on all the springs in the forest. When they came to a little spring with water gushing out, glittering as it ran over the stones in the bed of a stream, Little Brother was going to drink from it. But Little Sister heard the water speak as it ran along, saying, “Drink from me, and a tiger you’ll be; drink from me, and a tiger you’ll be.”

“Oh, please don’t drink from this spring, Little Brother,” cried Little Sister, “or you’ll turn into a wild beast and tear me to pieces.”

So Little Brother didn’t drink, even though he was so thirsty. “I’ll wait until we come to the next spring,” he said. But when they came to the next spring, Little Sister heard this one speak too, saying, “Drink from me, and a wolf you’ll be; drink from me, and a wolf you’ll be.”

“Oh, please don’t drink from this spring either, Little Brother, or you’ll turn into a wolf and eat me up.”

So Little Brother didn’t drink from that spring either. “I’ll wait until we come to the next spring,” he said, “but then I must drink from it, whatever you say, because I’m so thirsty.”

And when they came to the next spring, Little Sister heard its water saying as it ran along, “Drink from me, and a deer you’ll be; drink from me, and a deer you’ll be.”

“Oh, please don’t drink, Little Brother,” said Little Sister, “or you’ll turn into a deer and run away from me.”

But Little Brother was already kneeling beside the spring, and he bent over it and drank the water. As soon as the first drops passed his lips, he changed shape and became a young deer.

Little Sister shed bitter tears over her poor bewitched Little Brother, and the little deer shed tears as well and sat sadly beside her. At last the girl said, “Hush, little deer, I will never leave you.” Then she took off her golden garter and put it around the deer’s neck, she picked some rushes and wove them into a soft rope, she tied the little deer to the rope and led him on, going deeper and deeper into the forest. At last, when they had walked a long, long way, they came to a little house, and the girl looked inside it. It was empty, and she thought: We could stay and live here. So she looked for leaves and moss to make a soft bed for the deer, and every morning she went out to gather roots, berries and nuts. She also brought back tender young grass for the deer, who happily ate it out of her hands and frisked and played around her. In the evening, when Little Sister was tired and had said her prayers, she put her head on the back of the deer
as a pillow where she gently fell asleep. And if only her brother had been in his human form, they would have lived a wonderful life there.

They lived alone among the woodland trees for some time, but then it so happened that the King of that country was to hold a great hunt in the forest. The sound of hunting horns, the barking of hounds and the merry cries of the huntsmen echoed through the trees, and the deer, hearing it, wanted to see the hunt. “Oh,” he said to Little Sister, “do let me out to see the hunt. I can’t bear being shut up here any longer.” He begged her to let him out until she agreed.

“But,” said his sister, “come back to me in the evening. I’m going to close the door to keep the wild huntsmen out, and if I am to know who you are, you must knock and say: Little Sister, let me in. If I don’t hear you saying that, then I will not open the door.”

The deer ran out, leaping away, and he felt so happy and cheerful in the fresh air. Seeing the beautiful animal, the King and his huntsmen gave chase, but they couldn’t keep up with the deer, and whenever they thought they would catch it, the next minute it would jump over the bushes and disappear. When dusk fell, the deer ran to the little house, knocked on the door and said, “Little Sister, let me in.” Then she opened the door to him, he ran in, and rested on his soft bed all night.

Next morning, the hunt began again, and when the deer heard the hunting horn again, and the huntsmen’s shouts of “Tally-ho!” he couldn’t rest. “Little Sister, open the door for me, I must go out,” he said. Little Sister opened the door for him, saying, “But you must be here again this evening, and say what you said before.”

When the King and his huntsmen saw the deer with the golden ribbon around his neck again, they all chased after him, but he was too quick and nimble for them. The hunt went on all day, but that evening the huntsmen surrounded him, and they wounded him slightly in one foot, so that he had to limp and ran away only slowly. Then one of the huntsmen quietly followed him to the little house, and heard him call, “Little Sister, let me in.” He also saw the door being opened to the deer, and then closed again at once. The huntsman stored up all this in his mind, went to the King, and told him what he had seen and heard.

“Tomorrow,” said the King, “we’ll go hunting once again.”

However, Little Sister was horrified to see that her deer was wounded. She washed the blood off his foot, put healing herbs on the injury and said, “Lie down on your bed, my darling deer, and then you’ll soon be better.” And indeed, the wound was so slight that the deer didn’t feel it any more in the morning. When he heard the cheerful sounds of the hunt outside again, he said,
“I can’t bear to be shut in here, I must see the hunting, and no one will catch me in a hurry.”

Little Sister wept, saying, “Now they’ll kill you, and I’ll be left all alone here in the forest, abandoned by everyone. I won’t let you out.”

“Then I’ll die of sorrow here,” said the deer. “When I hear the hunting horn blow, I feel that I must be up and away!”

So there was nothing else for it: Little Sister, heavy at heart, had to open the door for him and let him out, and the deer ran merrily into the forest, sound and well again. When the King caught sight of him, he told his huntsmen, “Off you go, chase him all day until nightfall, but none of you is to hurt him.” Then, as soon as the sun had set, the King said to the huntsman who had followed the deer, “Now, come and show me the way to the little house in the forest.” And when he reached the door, he knocked and called, “Dear Little Sister, let me in.”

She came to the door. The King came in, and saw a girl more beautiful than any he had ever seen standing there. As for the girl, she was afraid when she saw not the deer, but a man with a golden crown on his head. However, the King looked at her kindly, offered her his hand and asked, “Will you come to my castle with me and become my beloved wife?”

“Oh, yes,” said the girl, “but the deer must come with me. I’m not leaving him behind.”

“He shall stay with you as long as you live,” said the King, “and he shall lack for nothing.” In ran the deer himself now, and his sister tied him to the rope of rushes again, took it in her hand, and they left the little house in the forest.

The King put the beautiful girl up on his horse with him, and took her to his castle, where their wedding was held with great magnificence. Now she was queen of that country, and they lived very happily together for a long time, while the deer was well looked after, and ran and jumped around in the castle garden.

But the wicked stepmother from whom Little Brother and Little Sister had run away, out into the world, felt sure that the girl would have been torn to pieces by wild animals in the forest, while huntsmen would have shot and killed her brother in the form of a deer. When she heard how happy they were now, living in great prosperity, her heart was full of envy and resentment that left her no rest, and she thought of nothing but how she could yet bring them misfortune. Her own daughter, who was ugly as sin and had only one eye, was angry with her, saying, “I’m the one who deserved to be queen.”

“Be quiet, will you?” said her mother, and she added, with satisfaction, “When the time comes, you’ll find that I am there to help you.”

For the time was approaching when the Queen was to have a baby, and she brought a beautiful little boy
into the world. The King happened to be out hunting at the time, and the old witch took on the likeness of the Queen’s chambermaid, went into the room where the Queen lay and said to her, “Come along, there’s a bath ready. It will do you good, and give you fresh strength, so hurry up before the water gets cold.”

Her daughter was there with her, and between them they carried the Queen, still weak from the birth of the baby, into the bathroom and put her in the water. Then they locked the door and ran away. First, however, they had lit a blazing fire in the bathroom, and the beautiful young Queen was quickly smothered by its fumes.

When that was done, the old woman took her daughter, put a cap on her head and laid her in the bed instead of the Queen. She also cast a spell to give her the Queen’s appearance and figure, but she couldn’t restore the eye that the girl had lost. She told her to lie on the side where she had no eye, so that the King wouldn’t notice. When he came home, and heard that he had a little son, he was delighted, and wanted to go up to his dear wife’s bed and see how she was doing.

“No, no!” cried the old woman quickly. “Leave the curtains drawn round the bed. The Queen mustn’t see bright light yet, and she needs to be left in peace to rest.”

So the King went away again, with no idea that a false queen was lying in the bed.

But when it was midnight, and everyone was asleep except the nursemaid sitting by the cradle, the nursemaid saw the door open, and the real Queen came in. She picked the baby up out of the cradle, held him in her arms and suckled him at her breast. Then she shook up his little pillow for him, put him back in the cradle and covered him up. Nor did she forget the deer; she went to the corner where he lay and stroked his back. After that she went out of the door again, still in silence.

Next morning the nursemaid asked the guards if anyone had entered the castle during the night. But they said, “No, we didn’t see anyone.” The Queen came back on many more of the following nights, and never said a word. The nursemaid always saw her, but she dared not tell anyone about it.

When some time had passed by in this way, the Queen began to speak in the night, saying;

The nursemaid did not reply, but when the Queen had disappeared again she went to the King and told him all about it.

“Oh God, what tale is this?” cried the King. “I will keep watch over the child tomorrow night.” So in the evening he went to the nursery, and at midnight the Queen appeared again and said:

At that the King could not control his feelings. He went up to her and said, “You can be no one but my own dear wife.”

“I am indeed your own dear wife,” she replied, and at that moment, by the grace of God, she came back to life and looked bright and cheerful and healthy. Then she told the King about the crime that the wicked witch and her daughter had committed. The King had mother and daughter taken before the law courts, and sentence was passed on them. The daughter was taken out into the forest, where the wild beasts tore her to pieces, and the witch was burnt to death at the stake. Once she was nothing but ashes, the deer returned to human form. Then the brother and sister lived happily until the end of their days.