BOOK 398.2.F718 v. 1 - 2 c. 1 
 
 FOLK LORE AND LEGENDS GERMANY # F 
 
 OLK LORE AND LEGENDS GERMANY 
 
 3 T1S3 DD12M20T 
 
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 mi 
 
 Joseph M^Aleekan 
 
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F^OLK-LORE .p^^ 
 
 AND \ C "^ 
 
 LEGENDS ' M^ 
 
 GERMANY 
 
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 J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 
 
 PHILADELPHIA- 
 
 1892 
 

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\ 
 
 PEEFATORY NOTE 
 
 V 
 
 It is proposed that this shall be the first of a 
 series of little volumes in which shall be pre- 
 sented in a handy form selections from the 
 Folklore and legends of various countries. It 
 has been well said that "the legendary history 
 of a nation is the recital of the elements that 
 formed the character of that nation ; it contains 
 the first rude attempts to explain natural 
 phenomena, the traditions of its early history, 
 and the moral principles popularly adopted as 
 the rules for reward and punishment; and 
 generally the legends of a people may be 
 regarded as embodying the popular habits of 
 thought and popular motives of action." The 
 following legends of Germany cannot, we think, 
 fail to interest those who read them. Some of 
 the stories are invested with a charming sim- 
 
VI PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 plicity of thought which cannot but excite ad- 
 miration. Others are of a weird, fantastic 
 character fitted to a laud of romantic natural 
 features, of broad river, mountain, and deep 
 forest. The humorous, the pathetic, the terrible, 
 all find place in the German folk-tales, and it 
 would be difficult to rise from their perusal 
 without havin£[ received both amusement and 
 instruction. The general lesson they convey is 
 the sure punishment of vice and the reward 
 of virtue ; some way or another the villain 
 always meets with his desert. In future volumes 
 we shall deal with the legends of other countries, 
 hoping that the public will bear us company 
 in our excursions. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Gaffer Death, . 
 
 , 
 
 PAGE 
 1 
 
 The Legend of Paracelsus, 
 
 . 
 
 6 
 
 Hans in Luck, . 
 
 . 
 
 9 
 
 The Grey INIare in the Garret, 
 
 . 
 
 17 
 
 The Water Spirit, 
 
 . 
 
 21 
 
 Peter Klaus, 
 
 . 
 
 31 
 
 The Legend of Rheineck, 
 
 
 36 
 
 The Cellar of the Old Knights 
 
 n the Kyffhauser, 
 
 48 
 
 The Fisherman and his Wife, 
 
 . 
 
 53 
 
 The Mouse Tower, 
 
 . 
 
 62 
 
 The Dancers, 
 
 . 
 
 66 
 
 The Little Shroud, 
 
 . 
 
 70 
 
 The Arch Rogue, 
 
 . 
 
 72 
 
 Brother Merry, . 
 
 
 82 
 
 Fastrada, 
 
 . 
 
 100 
 
 The Jew in the Bush, . 
 
 . 
 
 104 
 
 The Elves, 
 
 . 
 
 110 
 
 The Conclave of Corpse^. 
 
 
 114 
 
Vlll 
 
 CONTEXTS. 
 
 Legends of Rubezahl, oi 
 
 ' Number-Nip, 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 120 
 
 The Hunter Hackelnberg and the Tut-Osel, , 
 
 
 131 
 
 TheAlraun, . . . 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 The Goose-Girl, 
 
 
 
 
 
 140 
 
 Hans Jagenteufel, 
 
 
 
 
 
 149 
 
 The Waits of Bremen, 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 152 
 
 The Flaming Castle, 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 158 
 
 The Monks at the Ferr} 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 161 
 
 Doctor All- Wise, 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 168 
 
 The White Maiden, 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 172 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 The value of national stories and legends has in 
 late years become very widely recognised. Folk- 
 lore has recently received a large amount of atten- 
 tion, and the thought and labour bestowed upon 
 the subject have been rewarded by results which 
 prove that its investigators have entered upon no 
 unfruitful, however long neglected, field. 
 
 This book, and its successors in the series which 
 it is proposed to issue, may come into the hands of 
 some who, having little opportunity afforded them 
 to consider how the legends and tales it contains 
 may be of the value we claim for them, may be 
 glad to have the " case " for legends and national 
 stories presented to them in a few words. 
 
 The peasant's tale, the story preserved through 
 centuries on the lips of old wives, the narrative 
 which has come down to us having done duty as a 
 source of amusement in the fireside groups of pre- 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ceding generations, may seem to some to afford 
 slight matter for reflection, and may even appear 
 so grotesque in its incidents as to be fitted only to 
 excite a smile of wonder at the simplicity of those 
 among whom such stories could obtain reception, 
 and surprise at the fantastic imagination in which 
 such tales could find their origin. Modern thought 
 has, however, been busy asking itself what is the 
 meaning of these stories, and it has done much to 
 supply itself with an answer. This, at least, it has 
 done : it has discovered that these legends and tales, 
 which so many have been inclined to cast aside as 
 worthless, are of a singular value, as throwing a 
 light which little else can afford upon the mind of 
 primitive man. At first the collection of national 
 stories was undertaken merely for the purpose of 
 afi'ording amusement. Folk-tales were diverting, so 
 they found their way into print, and were issued 
 as curious literary matter fitted to supply diversion 
 for a vacant hour. Many of the tales are very 
 beautiful, and their mere literary merit sufficed to 
 make them sought for. But legendary lore was 
 soon observed to possess much more value than 
 could attach to its merely amusing features. It 
 was obvious that in these legends were preserved 
 the fragments of the beliefs of the ancient folk. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 "The mythology of one period," remarked Sir 
 Walter Scott, "would appear to pass into the 
 romance of the next century, and that into the 
 nursery tale of the subsequent ages." "Fiction," 
 said Sir John Malcolm, " resolves itself into its 
 primitive elements, as, by the slow and unceasing 
 action of the wind and rain, the solid granite is 
 crumbled into sand. The creations embodied by 
 the vivid imagination of man in the childhood of 
 his race incorporate themselves in his fond and 
 mistaken faith. Sanctity is given to his day- 
 dreams by the altar of the idol. Then, perhaps, 
 they acquire a deceitful truth from the genius 
 of the bard. Blended with the mortal hero, 
 the aspect of the god glances through the visor 
 of the helmet, or adds a holy dignity to the 
 royal crown. Poetry borrows its ornaments from 
 the lessons of the priests. The ancient god of 
 strength of the Teutons, throned in his chariot 
 of the stars, the Northern Wain, invested the 
 Emperor of the Franks and the paladins who 
 surrounded him with superhuman might. And 
 the same constellation, darting down its rays 
 upon the head of the long-lost Arthur, has 
 given to the monarch of the Britons the venera- 
 tion which once belonged to the son of 'Uthry 
 
Xll INTEODUCTION. 
 
 Bendragon,' 'Thunder, the supreme leader,' and 
 *Eygyr, the generating power.' Time rolls on; 
 faith lessens; the flocks are led to graze within 
 the rocky circle of the giants, even the bones 
 of the warriors moulder into dust; the lay is 
 no longer heard; and the fable, reduced again 
 to its original simplicity and nudity, becomes 
 the fitting source of pastime to the untutored 
 peasant and the listening child. Hence we may 
 yet trace no small proportion of mystic and 
 romantic lore in the tales which gladden the 
 cottage fireside, or, century after century, soothe 
 the infant to its slumbers." The works of the 
 brothers Grimm, the appearance of the Kinder- 
 und-Raus-Mclhrchen, in 1812, and of the Deutsche 
 3fythologie, in 1835, threw a new light on the 
 importance of national tales, and awoke the 
 spirit of scientific comparison which has made 
 the study of Folklore productive of such valuable 
 results. 
 
 With regard to the difi'usion of national stories, 
 it is remarkable that we find substantially identical 
 narratives flourishing in the most widely separated 
 countries, and this fact has given rise to several 
 explanatory theories, none of which seems perfectly 
 satisfactory. The philological discovery of the 
 
INTKODUCTION. XIU 
 
 original unity of all the Aryan races may account 
 for the possession by the Aryan peoples of similar 
 stories. It may be, as Sir George Cox suggests, a 
 common inheritance of such tales as were current 
 when the Aryans " still lived as a single people." 
 We find, however, that these tales are also current 
 among people whom, accepting this theory, we 
 should least expect to find possessing them, and so 
 the wide difiusion of the stories yet remains un- 
 satisfactorily accounted for. Identity of imagina- 
 tion, inheritance, transmission, may each have played 
 its part. 
 
 As to the origin of the tales much debate has 
 arisen. It is obvious from the nature of the inci- 
 dents of many of them that they could only have 
 originated in a most primitive state of man. 
 "Early man," says Sir George Cox, "had life, 
 and therefore all things must have life also. The 
 sun, the moon, the stars, the ground on which he 
 trod, the clouds, storms, lightnings were all living 
 beings; could he help thinking that, like himself, 
 they were all conscious beings also 1" Such, accord- 
 ing to this authority, was the origin of primary 
 myths, secondary and tertiary myths arising in the 
 course of time from the gradual misunderstanding 
 of phrases applied by primitive man to personified 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 objects. According to Professor Max Miiller, anim- 
 ism, or tlie investing all things with life, springs not 
 in the first place from man's thought, but from the 
 language in which he clothes it. Man, he says, 
 found himself speaking of all things in words having 
 "a termination expressive of gender, and this 
 naturally produced in the mind the corresponding 
 idea of sex." He thus came to invest all objects 
 T\dth "something of an individual, active, sexual, 
 and at last personal character." However hard it 
 may be to discover the reason for the origin of the 
 tendency to animism, the fact is certain that the 
 tendency is to be found generally existing among 
 savage peoples, and it would seem that we must 
 accept the national stories which have come down 
 to us embodying this tendency in grotesque inci- 
 dents as relics handed down from the savage days 
 of the people with whom the tales originated, as the 
 expression of portions of their thought when they 
 had as yet only attained to such a degree of 
 civilisation as exists among savages of the present 
 day. 
 
 Strange and grotesque as some of the national 
 stories are, they may be regarded as embodying 
 the fragments of some of man's most primitive 
 beliefs; and recognising this, it will be impossible to 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 dismiss the folk-tale as unworthy of careful con- 
 sideration, nor may it be regarded as unfitted to 
 afford us, if studied aright, very much more than 
 merely such amusement as may be derived from its 
 quaint incident and grotesque plot. 
 
 C. J. T. 
 
GAFFEE DEATH. 
 
 There was once a poor man who had twelve chil- 
 dren, and he was obliged to labour day and night 
 that he might earn food for them. When at length, 
 as it so happened, a thirteenth came into the world, 
 the poor man did not know how to help himself, 
 so he ran out into the highway, determined to 
 ask the first person he met to be godfather to the 
 boy. 
 
 There came stalking up to him Death, who said — 
 
 " Take me for a godfather." 
 
 " Who are you 1 " asked the father. 
 
 " I am Death, who makes all equal," replied the 
 stranger. 
 
 Then said the man — 
 
 " You are one of the right sort : you ceize on rich 
 and poor without distinction ; you shall be the child's 
 godfather." 
 
 Death answered — 
 
 " I will make the boy rich and renowned through- 
 out the world, for he who has me for a friend can 
 want nothing." 
 
 A 
 
2 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 Said the man — 
 
 " Next Sunday will he be christened, raind and 
 come at the right time." 
 
 Death accordingly appeared as he had promised, 
 and stood godfather to the child. 
 
 When the boy grew up his godfather came to 
 him one day, and took him into a wood, and 
 said — 
 
 " Now shall you have your godfather's present. I 
 will make a most famous physician of you. When- 
 ever you are called to a sick person, I will take care 
 and show myself to you. If I stand at the foot of 
 the bed, say boldly, 'I will soon restore you to 
 health,' and give the patient a little herb that I will 
 point out to you, and he will soon be well. If, 
 however, I stand at the head of the sick person, he 
 is mine ; then say, ' All help is useless ; he must 
 soon die.' " 
 
 Then Death showed him the little herb, and 
 said — 
 
 "Take heed that you never use it in ojDposition 
 to my will." 
 
 It was not long before the young fellow was the 
 most celebrated physician in the whole world. 
 
 " The moment he sees a person," said every one, 
 "he knows whether or not he'll recover." 
 
 Accordingly he was soon in great request. People 
 came from far and near to consult him, and they 
 gave him whatever he required, so that he made an 
 
GAFFER DEATH. 3 
 
 immense fortune. Now, it so happened that the 
 king was taken ill, and the physician was called 
 upon to say whether he must die. As he went up 
 to the bed he saw Death standing at the sick 
 man's head, so that there was no chance of his 
 recovery. The physician thought, however, that if 
 he outwitted Death, he would not, perhaps, be much 
 offended, seeing that he w^as his godfather, so he 
 caught hold of the king and turned him round, so 
 that by that means Death was standing at his feet. 
 Then he gave him some of the herb, and the king 
 recovered, and was once more well. Death came 
 up to the physician with a very angry and gloomy 
 countenance, and said — 
 
 " I will forgive you this time what you have done, 
 because I am your godfather, but if you ever venture 
 to betray me again, you must take the consequences." 
 
 Soon after this the king's daughter fell sick, and 
 nobody could cure her. The old king wept night 
 and day, until his eyes were blinded, and at last 
 he proclaimed that whosoever rescued her from 
 Death should be rewarded by marrying her and 
 inheriting his throne. The physician came, but 
 Death was standing at the head of the j^rincess. 
 When the physician saw the beauty of the king's 
 daughter, and thought of the promises that the king 
 had made, he forgot all the warnings he had received, 
 and, although Death frowned heavily all the while, 
 he turned the patient so that Death stood at her 
 
4 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 feet, and gave her some of the herb, so that he once 
 more put life into her veins. 
 
 When Death saw that he was a second time 
 cheated out of his property, he stepped up to the 
 physician, and said — 
 
 "Now, follow me." 
 
 He laid hold of him with his icy cold hand, and 
 led him into a subterranean cave, in which there 
 were thousands and thousands of burning candles, 
 ranged in innumerable rows. Some were whole, 
 some half burnt out, some nearly consumed. Every 
 instant some went out, and fresh ones were lighted, 
 so that the little flames seemed perpetually hopping 
 about. 
 
 "Behold," said Death, "the life-candles of man- 
 kind. The large ones belong to children, those half 
 consumed to middle-aged people, the little ones to 
 the aged. Yet children and young people have 
 oftentimes but a little candle, and when that is 
 burnt out, their life is at an end, and they are mine." 
 
 The physician said — 
 
 "Show me my candle." 
 
 Then Death pointed out a very little candle-end, 
 which was glimmering in the socket, and said — 
 
 " Behold ! " 
 
 Then the physician said — 
 
 "0 dearest godfather, light me up a new one, 
 that I may first enjoy my life, be king, and husband 
 of the beautiful princess." 
 
GAFFER DEATH. 5 
 
 " I cannot do so," said Death ; " one must burn out 
 before I can light up another." 
 
 " Place the old one then upon a new one, that 
 that may burn on when this is at an end," said the 
 physician. 
 
 Death pretended that he would comply with this 
 wish, and reached a large candle, but to revenge 
 himself, purposely failed in putting it up, and the 
 little piece fell and was extinguished. The physician 
 sank with it, so he himself fell into the hands of 
 Death. 
 
THE LEGEND OF PAEACELSUS. 
 
 It once happened that Paracelsus was walking 
 through a forest, when he heard a voice calling to 
 him by name. He looked around, and at length 
 discovered that it proceeded from a fir-tree, in the 
 trunk of which there was a spirit enclosed by a 
 small stopper, sealed with three crosses. 
 
 The spirit begged of Paracelsus to set him free. 
 This he readily promised, on condition that the 
 spirit should bestow upon him a medicine capable 
 of healing all diseases, and a tincture which would 
 turn everything it touched to gold. The spirit 
 acceded to his request, whereupon Paracelsus took 
 his penknife, and succeeded, after some trouble, in 
 getting out the stopper. A loathsome black spider 
 crept forth, which ran down the trunk of the tree. 
 Scarcely had it reached the ground before it was 
 changed, and became, as if rising from the earth, a 
 tall haggard man, with squinting red eyes, wrapped 
 in a scarlet mantle. 
 
 He led Paracelsus to a high, overhanging, craggy 
 mount, and with a hazel twig, which he had broken 
 
 6 
 
THE LEGEND OF PARACELSUS. 7 
 
 off by the way, he smote the rock, which, splitting 
 with a crash at the blow, divided itself in twain, 
 and the spirit disappeared within it. He, however, 
 soon returned with two small phials, which he 
 handed to Paracelsus — a yellow one, containing the 
 tincture which turned all it touched to gold, and 
 a white one, holding the medicine which healed all 
 diseases. He then smote the rock a second time, 
 and thereupon it instantly closed again. 
 
 Both now set forth on their return, the spirit 
 directing his course towards Innspiiick, to seize 
 upon the magician who had banished him from that 
 city. Now Paracelsus trembled for the conse- 
 quences which his releasing the Evil One would 
 entail upon him who had conjured him into the 
 tree, and bethought how he might rescue him. 
 When they arrived once more at the fir-tree, he 
 asked the spirit if he could possibly transform him- 
 self again into a spider, and let him see him creep 
 into the hole. The spirit said that it was not only 
 possible, but that he would be most happy to make 
 such a display of his art for the gratification of his 
 deliverer. 
 
 Accordingly he once more assumed the form 
 of a spider, and crept again into the well-known 
 crevice. When he had done so, Paracelsus, who 
 had kept the stopper all ready in his hand for the 
 purpose, clapped it as quick as lightning into the hole, 
 hammered it in firmly with a stone, and with his 
 
8 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 knife made three fresh crosses upon it. Thr spirit, 
 mad with rage, shook the fir-tree as though with a 
 whirlwind, that he might drive out the stopper 
 which Paracelsus had thrust in, but his fury was of 
 no avail. It held fast, and left him there with 
 little hope of escape, for, on account of the great 
 drifts of snow from the mountains, the forest will 
 never be cut down, and, althoudi he should call 
 night and day, nobody in that neighbourhood ever 
 ventures near the spot. 
 
 Paracelsus, however, found that the phials were 
 such as he had demanded, and it was by their 
 means that he afterwards became such a celebrated 
 and distinguished man. 
 
HANS m LUCK. 
 
 Hans had served his master seven years, and at last 
 said to him — 
 
 " Master, my time is up ; I should like to go home 
 and see my mother, so give me my wages." 
 
 And the master said — 
 
 " You have been a faithful and good servant, so 
 your pay shall be handsome." 
 
 Then he gave him a piece of silver that was as big 
 as his head. Hans took out his pocket-handkerchief, 
 put the piece of silver into it, threw it over his 
 shoulder, and jogged off homewards. As he went 
 lazily on, dragging one foot after another, a man 
 came in sight, trotting along gaily on a capital 
 horse. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Hans aloud, " what a fine thing it is 
 to ride on horseback ! There he sits as if he were 
 at home in his chair. He trips against no stones, 
 spares his shoes, and yet gets on he hardly knows 
 how." 
 
 The horseman heard this, and said — 
 
 " Well, Hans, why do you go on foot, then 1 " 
 
10 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " Ah ! " said he, " I have this load to carry ; to be 
 sure, it is silver, but it is so heavy that I can't hold 
 up my head, and it hurts my shoulder sadly." 
 
 " What do you say to changing 1 " said the horse- 
 man. "I will give you my horse, and you shall 
 give me the silver." 
 
 " With all my heart," said Hans, " but I tell you 
 one thing : you will have a weary task to drag it 
 along." 
 
 The horseman got off, took the silver, helped 
 Hans up, gave him the bridle into his hand, and 
 said — 
 
 " When you want to go very fast, you must smack 
 your lips loud and cry, * Jip.' " 
 
 Hans was delighted as he sat on the horse, and 
 rode merrily on. After a time he thought he should 
 like to go a little faster, so he smacked his lips and 
 cried " Jip. " Away went the horse full gallop, and 
 before Hans knew what he was about, he was thrown 
 off, and lay in a ditch by the wayside, and his horse 
 would have run off if a shepherd, who was coming 
 by driving a cow, had not stopped it. Hans soon 
 came to himself, and got upon his legs again. He 
 was sadly vexed, and said to the shepherd — 
 
 " This riding is no joke when a man gets on a 
 beast like this, that stumbles and flings him off as if 
 he would break his neck. However, I 'm off now 
 once for all. I like your cow a great deal better ; 
 one can walk alono; at one's leisure behind her, and 
 
HANS IN LUCK. 11 
 
 have milk, butter, and cheese every day into the 
 bargain. What would I give to have such a cow ! " 
 
 " Well," said the shepherd, " if you are so fond of 
 her I will change my cow for your horse." 
 
 " Done ! " said Hans merrily. 
 
 The shepherd jumped upon the horse and away 
 he rode. Hans drove off his cow quietly, and 
 thought his bargain a very lucky one. 
 
 " If I have only a piece of bread (and I certainly 
 shall be able to get that), I can, whenever I like, eat 
 my butter and cheese with it, and when I am thirsty 
 I can milk my cow and drink the milk. What can I 
 wish for more 1 " said he. 
 
 When he came to an inn he halted, ate up all his 
 bread, and gave away his last penny for a glass of 
 beer. Then he drove his cow towards his mother's 
 village. The heat grew greater as noon came on, 
 till at last he found himself on a wide heath that it 
 would take him more than an hour to cross, and he 
 began to be so hot and parched that his tongue 
 cleaved to the roof of his mouth. 
 
 "I can find a cure for this," thought he; "now 
 will I milk my cow and quench my thirst." So he 
 tied her to the stump of a tree, and held his 
 leathern cap to milk into, but not a drop was to 
 be had. 
 
 While he was trying his luck, and managing the 
 matter very clumsily, the uneasy beast gave him a 
 kick on the head that knocked him down, and there 
 
12 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 he lay a long while senseless. Luckily a hutcher 
 came by driving a pig in a wheelbarrow. 
 
 " What is the matter with you 1 " said the butcher, 
 as he helped him up. 
 
 Hans told him what had happened, and the 
 butcher gave him a flask, saying — 
 
 "There, drink and refresh yourself. Your cow 
 will give you no milk ; she is an old beast, good for 
 nothing but the slaughter-house." 
 
 " Alas, alas ! " said Hans, " who would have 
 thought if? If I kill her, what will she be good 
 for] I hate cow-beef; it is not tender enough for 
 me. If it were a pig, now, one could do something 
 with it ; it would at any rate make some sausages." 
 
 "AVell," said the butcher, "to please you I'll 
 change and give you the pig for the cow." 
 
 " Heaven reward you for your kindness ! " said 
 Hans, as he gave the butcher the cow and took the 
 pig off the wheelbarrow and drove it off, holding it 
 by a string tied to its leg. 
 
 So on he jogged, and all seemed now to go right 
 with him. He had met with some misfortunes, to be 
 sure, but he was now well repaid for all. The next 
 person he met was a countryman carrying a fine 
 white goose under his arm. The countryman 
 stopped to ask what was the hour, and Hans told 
 him all his luck, and how he had made so many good 
 bargains. The countryman said he was going to 
 take the goose to a christening. 
 
HANS IN LUCK. 13 
 
 " Feel," said he, " how heavy it is, and yet it is 
 only eight weeks old. Whoever roasts and eats it 
 may cut plenty of fat off, it has lived so well." 
 
 " You 're right," said Hans, as he weighed it in 
 his hand ; " but my pig is no trifle." 
 
 Meantime the countryman began to look grave, 
 and shook his head. 
 
 " Hark ye," said he, " my good friend. Your pig 
 may get you into a scrape. In the village I have 
 just come from the squire has had a pig stolen out 
 of his sty. I was dreadfully afraid when I saw 
 you that you had got the squire's pig. It will be 
 a bad job if they catch you, for the least they '11 do 
 nvill be to throw you into the horse-pond." 
 
 Poor Hans was sadly frightened. 
 
 " Good man," cried he, " pray get me out of this 
 scrape. You know this country better than I ; take 
 my pig and give me the goose." 
 
 "I ought to have something into the bargain," 
 said the countryman ; " however, I '11 not bear hard 
 upon you, as you are in trouble." 
 
 Then he took the string in his hand and drove 
 off the pig by a side path, while Hans went on his 
 way homeward free from care. 
 
 " After all," thought he, " I have the best of the 
 bargain. First there will be a capital roast, then 
 the fat will find me in goose-grease for six months, 
 and then there are all the beautiful white feathers. 
 I will put them into my pillow, and then I am sure 
 
14 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. . 
 
 I shall sleep soundly without rocking. How happy 
 my mother will be ! " 
 
 As he came to the last village he saw a scissors- 
 grinder, with his wheel, working away and singing — 
 
 " O'er hill and o'er dale so happy I roam, 
 Work light and live well, all the world is my home ; 
 Who so blythe, so merry as I ? " 
 
 Hans stood looking for a while, and at last said — 
 
 " You must be well off, master grinder, you seem 
 so happy at your w^ork." 
 
 " Yes," said the other, " mine is a golden trade. 
 A good grinder never puts his hand in his pocket 
 without finding money in it — but where did you 
 get that beautiful goose 1 " 
 
 " I did not buy it, but changed a pig for it." 
 
 " And where did you get the pig 1 " 
 
 *' I gave a cow for it." 
 
 " And the cow ? " 
 
 " I gave a horse for it." 
 
 '' And the horse 1 " 
 
 " I gave a piece of silver as big as my head for 
 that." 
 
 "And the silver r' 
 
 " Oh ! I worked hard for that seven long years." 
 
 " You have thriven well in the world hitherto," 
 said the grinder, " now if you could find money in 
 your pocket whenever you put your hand into it 
 your fortune would be made." 
 
HANS IN LUCK. 15 
 
 " Very true, but how is that to be managed 1 " 
 
 " You must turn grinder like me," said the other. 
 "You only want a grindstone, the rest will come of 
 itself. Here is one that is only a little the worse 
 for wear. I would not ask more than the value of 
 your goose for it. Will you buy it 1 " 
 
 " How can you ask such a question 1 " said Hans. 
 " I should be the happiest man in the world if I 
 could have money whenever I put my hand in my 
 pocket. What could I want more 1 There 's the 
 goose." 
 
 "Now," said the grinder, as he gave him a 
 common rough stone that lay by his side, " this is 
 a most capital stone. Do but manage it cleverly 
 and you can make an old nail cut with it." 
 
 Hans took the stone, and went off with a light 
 heart. His eyes sparkled with joy, and he said to 
 himself — 
 
 " I must have been born in a lucky hour. Every- 
 thing I want or wish comes to me of itself." 
 
 Meantime he began to be tired, for he had been 
 travelling ever since daybreak. He was hungry too, 
 for he had given away his last penny in his joy at 
 getting the cow. At last he could go no further, 
 and the stone tired him terribly, so he dragged him- 
 self to the side of the pond that he might drink some 
 water and rest a while. He laid the stone carefully 
 by his side on the bank, but as he stooped down to 
 drink he forgot it, raished it a little, and down it 
 
16 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 went, plump into the pond. For a while he watched 
 it sinking in the deep, clear water, then sprang up 
 for joy, and again fell upon his knees and thanked 
 Heaven with tears in his eyes for its kindness in 
 taking away his only plague, the ugly, heavy stone. 
 
 " How happy am I ! " cried he ; "no mortal was 
 ever so lucky as I am." 
 
 Then he got up with a light and merry heart, and 
 walked on, free from all his troubles, till he reached 
 his mother's house. 
 
THE GREY MARE IN THE GARRET. 
 
 In the portal of the Church of the Apostles, near 
 the new market in Cologne, hung a picture, the 
 portraits of a certain Erau Richmodis von Aclucht 
 and her two children, of whom the following singu- 
 lar story is related. The picture was covered with 
 a curtain which she worked with her own hands. 
 
 Her husband, Richmuth von Aducht, was, in the 
 year of grace 1400, a rich burgomaster of Cologne, 
 and lived at the sign of the Parroquet in the New 
 Marckt. In that year a fearful plague desolated all 
 quarters of the city. She fell sick of the pest, and, 
 to all appearance, died. After the usual period had 
 elapsed she was buried in the vaults of the Apostles* 
 Church. She was buried, as the custom then was, 
 with her jewelled rings on her fingers, and most of 
 her rich ornaments on her person. These tempted 
 the cupidity of the sexton of the church. He 
 argued with himself that they were no use to the 
 corpse, and he determined to possess them. Accord- 
 ingly he proceeded in the dead of night to the vault 
 where she lay interred, and commenced the work 
 B 
 
18 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 of sacrilegious spoliation. He first unscrewed the 
 cofiin lid. He then removed it altogether, and pro- 
 ceeded to tear away the shroud which interposed 
 between him and his prey. But w^hat was his 
 horror to perceive the corpse clasp her hands slowly 
 together, then rise^ and finally sit erect in the coflSn. 
 He was rooted to the earth. The corpse made as 
 though it would step from its narrow bed, and the 
 sexton fled, shrieking, through the vaults. The 
 corpse followed, its long white shroud floating like 
 a meteor in the dim light of the lamp, which, in his 
 haste, he had forgotten. It was not until he reached 
 his own door that he had suflScient courage to look 
 behind him, and then, when he perceived no trace of 
 his pursuer, the excitement which had sustained 
 him so far subsided, and he sank senseless to the 
 earth. 
 
 In the meantime Richmuth von Aducht, who had 
 slept scarcely a moment since the death of his dear 
 wife, was surprised by the voice of his old man- 
 servant, who rapped loudly at his chamber door, 
 and told him to awake and come forth, for his 
 mistress had arisen from the dead, and was then at 
 the gate of the courtyard. 
 
 " Bah ! " said he, rather pettishly, " go thy ways, 
 Hans ; you dream, or are mad, or drunk. What you 
 see is quite impossible. I should as soon believe 
 my old grey mare had got into the garret as that 
 my wife was at the courtyard gate." 
 
THE GKEY MAKE IN THE GAREET. 19 
 
 Trot, trot, trot, trot, suddenly resounded high 
 over his head. 
 
 " What 's that ? " asked he of his servant. 
 
 " I know not," replied the man, " an' it be not 
 your old grey mare in the garret." 
 
 They descended in haste to the courtyard, and 
 looked up to the window of the attic. Lo and be- 
 hold ! there was indeed the grey mare with her head 
 poked out of the window, gazing down with her 
 great eyes on her master and his man, and seeming 
 to enjoy very much her exalted station, and their 
 surprise at it. 
 
 Knock, knock, knock went the rapper of the 
 street gate. 
 
 "It is my wife !" "It is my mistress!" exclaimed 
 master and man in the same breath. 
 
 The door was quickly unfastened, and there, 
 truly, stood the mistress of the mansion, enveloped 
 in her shroud. 
 
 " Are you alive or dead 1 " exclaimed the as- 
 tonished husband. 
 
 " Alive, my dear, but very cold," she murmured 
 faintly, her teeth chattering the while, as those of 
 one in a fever chill ; " help me to my chamber." 
 
 He caught her in his arms and covered her with 
 kisses. Then he bore her to her chamber, and 
 called up the whole house to welcome and assist 
 her. She suffered a little from fatigue and fright, 
 but in a few days was very much recovered. 
 
20 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 The thing became the talk of the town, and 
 hundreds flocked daily to see, not alone the lady 
 that was rescued from the grave in so remarkable a 
 manner, but also the grey mare which had so 
 strangely contrived to get into the garret. 
 
 The excellent lady lived long and happily with 
 her husband, and at her death was laid once more 
 in her old resting-place. The grey mare, after rest- 
 ing in the garret three days, was got down by means 
 of scafl'olding, safe and sound. She survived her 
 mistress for some time, and was a general favourite 
 in the city, and when she died her skin was stuffed, 
 and placed in the arsenal as a curiosity. The sexton 
 went mad with the fright he had sustained, and 
 in a short time entered that bourn whence he 
 had so unintentionally recovered the burgomaster's 
 wife. 
 
 Not only was this memorable circumstance com- 
 memorated in the Church of the Apostles, but it 
 was also celebrated in bassi relievi figures on the 
 walls of the burgomaster's residence — the sign of 
 the Parroquet in the New Marckt. The searcher 
 after antiquities will, however, look in vain for 
 either. They are not now to be found. Modern 
 taste has defaced the porch where stood the one, 
 and erected a shapeless structure on the site of the 
 other. 
 
THE WATER SPIEIT. 
 
 About the middle of the sixteenth century, when 
 Ztindorf was no larger than it is at present, there 
 lived at the end of the village, hard by the church, 
 one of that useful class of women termed midwives. 
 She was an honest, industrious creature, and what 
 with ushering the new-born into life, and then 
 assisting in making garments for them, she con- 
 trived to creep through the world in comfort, if not 
 in complete happiness. 
 
 The summer had been one of unusual drought, 
 and the winter, of a necessity, one of uncommon 
 scarcity, so that when the spring arrived the good 
 woman had less to do than at any period in the 
 preceding seven years. In fact she was totally 
 unemployed. As she mused one night, lying abed, 
 on the matter, she was startled by a sharp, quick 
 knock at the door of her cottage. She hesitated for 
 a moment to answer the call, but the knocking was 
 repeated with more violence than before. This 
 caused her to spring out of bed without more delay, 
 and hasten to ascertain the wish of her impatient 
 
 21 
 
22 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 visitor. She opened the door in the twinkling of 
 an eye, and a man, tall of stature, enveloped in a 
 large dark cloak, stood before her. 
 
 "My wife is in need of thee," he said to her 
 abruptly; "her time is come. Follow me." 
 
 "Nay, but the night is dark, sir," replied she. 
 " Whither do you desire me to follow 1 " 
 
 " Close at hand," he answered, as abruptly as 
 before. " Be ye quick and follow me." 
 
 "I will but light my lamp and place it in the 
 lantern," said the woman. "It will not cost me 
 more than a moment's delay." 
 
 "It needs not, it needs not," repeated the 
 stranger ; " the spot is close by. I know every foot 
 of ground. Follow, follow ! " 
 
 There was something so imperative, and at the 
 same time so irresistible, in the manner of the man 
 that she said not another word, but drawing her 
 warm cloak about her head followed him at once. 
 Ere she was aware of the course he had taken, so 
 dark was the night, and so wrapt up was she in the 
 cloak and in her meditations, she found herself 
 on the bank of the Rhine, just opposite to the low 
 fertile islet which bears the same name as the 
 village, and lies at a little distance from the shore. 
 
 "How is this, good sirl" she exclaimed, in a 
 tone of surprise and alarm. " You have missed the 
 way — you have left your road. Here is no further 
 path." 
 
THE WATER SPIRIT. 23 
 
 "Silence, and follow," were the only words he 
 spoke in reply ; but they were uttered in such a 
 manner as to show her at once that her best course 
 was obedience. 
 
 They were now at the edge of the mighty stream ; 
 the rushing waters washed their feet. The poor 
 woman would fain have drawn back, but she could 
 not, such was the preternatural power exercised 
 over her by her companion. 
 
 " Fear not ; follow ! " he spoke again, in a kinder 
 tone, as the current kissed the hem of her garments. 
 
 He took the lead of her. The waters opened to 
 receive him. A wall of crystal seemed built up on 
 either side of the vista. He plunged into its 
 depths; she followed. The wild wave gurgled over 
 them, and they were walking over the shiny pebbles 
 and glittering sands which strewed the bed of the 
 river. 
 
 And now a change came over her indeed. She 
 had left all on earth in the thick darkness of a 
 starless spring night, yet all around her was lighted 
 up like a mellow harvest eve, when the sun shines 
 refulgent through masses of golden clouds on the 
 smiling pastures and emerald meadows of the west. 
 She looked up, but she could see no cause for this 
 illumination. She looked down, and her search 
 was equally unsuccessful. She seemed to herself to 
 traverse a great hall of surpassing transparency, 
 lighted up by a light resembling that given out by 
 
24 GEKMAA' FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 a huge globe of ground glass. Her conductor still 
 preceded her. They approached a little door. 
 The chamber within it contained the object of 
 their solicitude. On a couch of mother-of-pearl, 
 surrounded by sleeping fishes and drowsy syrens, 
 who could evidently afford her no assistance, lay 
 the sick lady. 
 
 " Here is my wife," spake the stranger, as they 
 entered this chamber. " Take her in hand at once, 
 and hark ye, mother, heed that she has no injury 
 through thee, or " 
 
 \Yith these words he waved his hand, and, pre- 
 ceded by the obedient inhabitants of the river, who 
 had until then occupied the chamber, left the 
 apartment. 
 
 The midwife approached her patient with fear 
 and trembling; she knew not what to anticipate. 
 What was her surprise to perceive that the stranger 
 was like any other lady. The business in hand 
 was soon finished, and midwife and patient began 
 to talk together, as women will when an opportunity 
 is afforded them. 
 
 " It surprises me much," quoth the former, " to 
 see such a handsome young lady as you are buried 
 down here in the bottom of the river. Do you 
 never visit the land ? What a loss it is to you ! " 
 
 " Hush, hush ! " interposed the Triton's lady, 
 placing her forefinger significantly on her lips; 
 " you peril your life by talking thus without guard. 
 
THE WATER SPIRIT. 25 
 
 Go to the door ; look out, that you may see if there 
 be any listeners, then I will tell something to sur- 
 prise you." 
 
 The midwife did as she was directed. There 
 was no living being within earshot. 
 
 " Now, listen," said the lady. 
 
 The midwife was all ear. 
 
 "I am a woman ; a Christian woman like your- 
 self," she continued, " though I am here now in the 
 home of my husband, who is the spirit of these 
 mighty waters." 
 
 " God be praised ! " ejaculated her auditor. 
 
 " My father was the lord of the hamlet of Eheidt, 
 a little above Liilsdorf, and I lived there in peace 
 and happiness during my girlish days. I had no- 
 thing to desire, as every wish was gratified by him 
 as soon as it was formed. However, as I grew to 
 womanhood I felt that my happiness had departed. 
 I knew not whither it had gone, or why, but gone 
 it was. I felt restless, melancholy, wretched. I 
 wanted, in short, something to love, but that I 
 found out since. Well, one day a merry-making 
 took place in the village, and every one was present 
 at it. We danced on the green sward which 
 stretches to the margin of the river ; for that day I 
 forgot my secret grief, and was among the gayest of 
 the gay. They made me the queen of the feast, and 
 I had the homage of all. As the sun was going down 
 in glory in the far west, melting the masses of clouds 
 
26 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 into liquid gold, a stranger of a noble mien appeared 
 in the midst of our merry circle. He was garbed in 
 green from head to heel, and seemed to have crossed 
 the river, for the hem of his rich riding-cloak was 
 dripping with wet. No one knew him, no one 
 cared to inquire who he was, and his presence rather 
 awed than rejoiced us. He was, however, a stranger, 
 and he was welcome. When I tell you that 
 stranger is my husband, you may imagine the rest. 
 When the dance then on foot was ended, he asked 
 my hand. I could not refuse it if I would, but I 
 would not if I could. He was irresistible. We 
 danced and danced until the earth seemed to reel 
 around us. I could perceive, however, even in the 
 whirl of tumultuous delight which forced me onward, 
 that we neared the water's edge in every successive 
 figure. We stood at length on the verge of the 
 stream. The current caught my dress, the villagers 
 shrieked aloud, and rushed to rescue me from the 
 river. 
 
 " ' Follow ! ' said my partner, plunging as he spoke 
 into the foaming flood. 
 
 " I followed. Since then I have lived with him 
 here. It is now a century since, but he has com- 
 municated to me a portion of his own immortality, 
 and I know not age, neither do I dread death any 
 longer. He is good and kind to me, though 
 fearful to others. The only cause of complaint I 
 have is his invariable custom of destroying every 
 
THE WATER SPIRIT. 27 
 
 babe to which I give birth on the third day- 
 after my delivery. He says it is for my sake, 
 and for their sakes, that he does so, and he knows 
 best." 
 
 She sighed heavily as she said this. 
 
 " And now," resumed the lady, " I must give you 
 one piece of advice, which, if you would keep your 
 life, you must implicitly adopt. My husband will 
 return. Be on your guard, I bid you. He will 
 offer you gold, he will pour out the countless treasures 
 he possesses before you, he will proffer you diamonds 
 and pearls and priceless gems, but — heed well what 
 I say to you — take nothing more from him than 
 you would from any other person. Take the exact 
 sum you are wont to receive on earth, and take not 
 a kreutzer more, or your life is not worth a moment's 
 purchase. It is forfeit." 
 
 " He must be a cruel being, indeed," ejaculated 
 the midwife. "God deliver me from this dread 
 and great danger." 
 
 "See you yon sealed vessels'?" spake the lady, 
 without seeming to heed her fright, or hear her 
 ejaculations. 
 
 The midwife looked, and saw ranged on an upper 
 shelf of the apartment about a dozen small pots, 
 like pipkins, all fast sealed, and labelled in unknown 
 characters. 
 
 " These pots," pursued she, " contain the souls of 
 those who have been, like you, my attendants in 
 
28 GERMAN FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 childbirth, but who, for slighting the advice I gave 
 them, as I now give you, and permitting a spirit of 
 unjust gain to take possession of their hearts, were 
 deprived of life by my husband. Heed well what I 
 say. He comes. Be silent and discreet." 
 
 As she spake the water spirit entered. He first 
 asked his wife how she did, and his tones were like 
 the rushing sound of a current heard far off. Learn- 
 ing from her own lips that all was well with her, 
 he turned to the midwife and thanked her most 
 graciously. 
 
 " Now, come with me," he said, " I must pay thee 
 for thy services." 
 
 She followed him from the sick-chamber to the 
 treasury of the palace. It was a spacious crystal 
 vault, lighted up, like the rest of the palace, from 
 without, but within it was resplendent with trea- 
 sures of all kinds. He led her to a huge heap of 
 shining gold which ran the whole length of the 
 chamber. 
 
 " Here," said he, " take what you w^ill. I put no 
 stint upon you." 
 
 The trembling woman picked up a single piece of 
 the smallest coin she could find upon the heap. 
 
 "This is my fee," she spake. "I ask no more 
 than a fair remuneration for my labour." 
 
 The water spirit's brow blackened like a tempestu- 
 ous night, and he showed his green teeth for a 
 moment as if in great ire, but the feeling, whatever 
 
THE WATER SPIRIT. 29 
 
 it was, appeared to pass away as quickly as it came, 
 and he led her to a huge heap of pearls. 
 
 " Here," he said, " take what you will. Perhaps 
 you like these better 1 They are all pearls of great 
 price, or may be you would wish for some memento 
 of me. Take what you will." 
 
 But she still declined to take anything more, 
 although he tempted her with all his trea- 
 sures. She had not forgotten the advice of her 
 patient. 
 
 " I desire nothing more from you, great prince as 
 you are, than I receive from one of my own condi- 
 tion." This was her uniform answer to his 
 entreaties — 
 
 " I thank you, but I may not take aught beside 
 my due." 
 
 "If," said he, after a short pause, "you had 
 taken more than your due, you would have perished 
 at my hands. And now," proceeded the spirit, 
 "you shall home, but first take this. Fear 
 not." 
 
 As he spake he dipped his hand in the heap of 
 gold and poured forth a handful into her lap. 
 
 " Use that," he continued, " use it without fear. 
 It is my gift. No evil will come of it ; I give you 
 my royal word." 
 
 He beckoned her onward without waiting for her 
 reply, and they were walking once again through 
 the corridors of the palace. 
 
30 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " Adieu ! " he said, waving his hand to her, 
 "adieu!" 
 
 Darkness fell around her in a moment. In a 
 moment more she awoke, as from a dream, in her 
 warm bed. 
 
PETER KLAUS. 
 
 Peter Klaus, a goatherd of Sittendorf, who tended 
 herds on the Kyffhauser mountain, used to let them 
 rest of an evening in a spot surrounded by an old 
 wall, where he always counted them to see if they 
 were all right. For some days he noticed that one 
 of his finest goats, as they came to this spot, 
 vanished, and never returned to the herd till late. 
 He watched him more closely, and at length saw 
 him slip through a rent in the wall. He followed 
 him, and caught him in a cave, feeding sumptuously 
 upon the grains of oats which fell one by one from 
 the roof He looked up, shook his head at the 
 shower of oats, but, with all his care, could discover 
 nothing further. At length he heard overhead the 
 neighing and stamping of some mettlesome horses, 
 and concluded that the oats must have fallen from 
 their mangers. 
 
 While the goatherd stood there, wondering about 
 these horses in a totally uninhabited mountain, a 
 lad came and made signs to him to follow him 
 silently. Peter ascended some steps, and, crossing 
 
 31 
 
32 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 a walled court, came to a glade surrounded by rocky 
 cliffs, into which a sort of twilight made its way 
 through the thick-leaved branches. Here he found 
 twelve grave old knights playing at skittles, at a 
 well-levelled and fresh plot of grass. Peter was 
 silently appointed to set up the ninepins for them. 
 
 At first his knees knocked together as he did 
 this, while he marked, Avith half-stolen glances, the 
 long beards and goodly paunches of the noble 
 knights. By degrees, however, he grew more con- 
 fident, and looked at everything about him with a 
 steady gaze — nay, at last, he ventured so far as to 
 take a draught from a pitcher which stood near 
 him, the fragrance of which appeared to him de- 
 lightful. He felt quite revived by the draught, and 
 as often as he felt at all tired, received new strength 
 from application to the inexhaustible pitcher. But 
 at length sleep overcame him. 
 
 When he awoke, he found himself once more in 
 the enclosed green space, where he was accustomed 
 to leave his goats. He rubbed his eyes, but could 
 discover neither dog nor goats, and stared with sur- 
 prise at the height to which the grass had grown, 
 and at the bushes and trees, which he never remem- 
 bered to have noticed. Shaking his head, he pro- 
 ceeded along the roads and paths which he was 
 accustomed to traverse daily with his herd, but 
 could nowhere see any traces of his goats. Below 
 him he saw Sittendorf ; and at last he descended 
 
PETER KLAUS. 33 
 
 with quickened step, there to make inquiries after 
 his herd. 
 
 The people whom he met at his entrance to the 
 town were unknown to him, and dressed and 
 spoke differently from those whom he had known 
 there. Moreover, they all stared at him when he 
 inquired about his goats, and began stroking their 
 chins. At last, almost involuntarily, he did the 
 same, and found to his great astonishment that his 
 beard had grown to be a foot long. He began now 
 to think himself and the world altogether bewitched, 
 and yet he felt sure that the mountain from which 
 he had descended was the Kyffhauser; and the 
 houses here, with their fore- courts, were all familiar 
 to him. Moreover, several lads whom he heard 
 telling the name of the place to a traveller called it 
 Sittendorf. 
 
 Shaking his head, he proceeded into the town 
 straight to his own house. He found it sadly fallen 
 to decay. Before it lay a strange herd-boy in 
 tattered garments, and near him an old worn-out 
 dog, which growled and showed his teeth at Peter 
 when he called him. He entered by the opening, 
 which had formerly been closed by a door, but 
 found all within so desolate and empty that he 
 staggered out again like a drunkard, and called his 
 wife and children. No one heard ; no voice an- 
 swered him. 
 
 Women and children now began to surround the 
 C 
 
34 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 strange old man, with the long hoary beard, and to 
 contend with one another in inquiring of him what 
 he wanted. He thought it so ridiculous to make 
 inquiries of strangers, before his own house, after 
 his wife and children, and still more so, after him- 
 self, that he mentioned the first neighbour whose 
 name occurred to him, Kirt Stiffen. All were silent, 
 and looked at one another, till an old woman said — 
 
 " He has left here these twelve years. He lives 
 at Sachsenberg ; you '11 hardly get there to-day." 
 
 " Velten Maier ? " 
 
 " God help him ! " said an old crone leaning on a 
 crutch. " He has been confined these fifteen years 
 in the house, which he '11 never leave again." 
 
 He recognised, as he thought, his suddenly aged 
 neighbour ; but he had lost all desire of asking any 
 more questions. At last a brisk young woman, with 
 a boy of a twelvemonth old in her arms, and with a 
 little girl holding her hand, made her way through 
 the gaping crowd, and they looked for all the 
 world like his wife and children. 
 
 " What is your name ? " said Peter, astonished. 
 
 "Maria." 
 
 " And your father 1 " 
 
 " God have mercy on him, Peter Klaus. It is 
 twenty years since we sought him day and night on 
 the Kyflfhauser, when his goats came home without 
 him. I was only seven years old when it hap- 
 pened." 
 
PETER KLAUS. 35 
 
 The goatherd could no longer contain himself. 
 
 " I am Peter Klaus," he cried, " and no other," 
 and he took the babe from his daughter's arms. 
 
 All stood like statues for a minute, till one and 
 then another began to cry — 
 
 " Here 's Peter Klaus come back again ! Welcome, 
 neighbour, welcome, after twenty years; welcome, 
 Peter Klaus!" 
 
THE LEGEND OF RHEINECK. 
 
 Graf Ulric von Eheineck was a very wild youth. 
 
 Recklessly and without consideration did he plunge 
 into every excess. Dissipation grew to be the habit 
 of his life, and no sensual indulgence did he deny 
 himself which could be procured by any means 
 whatever. Amply provided for as he was, the 
 revenues of his wide possessions, which compre- 
 hended Thai Rheineck, and the adjacent country, to 
 the shore of the Rhine, and as far as the mouth of 
 the Aar, were soon discovered to be insufficient for 
 all his absorbing necessities. One by one his broad 
 lands were alienated from him, piece after piece of 
 that noble possession fell from his house, until 
 finally he found himself without a single inch of 
 ground which he could call his own, save the small 
 and unproductive spot on which Rheineck stood. 
 This he had no power to transfer, or perhaps it 
 would have gone with the remainder. The castle 
 had fallen sadly into disrepair, through his pro- 
 tracted absence from home, and his continual 
 neglect of it, — indeed there was scarcely a habitable 
 
 36 
 
THE LEGEND OF KHEINECK. 37 
 
 room within its precincts, and he now had no means 
 to make it the fitting abode of any one, still less 
 of a nobleman of his rank and consequence. All 
 without, as well as all within it, was desolate and 
 dreary to the last degree. The splendid garden, 
 previously the pride of his ancestors, was overrun 
 with weeds, and tangled with parasites and creepers. 
 The stately trees, which once afforded shelter and 
 shade, as well as fruits of the finest quality and 
 rarest kinds, were all dying or withered, or had 
 their growth obstructed by destroying plants. The 
 outer walls were in a ruinous condition, the fortifi- 
 cations were everywhere fallen into decay, and the 
 alcoves and summer-houses had dropped down, or 
 were roofless, and exposed to the weather. It was 
 a cheerless prospect to contemplate, but he could 
 not now help himself, even if he had the will to do 
 so. Day after day the same scene of desolation 
 presented itself to his eyes, night after night did 
 the same cheerless chamber present itself to his 
 view. It was his own doing. That he could not 
 deny, and bitterly he rued it. To crown his help- 
 lessness and misery, his vassals and domestic ser- 
 vants abandoned him by degrees, one after another, 
 and at last he was left entirely alone in the house 
 of his fathers — a hermit in that most dismal of all 
 solitudes, the desolate scene of one's childish, one's 
 happiest recollections. 
 
 One evening about twilight, as he sat at the 
 
38 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 outer gate, looking sadly on the broad, bright river 
 which flowed calmly beneath, he became aware of 
 the presence of a stranger, who seemed to toil 
 wearily up tlie steep acclivity on the summit of 
 which the castle is situated. The stranger — an 
 unusual sight within those walls then — soon reached 
 the spot where Ulric sat, and, greeting the youth in 
 the fashion of the times, prayed him for shelter 
 during the night, and refreshment after his most 
 painful journey. 
 
 *' I am," quoth the stranger, " a poor pilgrim on 
 my way to Cologne, where, by the merits of the 
 three wise kings — to whose shrine I am bound — I 
 hope to succeed in the object of my journey." 
 
 Graf Ulric von Eheineck at once accorded him 
 the hospitality he required, for though he had but 
 scant cheer for himself, and nought of comfort to 
 bestow, he had still some of the feeling of a gentle- 
 man left in him. 
 
 " I am alone here now," said he to the pilgrim, 
 with a deep sigh. "I am myself as poor as Job. 
 Would it were not so ! My menials have left me 
 to provide for themselves, as I can no longer pro- 
 vide for them. 'Twas ever the way of the world, 
 and I blame them not for it. The last departed 
 yesterday. He was^ an old favourite of my father's, 
 and he once thought that he would not leave my 
 service but with his life. We must now look to 
 ourselves, however, — at least so he said. But that 
 
THE LEGEND OF RHEINECK. 39 
 
 has nothing to do with the matter, so enter, my 
 friend." 
 
 They entered. By their joint exertions a simple 
 evening meal was soon made ready, and speedily 
 spread forth on a half-rotten plank, their only table. 
 
 "I have no better to offer you," observed the 
 young Count, "but I offer you what I have with 
 right goodwill. Eat, if you can, and be merry." 
 
 They ate in silence, neither speaking during the 
 meal. 
 
 " Surely," said the pilgrim, when it was over, — 
 " surely it may not be that the extensive cellars of 
 this great castle contain not a single cup of wine 
 for the weary wayfarer." 
 
 The Count was at once struck by the idea. It 
 seemed to him as if he had never thought of it 
 before, though in reality he had ransacked every 
 corner of the cellars more than once. 
 
 "Come, let us go together and try," continued 
 the pilgrim ; " it will go hard with us if we find 
 nought to wash down our homely fare." 
 
 Accompanied by his persuasive guest, the Count 
 descended to the vaults, where the wines of Eheineck 
 had been stored for ages. Dark and dreary did they 
 seem to him. A chill fell on his soul as he strode 
 over the mouldy floor. 
 
 " Here," said the pilgrim, with great glee, — " here, 
 here ! Look ye, my master, look ye ! See ! I have 
 found a cup of the best," 
 
40 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 The Count passed into a narrow cellar whither 
 the pilgrim had preceded him. There stood his 
 companion beside a full butt of burgundy, holding 
 in his hand a massive silver cup, foaming over with 
 the generous beverage, and with the other he 
 pointed exultingly to his prize. The scene seemed 
 like a dream to Ulric. The place was wholly un- 
 known to him. The circumstances were most 
 extraordinary. He mused a moment, but he knew 
 not what to do in the emergency. 
 
 " We will enjoy ourselves here," said the pilgrim. 
 " Here, on this very spot, shall we make us merry ! 
 Ay, here, beside this noble butt of burgundy. See, 
 'tis the best vintage ! Let us be of good cheer ! " 
 
 The Count and his boon companion sat down on 
 two empty casks, and a third served them for a table. 
 They plied the brimming beakers with right good- 
 will; they drank with all their might and main. 
 The Count became communicative, and talked about 
 his private affairs, as men in liquor will. The 
 pilgrim, however, preserved a very discreet silence, 
 only interrupting by an occasional interjection of 
 delight, or an opportune word of encouragement to 
 his garrulous friend. 
 
 " I '11 tell you what," began the pilgrim, when 
 the Count had concluded his tale, — " I '11 tell you 
 what. Listen : I know a way to get you out of 
 your difficulties, to rid you of all your embarrass- 
 ments." 
 
THE LEGEND OF RHEINECK. 41 
 
 The Count looked at him incredulously for a 
 moment ; his eye could not keep itself steady for a 
 longer space of time. There was something in the 
 pilgrim's glance as it met his that greatly dissipated 
 his unbelief, and he inquired of him how these 
 things could be brought about. 
 
 " But, mayhap," continued the pilgrim, apparently 
 disregarding the manifest change in his companion's 
 impressions regarding him, — " mayhap you would be 
 too faint-hearted to follow my advice if I gave it 
 
 you." 
 
 The Count sprang on his feet in a trice, and half- 
 unsheathed his sword to avenge this taunt on his 
 manhood, but the pilgrim looked so unconcerned, 
 and evinced so little emotion at this burst of anger, 
 that the action and its result were merely momentary. 
 Ulric resumed his seat, and the pilgrim proceeded — 
 
 "You tell me that you once heard from your 
 father, who had it from his father, that your great- 
 gi'andfather, in the time when this castle was 
 beleaguered by the Emperor Conrad, buried a vast 
 treasure in some part of it, but which part his 
 sudden death prevented him from communicating to 
 his successor f 
 
 The Count nodded acquiescence. 
 
 " It is even so," he said. 
 
 "In Eastern lands have I learned to discover 
 where concealed treasures are hidden," pursued the 
 pilgrim ; " and " 
 
42 GERMAN FOLKLOllE TALES. 
 
 The Count grasped him by the hand. 
 
 " Find them," he cried, — " find them for me, and 
 a full half is thine ! Oh, there is gold, and there 
 are diamonds and precious stones of all kinds. 
 They are there in abundance. My father said so ! 
 'Tis true, 'tis true ! Find them, find them, and then 
 shall this old hall ring once more with the voice of 
 merriment. Then shall we live ! ay, we shall live ! 
 that we shall." 
 
 The pilgrim did not attempt to interrupt his 
 ecstasies, or to interpose between him and the excess 
 of his glee, but let him excite himself to the highest 
 pitch with pictures of the pleasing future, until they 
 had acquired almost the complexion of fact and the 
 truth of reality for his distracted imagination. 
 When he had exhausted himself, the wily tempter 
 resumed — 
 
 " Oh yes, I know it all. I know where the 
 treasure is. I can put your finger on it if I like. 
 I was present when the old man buried it in 
 the " 
 
 "You present!" exclaimed Ulric, his hair standing 
 on end with horror, for he had no doubts of the 
 truth of the mysterious stranger's statements, — " you 
 present !" 
 
 " Yes," resumed the pilgrim ; " I was present." 
 
 " But he is full a hundred years dead and buried," 
 continued the Count. 
 
 " No matter for that, no matter for that," replied 
 
THE LEGEND OF RHEINECK. 43 
 
 the guest abruptly ; " many and many a time have 
 we drunk and feasted and revelled together in this 
 vault — ay, in this very vault." 
 
 The Count knew not what to think, still less what 
 to reply to this information. He could not fail to 
 perceive its improbability, drunk as he was, but still 
 he could not, for the life of him, discredit it. 
 
 " But," added the pilgrim, " trouble not yourself 
 with that at present which you have not the power 
 to comprehend, and speculate not on my proceedings, 
 but listen to my words, and follow my advice, if you 
 will that I should serve you in the matter." 
 
 The Count was silent when the stranger pro- 
 ceeded. 
 
 "This is Walpurgis night," he said. "All the 
 spirits of earth and sea and sky are now abroad 
 on their way to the Brocken. Hell is broke loose, 
 you know, for its annual orgies on that mountain. 
 When the castle clock tolls twelve go you into the 
 chapel, and proceed to the graves of your grand- 
 father, your great-grandfather, and your great-great- 
 grandfather ; take from their coffins the bones of 
 their skeletons — take them all, mind ye. One by 
 one you must then remove them into the moonlight, 
 outside the walls of the building, and there lay them 
 softly on the bit of green sward which faces to the 
 south. This done, you must next place them in the 
 order in which they lay in their last resting-place. 
 When you have completed that task, you must 
 
44 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 return to the chapel, and in their coffins you will 
 find the treasures of your forefathers. No one has 
 power over an atom of them, until the bones of 
 those who in spirit keep watch and ward over them 
 shall have been removed from their guardianship. 
 So long as they rest on them, or oversee them, to 
 the dead they belong. It is a glorious prize. 'Twill 
 be the making of you, man, for ever !" 
 
 Ulric was shocked at the proposal. To desecrate 
 the graves of his fathers was a deed which made 
 him shudder, and, bad as he was, the thought filled 
 him with the greatest horror, but the temptation 
 was irresistible. 
 
 At the solemn hour of midnight he proceeded to 
 the chapel, accompanied by the pilgrim. He entered 
 the holy place with trembling, for his heart misgave 
 him. The pilgrim stayed without, apparently 
 anxious and uneasy as to the result of the experi- 
 ment about to be made. To all the solicitations of 
 the Count for assistance in his task he turned a deaf 
 ear ; nothing that he could say could induce him to 
 set foot within the chapel walls. 
 
 Ulric opened the graves in the order in which 
 they were situated, beginning with the one first 
 from the door of the chapel. He proceeded to 
 remove the rotting remains from their mouldering 
 coffins. One by one did he bear their bleached 
 bones into the open air, as he had been instructed, 
 and placed them as they had lain in their narrow 
 
THE LEGEND OF RHETNECK. 45 
 
 beds, under the pale moonbeams, on the plot of 
 green sward facing the south, outside the chapel 
 walls. The coffins were all cleared of their tenants, 
 except one which stood next to the altar, at the 
 upper end of the aisle. Ulric approached this also 
 to perform the wretched task he had set himself, the 
 thoughts of the treasure he should become possessed 
 of but faintly sustaining his sinking soul in the fear- 
 ful operation. Removing the lid of this last resting- 
 place of mortality, his heart failed him at the sight 
 he beheld. There lay extended, as if in deep sleep, 
 the corpse of a fair child, fresh and comely, as if it 
 still felt and breathed and had lusty being. The 
 weakness Ulric felt was but momentary. His com- 
 panion called aloud to him to finish his task quickly, 
 or the hour would have passed when his labour 
 would avail him. As he touched the corpse of the 
 infant the body stirred as if it had sensation. He 
 shrank back in horror as the fair boy rose gently in 
 his coffin, and at length stood upright within it. 
 
 "Bring back yon bones," said the phantom babe, — 
 " bring back yon bones ; let them rest in peace in 
 the last home of their fathers. The curse of the 
 dead will be on you otherwise. Back ! back ! bring 
 them back ere it be too late." 
 
 The corpse sank down in the coffin again as it 
 uttered these words, and Ulric saw a skeleton lying 
 in its place. Shuddering, he averted his gaze, and 
 turned it towards the chapel door, where he had left 
 
46 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 his companion. But, horror upon horror ! as he 
 looked he saw the long, loose, dark outer garment 
 fall from the limbs of the pilgrim. He saw his form 
 dilate and expand in height and in breadth, until 
 his head seemed to touch the pale crescent moon, 
 and his bulk shut out from view all beyond itself 
 He saw his eyes firing and flaming like globes of 
 lurid light, and he saw his hair and beard converted 
 into one mass of living flame. The fiend stood 
 revealed in all his hideous deformity. 
 
 His hands were stretched forth to fasten on the 
 hapless Count, who, with vacillating step, like the 
 bird under the eye of the basilisk, involuntarily, 
 though with a perfect consciousness of his awful 
 situation, and the fearful fate which awaited him, 
 every moment drew nearer and nearer to him. The 
 victim reached the chapel door — he felt all the 
 power of that diabolical fascination — another step 
 and he would be in the grasp of the fiend who 
 grinned to clutch him. But the fair boy who spoke 
 from the grave suddenly appeared once more, and, 
 flinging himself between the wretched Count and the 
 door, obstructed his further progress. 
 
 " Avaunt, foul fiend ! " spake the child, and his 
 voice was like a trumpet-note ; " avaunt to hell ! He 
 is no longer thine. Thou hast no power over him. 
 Your hellish plot has failed. He is free, and shall 
 live and repent." 
 
 As he said this he threw his arms around Ulric, 
 
THE LEGEND OF RHEINECK. 47 
 
 and the Count became, as it were, at once surrounded 
 by a beatific halo, which lighted up the chapel like 
 day. The fiend fled howling like a wild beast dis- 
 appointed of its prey. 
 
 The remains of his ancestors were again replaced 
 in their coffins by the Count, long ere the morning 
 broke, and on their desecrated graves he poured 
 forth a flood of repentant tears. With the dawn of 
 day he quitted the castle of Eheineck. It is said that 
 he traversed the land in the garb of a lowly mendi- 
 cant, subsisting on the alms of the charitable, and it 
 is likewise told that he did penance at every holy 
 shrine from Cologne to Rome, whither he was bound 
 to obtain absolution for his sins. Years afterwards 
 he was found dead at the foot of the ancient altar 
 in the ruined chapel. The castle went to ruin, and 
 for centuries nought ever dwelt within its walls save 
 the night-birds and the beasts of prey. 
 
 Of the original structure the ruins of one old tower 
 are all that now remain. It is still firmly believed 
 by the peasants of the neighbourhood, that in the 
 first and the last quarter of the moon the spirit of 
 Ulric, the last of the old lords of Eheineck, still 
 sweeps around the ruin at the hour of midnight, and 
 is occasionally visible to belated wanderers. 
 
TEE CELLAE OF THE OLD KNIGHTS 
 IN THE KYFFHAUSEE. 
 
 There was a poor, but worthy, and withal very 
 merry, fellow at Tilleda, who was once put to the 
 expense of a christening, and, as luck would have 
 it, it was the eighth. According to the custom of 
 the time, he was obliged to give a plain feast to the 
 child's sponsors. The wine of the country which 
 he put before his guests was soon exhausted, and 
 they began to call for more. 
 
 " Go," said the merry father of the newly bap- 
 tized child to his eldest daughter, a handsome girl 
 of sixteen, — " go, and get us better wine than this 
 out of the cellar." 
 
 " Out of what cellar 1 " 
 
 "Why, out of the great wine-cellar of the old 
 Knights in the Kyffhauser, to be sure," said her 
 father jokingly. 
 
 The simple-minded girl did as he told her, and 
 taking a small pitcher in her hand went to the 
 mountain. In the middle of the mountain she 
 found an aged housekeeper, dressed in a very old- 
 
 48 
 
CELLA.R OF OLD KNIC4HTS IN THE KYFFHAUSER. 49 
 
 fashioned style, with a large bundle of keys at her 
 girdle, sitting at the ruined entrance of an immense 
 cellar. The girl was struck dumb with amazement, 
 but the old woman said very kindly — 
 
 " Of a surety you want to draw wine out of the 
 Knights' cellar 1 " 
 
 " Yes," said the girl timidly, " but I have no 
 money." 
 
 " Never mind that," said the old woman ; " come 
 with me, and you shall have wine for nothing, and 
 better wine too than your father ever tasted." 
 
 So the tw^o went together through the half- 
 blocked-up entrance, and as they went along the 
 old woman made the girl tell her how affairs were 
 going on at that time in Tilled a. 
 
 "For once," said she, "when I was young, and 
 good-looking as you are, the Knights stole me away 
 in the night-time, and brought me through a hole 
 in the ground from the very house in Tilleda which 
 now belongs to your father. Shortly before that 
 they had carried away by force from Kelbra, in 
 broad daylight, the four beautiful damsels who 
 occasionally still ride about here on horses richly 
 caparisoned, and then disappear again. As for me, 
 as soon as I grew old, they made me their butler, 
 and I have been so ever since." 
 
 They had now reached the cellar door, which the 
 old woman opened. It was a very large roomy 
 cellar, wdth barrels ranged along both sides. The 
 
 D 
 
50 GEKMAX FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 old woman rapped against the barrels — some were 
 quite full, some were only half full. She took the 
 little pitcher, drew it full of wine, and said — 
 
 " There, take that to your father, and as often as 
 you have a feast in your house you may come here 
 again; but, mind, tell nobody but your father 
 where you get the Avine from. Mind, too, you must 
 never sell any of it — it costs nothing, and for 
 nothing you must give it away. Let any one but 
 come here for wine to make a profit off it and his 
 last bread is baked." 
 
 The girl took the wine to her father, whose 
 guests were highly delighted with it, and sadly 
 puzzled to think where it came from, and ever 
 afterwards, when there was a little merry-making 
 in the house, would the girl fetch wine from the 
 Kyffhauser in her little pitcher. But this state of 
 things did not continue long. The neighbours 
 wondered where so poor a man contrived to get 
 such delicious wine that there was none like it in 
 the whole country round. The father said not a 
 word to any one, and neither did his daughter. 
 
 Opposite to them, however, lived the publican 
 who sold adulterated wine. He had once tasted the 
 Old Knights' wine, and thought to himself that one 
 might mix it with ten times the quantity of water 
 and sell it for a good price after all. Accordingly, 
 when the girl went for the fourth time with her 
 little pitcher to the Kyffhauser, he crept after her, 
 
CELLAR OF OLD KNIGHTS IN THE KYFFHAUSER. 51 
 
 and concealed himself among the bushes, where he 
 watched until he saw her come out of the entrance 
 which led to the cellar, with her pitcher filled with 
 wine. 
 
 On the following evening he himself went to the 
 mountain, pushing before him in a wheelbarrow the 
 largest empty barrel he could procure. This he 
 thought of filling with the choicest wine in the 
 cellar, and in the night rolling it down the moun- 
 tain, and in this way he intended to come every 
 day, as long as there was any wine left in the 
 cellar. 
 
 When, however, he came to the place where he 
 had the day before seen the entrance to the cellar, 
 it grew all of a sudden totally dark. The wind 
 began to howl fearfully, and a monster threw him, 
 his barrow, and empty butt, from one ridge of rocks 
 to another, and he kept falling lower and lower, 
 until at last he fell into a cemetery. 
 
 There he saw before him a coflBn covered with 
 black, and his wife and four of her gossips, whom 
 he knew well by their dress and figures, were 
 following a bier. His fright was so great that he 
 swooned away. 
 
 After some hours he came to himself again, and 
 saw, to his horror, that he was still in the dimly 
 lighted vaults, and heard just above his head the 
 well-known town clock of Tilleda strike twelve, and 
 thereby he knew that it was midnight, and that he 
 
52 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 was then under the church, in the burying-|jlace of 
 the town. He was more dead than alive, and 
 scarcely dared to breathe. 
 
 Presently there came a monk, who led him up a 
 long, long flight of steps, opened a door, placed, 
 without speaking, a piece of gold in his hand, and 
 deposited him at the foot of the mountain. It was 
 a cold frosty night. By degrees the publican 
 recovered himself, and crept, without barrel or 
 wine, back to his own home. The clock struck 
 one as he reached the door. He immediately took 
 to his bed, and in three days was a dead man, and 
 the piece of gold which the wizard monk had given 
 him was expended on his funeral. 
 
THE FISHEEMAN AND HIS WIFE. 
 
 There was once a fisherman who lived with his 
 wife in a ditch close by the seaside. The fisherman 
 used to go out all day long a-fishing, and one day 
 as he sat on the shore with his rod, looking at the 
 shining v.'ater and watching his line, all of sudden 
 his float was dragged away deep under the sea. In 
 drawing it up he pulled a great fish out of the water. 
 The fish said to him — 
 
 " Pray let me live. I am not a real fish. I am 
 an enchanted prince. Put me in the water again 
 and let me go." 
 
 " Oh ! " said the man, " you need not make so 
 many words about the matter. I w4sh to have 
 nothing to do with a fish that can talk, so swim 
 away as soon as you please." 
 
 Then he put him back into the water, and the 
 fish darted straight down to the bottom, and left a 
 long streak of blood behind him. 
 
 When the fisherman went home to his wife in 
 the ditch, he told her how he had caught a great 
 fish, and how it had told him it was an enchanted 
 
 53 
 
54 GEEMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 prince, and that on hearing it speak he had let it 
 go again. 
 
 " Did you not ask it for anything 1 " said the wife. 
 
 " No," said the man ; " what should I ask it for 1 " 
 
 " Ah ! " said the wife, " we live very wretchedly 
 here in this nasty miserable ditch, do go back and 
 tell the fish we want a little cottage." 
 
 The fisherman did not much like the business ; 
 however, he went to the sea, and when lie came 
 there the water looked all yellow and green. He 
 sat at the water's edge and said — 
 
 "O man of the sea, 
 Come Hsten to me, 
 For Alice my wife. 
 The plague of my life, 
 Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee ! " 
 
 Then the fish came swimming to him and said — 
 
 *' Well, what does she want *? " 
 
 " Ah ! " answered the fisherman, " my wife says 
 that when I had caught you, I ought to have asked 
 you for something before I let you go again. She 
 does not like living any longer in the ditch, and 
 wants a little cottage. 
 
 " Go home, then," said the fish ; " she is in the 
 cottage already." 
 
 So the man went home, and saw his wife standing 
 at the door of a cottage. 
 
 " Come in, come in," said she. " Is not this much 
 better than the ditch 1 " 
 
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE. 55 
 
 There was a parlour, a bedchamber, and a kit- 
 chen ; and behind the cottage there was a little 
 garden with all sorts of flowers and friits, and a 
 courtyard full of ducks and chickens. 
 
 "Ah," said the fisherman, "how happily we shall 
 live ! " 
 
 " We will try to do so, at least," said his wife. 
 
 Everything went right for a week or two, and 
 then Dame Alice said — 
 
 " Husband, there is not room enough in this 
 cottage, the courtyard and garden are a great deal 
 too small. I should like to have a large stone castle 
 to live in, so go to the fish again and tell him to 
 give us a castle." 
 
 " Wife," said the fisherman, " I don't like to go 
 to him again, for perhaps he will be angry. We 
 ought to be content with the cottage." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said the wife, " he will do it very 
 willingly. Go along and try." 
 
 The fisherman went, but his heart was very heavy, 
 and when he came to the sea it looked blue and 
 gloomy, though it was quite calm. He went close 
 to it, and said — 
 
 " man of the sea, 
 Come listen to me, 
 For Alice my wife, 
 The plague of my life, 
 Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee ! " 
 
 *' Well, what does she want now 1 " said the fish. 
 
56 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the man very sorrowfully, " my Avife 
 wants to live in a stone castle." 
 
 " Go home, then," said the fish ; " she is standing 
 at the door of it already." 
 
 Away went the fisherman, and found his wife 
 standing before a great castle. 
 
 " See," said she, " is not this grand 1 " 
 
 With that they went into the house together, and 
 found a great many servants there, the rooms all 
 richly furnished, and full of golden chairs and 
 tables ; and behind the castle was a garden, and a 
 wood half a mile long, full of sheep, goats, hares, 
 and deer; and in the courtyard were stables and 
 cow-houses. 
 
 " Well," said the man, " now will we live con- 
 tented and happy for the rest of our lives." 
 
 " Perhaps we may," said the wife, " but let us 
 consider and sleep upon it before we make up our 
 minds;" so they went to bed. 
 
 The next morning when Dame Alice awoke it 
 was broad daylight, and she jogged the fisherman 
 with her elbow, and said — 
 
 "Get up, husband, and bestir yourself, for we 
 must be king of all the land." 
 
 " Wife, wife," said the man, " why should we 
 wish to be king 1 I will not be king." 
 
 " Then I will," said Alice. 
 
 "But, wife," answered the fisherman, "how can 
 you be king 1 The fish cannot make you king." 
 
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE. 57 
 
 " Husband," said she, " say no more about it, but 
 go and try. I will be king." 
 
 So the man went away quite sorrowful, to think 
 that his wife should want to be king. The sea 
 looked a dark grey colour, and was covered with 
 foam, as he called the fish to come and help him. 
 
 "Well, what would she have now^" asked the 
 fish. 
 
 " Alas I " said the man, " my wife wants to be 
 king." 
 
 " Go home," said the fish, " she is king already." 
 
 Then the fisherman went home, and as he came 
 close to the palace he saw a troop of soldiers, and 
 heard the sound of drums and trumpets ; and when 
 he entered, he saw his wife sitting on a high throne 
 of gold and diamonds, with a golden crown upon 
 her head, and on each side of her stood six beautiful 
 maidens. 
 
 " Well, wife," said the fisherman, " are you king ! " 
 
 "Yes," said she, "I am king." 
 
 When he had looked at her for a long time, he 
 said — 
 
 " Ah ! wife, what a fine thing it is to be king ! 
 now we shall never have anything more to wish 
 for." 
 
 "I don't know how that may be," said she. 
 " Never is a long time. I am king, 'tis true ; but I 
 begin to be tired of it, and I think I should like to 
 be emperor." 
 
58 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 "Alas! wife, why should you wish to he em- 
 peror 'i " said the fisherman. 
 
 " Husband," said she, " go to the fish. I say I 
 will be emperor." 
 
 "Ah! wife," replied the fisherman, "the fish 
 cannot make an emperor ; and I should not like to 
 ask for such a thing." 
 
 " I am king," said Alice ; " and you are my slave, 
 so go directly." 
 
 So the fisherman was obliged to go, and he mut- 
 tered as he went along — 
 
 " This will come to no good. It is too much to 
 ask. The fish will be tired at last, and then we 
 shall repent of what we have done." 
 
 He soon arrived at the sea, and the water was 
 quite black and muddy, and a mighty whirlwind 
 blew over it ; but he went to the shore, and repeated 
 the words he had used before. 
 
 "What would she have now 1 " inquired the fish. 
 
 " She wants to be emperor," replied the fisherman. 
 
 "Go home," said the fish, "she is emperor al- 
 ready." 
 
 So he went home again, and as he came near, he 
 saw his wife sitting on a very lofty throne made of 
 solid gold, with a crown on her head, full two yards 
 high ; and on each side of her stood her guards and 
 attendants in a row, ranged according to height, 
 from the tallest giant to a little dwarf, no bigger 
 than one's finger. And before her stood princes, 
 
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE. 59 
 
 and dukes, and earls ; and the fisherman went up 
 to her, and said — 
 
 " Wife, are you emperor 1 " 
 
 " Yes," said she, " I am emperor." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the man, as he gazed on her, " what 
 a fine thing it is to be emperor ! " 
 
 "Husband," said she, "why should we stay at 
 being emperor 1 We will be pope next." 
 
 " wife, wife ! " said he. " How can you be 
 pope 1 There is but one pope at a time in Christen- 
 dom." 
 
 " Husband," said she, " I will be pope this very 
 day." 
 
 " But," replied the husband, " the fish cannot make 
 you pope." 
 
 " What nonsense ! " said she. " If he can make an 
 emperor, he can make a pope ; go and try him." 
 
 So the fisherman went; but when he came to the 
 shore the wind was raging, the sea was tossed up 
 and down like boiling water, and the ships were in 
 the greatest distress and danced upon the waves 
 most fearfully. In the middle of the sky there was 
 a little blue ; but towards the south it was all red, 
 as if a dreadful storm was rising. The fisherman 
 repeated the words, and the fish appeared before 
 him. 
 
 "What does she want novvV asked the fish. 
 
 " My wife wants to be l)ope," said the fisherman. 
 
 " Go home," said the fish ; " she is pope already." 
 
60 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 Then the fisherman went home, and found his 
 wife sitting on a throne, with three crowns on her 
 head, while around stood all the pomp and power 
 of the Church. On each side were two rows of 
 burning lights of all sizes ; the greatest as large as 
 a tower, and the smallest no larger than a rush- 
 light. 
 
 " Well, wife," said the fisherman, as he looked at 
 all this grandeur, " are you pope ? " 
 
 *' Yes," said she ; " I am pope." 
 
 "Well," replied he, "it is a grand thing to be 
 pope ; and now you must be content, for you can be 
 nothing greater." 
 
 " I will consider about that," replied the wife. 
 
 Then they went to bed ; but Dame Alice could 
 not sleep all night for thinking what she should be 
 next. At last morning came, and the sun rose. 
 
 " Ha ! " thought she, as she looked at it through 
 the window, '' cannot I prevent the sun rising 1 " 
 
 At this she was very angry, and wakened her 
 husband, and said — 
 
 " Husband, go to the fish, and tell him I want to 
 be lord of the sun and moon." 
 
 The fisherman was half asleep ; but the thought 
 frightened him so much that he started and fell out 
 of bed. 
 
 " Alas ! wife," said he, " cannot you be content 
 to be pope 1 " 
 
 " No," said she, " I am very uneasy, and cannot 
 
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE. 61 
 
 bear to see the sun and moon rise Avithout my 
 leave. Go to the fish directly." 
 
 Then the man went trembling for fear. As he 
 was going down to the shore a dreadful storm arose, 
 so that the trees and the rocks shook, the heavens 
 became black, the lightning played, the thunder 
 rolled, and the sea was covered with black waves 
 like mountains, with a white crown of foam upon 
 them. The fisherman came to the shore, and said — 
 
 " man of the sea, 
 Come listen to me, 
 For Alice, my wife, 
 The plague of my life. 
 Hath sent me to beg a boon of thee ! " 
 
 " What does she want now ? " asked the fish. 
 
 " Ah ! " said he, " she wants to be lord of the sun 
 and moon." 
 
 " Go home," replied the fish, " to your ditch 
 again." 
 
 And there they live to this very day. 
 
THE MOUSE TOWEE. 
 
 To the traveller who has traversed the delightful 
 environs of the Rhine, from the city of Mentz as far 
 as Coblentz, or from the clear waves of this old 
 Germanic stream gazed upon the grand creations of 
 Nature, all upon so magnificent a scale, the appear- 
 ance of the old decayed tower which forms the 
 subject of the ensuing tradition forms no uninterest- 
 ing object. It rises before him as he mounts the 
 Rhine from the little island below Bingen, toward 
 the left shore. He listens to the old shipmaster as 
 he relates with earnest tone the wonderful story of 
 the tower, and, shuddering at the description of the 
 frightful punishment of priestly pride and cruelty, 
 exclaims in strong emotion — 
 
 " The Lord be with us ! " 
 
 For, as the saying runs, it was about the year of 
 Our Lord 968, when Hatto ii., Duke of the Ostro- 
 franks, surnamed Bonosus, Abbot of Fulda, a man 
 of singular skill and great spiritual endowments, 
 was elected Archbishop of Mentz. He was also a 
 harsh man, and being extremely avaricious, heaped 
 
 62 
 
THE MOL'SE TOWER. 63 
 
 up treasure which he guarded with the utmost 
 care. 
 
 It so happened, under his spiritual sway, that a 
 cruel famine began to prevail in the city of Mentz 
 and its adjacent parts, insomuch that in a short 
 time numbers of the poorer people fell victims to 
 utter want. Crowds of wretches were to be seen 
 assembled before the Archbishop's palace in the act 
 of beseeching with cries and prayers for some miti- 
 gation of their heavy lot. 
 
 But their harsh lord refused to afford relief out 
 of his own substance, reproaching them at the same 
 time as the authors of their own calamity by their 
 indolence and want of economy. But the poor 
 souls were mad for food, and in frightful and 
 threatening accents cried out — 
 
 " Bread, bread ! " 
 
 Fearing the result, Bishop Hatto ordered a vast 
 number of hungry souls to range themselves in order 
 in one of his empty barns under the pretence of 
 supplying them with provisions. Then, having 
 closed the doors, he commanded his minions to fire 
 the place, in which all fell victims to the flames. 
 When he heard the death shouts and shrieks of the 
 unhappy poor, turning towards the menial parasites 
 who abetted his crime he said — 
 
 " Hark you ! how the mice squeak ! " 
 
 But Heaven that witnessed the deed did not 
 permit its vengeance to sleep. A strange and un- 
 
64 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 heard of death was preparing to loose its terrors upon 
 the sacrilegious prelate. For behold, there arose out 
 of the yet warm ashes of the dead an innumerable 
 throng of mice which were seen to approach the 
 Bishop, and to follow him whithersoever he went. 
 At length he flew into one of his steepest and 
 highest towers, but the mice climbed over the walls. 
 He closed every door and window, yet after him 
 they came, piercing their way through the smallest 
 nooks and crannies of the building. They poured 
 in upon him, and covered him from head to foot, in 
 numberless heaps. They bit, they scratched, they 
 tortured his flesh, till they nearly devoured him. 
 So great was the throng that the more his domestics 
 sought to beat them off, the more keen and savagely, 
 with increased numbers, did they return to the 
 charge. Even where his name was found placed 
 upon the walls and tapestries they gnawed it in 
 their rage away. 
 
 In this frightful predicament the Bishop, finding 
 that he could obtain no help on land, bethought of 
 taking himself to the water. A tower was hastily 
 erected upon the Rhine. He took ship and shut 
 himself up there. Enclosed within double walls, 
 and surrounded by water, he flattered himself that 
 the rushing stream would effectually check the rage 
 of his enemies. Here too, however, the vengeance 
 of offended Heaven gave them entrance. Myriads 
 of mice took to the stream, and swam and swam. 
 
THE MOUSE TOWEK. 65 
 
 and though myriads of them were swept away, an 
 innumerable throng still reached the spot. Again 
 they climbed and clattered up the walls. The 
 Bishop heard their approach. It was his last retreat. 
 They rushed in upon him with more irresistible 
 fury than before, and, amidst stifled cries of pro- 
 tracted suffering, Bishop Hatto at length rendered 
 up his cruel and avaricious soul. 
 
THE DANCEES. 
 
 The Sabbath-day drew to a close in the summer- 
 tide of the year of grace one thousand and one, and 
 the rustics of Eamersdorf amused themselves with a 
 dance, as was their wont to do, in the courtyard of 
 the monastery. It was a privilege that they had 
 enjoyed time immemorial, and it had never been 
 gainsaid by the abbots who were dead and gone, 
 but Anselm von Lowenberg, the then superior of the 
 convent, an austere, ascetic man, who looked with 
 disdain and dislike on all popular recreations, had 
 long set his face against it, and had, moreover, tried 
 every means short of actual prohibition to put an 
 end to the profane amusement. The rustics, how- 
 ever, were not to be debarred by his displeasure 
 from pursuing, perhaps, their only pleasure ; and 
 though the pious abbot discountenanced their pro- 
 ceedings, they acquiesced not in his views, and their 
 enjoyment was not one atom the less. 
 
 The day had been very beautiful, and the evening 
 was, if possible, more so. Gaily garbed maidens of 
 the village and stalwart rustics filled the courtyard 
 
THE DANCERS. 67 
 
 of the convent. A blind fiddler, who had fiddled 
 three generations off the stage, sat in front of a 
 group of elders of either sex, who, though too old 
 and too stiff to partake in the active and exciting 
 amusement, were still young enough to enjoy looking 
 on. A few shaven crowns peered from the latticed 
 casements which looked out on to the merry scene. 
 The music struck up, the dance began. Who 
 approaches'? AVhy are so many anxious glances 
 cast in yonder direction ? It is the Abbot. 
 
 "Cease your fooling," he spake to them, in a 
 solemn tone ; " profane not the place nor the day 
 with your idle mirth. Go home, and pray in your 
 own homes for the grace of the Lord to govern ye, 
 for ye are wicked and wilful and hard of heart as 
 the stones ! " 
 
 He waved his hand as if to disperse them, but 
 his words and his action were equally unheeded by 
 the dancers and the spectators. 
 
 " Forth, vile sinners ! " he pursued. " Forth 
 from these walls, or I will curse ye with the curse." 
 
 Still they regarded him not to obey his behest, 
 although they so far noticed his words as to return 
 menacing look for look, and muttered threats for 
 threat with him. The music played on with the 
 same liveliness, the dancers danced as merrily as 
 ever, and the spectators applauded each display of 
 agility. 
 
 " Well, then," spake the Abbot, bursting with 
 
68 GEEMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 rage, " an ye cease not, be my curse on your head — 
 there may ye dance for a year and a day ! " 
 
 He banned them bitterly; with uplifted hands 
 and eyes he imprecated the vengeance of Heaven on 
 their disobedience. He prayed to the Lord to punish 
 them for the slight of his directions. Then he 
 sought his cell to vent his ire in solitude. 
 
 From that hour they continued to dance until a 
 year and a day had fully expired. Night fell, and 
 they ceased not ; day dawned, and they danced still. 
 In the heat of noon, in the cool of the evening, day 
 after day there was no rest for them, their saltation 
 was without end. The seasons rolled over them. 
 Summer gave place to autumn, winter succeeded 
 summer, and spring decked the fields with early 
 flowers, as winter slowly disappeared, yet still they 
 danced on, through coursing time and changing 
 seasons, with unabated strength and unimpaired 
 energy. Eain nor hail, snow nor storm, sunshine 
 nor shade, seemed to affect them. Round and 
 round and round they danced, in heat and cold, in 
 damp and dry, in light and darkness. What were 
 the seasons — what the times or the hour or the 
 weather to them? In vain did their neighbours 
 and friends try to arrest them in their wild evolu- 
 tions ; in vain were attempts made to stop them in 
 their whirling career; in vain did even the Abbot 
 himself interpose to relieve them from the curse 
 he had laid on them, and to put a period to the 
 
THE DANCERS. 69 
 
 punishment of which he had been the cause. The 
 strongest man in the vicinity held out his hand and 
 caught one of them, with the intention of arresting 
 his rotation, and tearing him from the charmed 
 circle, but his arm was torn from him in the attempt, 
 and clung to the dancer with the grip of life till 
 his day was done. The man paid his life as the 
 forfeit of his temerity. No effort was left untried 
 to relieve the dancers, but every one failed. The 
 sufferers themselves, however, appeared quite un- 
 conscious of what was passing. They seemed to be 
 in a state of perfect somnambulism, and to be alto- 
 gether unaware of the presence of any persons, as 
 well as insensible to pain or fatigue. When the 
 expiration of their punishment arrived, they were 
 all found huddled together in the deep cavity which 
 their increasing gyrations had worn in the earth 
 beneath them. It was a considerable time before 
 sense and consciousness returned to them, and 
 indeed they never after could be said to enjoy them 
 completely, for, though they lived long, they were 
 little better than idiots during the remainder of their 
 lives. 
 
THE LITTLE SHEOUD. 
 
 There was once a woman who had a little son of 
 about seven years old, who was so lovely and beauti- 
 ful that no one could look upon him without being 
 kind to him, and he was dearer to her than all the 
 world beside. It happened that he suddenly fell ill 
 and died, and his mother would not be comforted, 
 but wept for him day and night. Shortly after he 
 was buried he showed himself at night in the places 
 where he had been used in his lifetime to sit and 
 play, and if his mother wept, he wept also, and when 
 the morning came he departed. Since his mother 
 never ceased weeping, the child came one night in 
 the little white shroud in which he had been laid in 
 his coflSn, and with the chaplet upon his head, and 
 seating himself at her feet, upon the bed, he 
 cried — 
 
 " mother, mother, give over crying, else I can- 
 not stop in my coffin, for my shroud is never dry 
 because of your tears, for they fall upon it." 
 
 When his mother heard this she was sore afraid, 
 and wept no more. And the babe came upon 
 
 70 
 
THE LITTLE SHROUD. 71 
 
 another night, holding in his hand a little taper, and 
 he said — 
 
 " Look, mother, my shroud is now quite dry, and 
 I can rest in my grave." 
 
 Then she bowed to the will of Providence, and 
 bore her sorrow with silence and patience, and the 
 little child returned not again, but slept in his 
 underground bed. 
 
THE AECH EOGUR 
 
 There once lived, years ago, a man known only by 
 the name of the Arch Eogue. By dint of skill in 
 the black art, and all arts of imposition, he drove a 
 more flourishing trade than all the rest of the sor- 
 cerers of the age. It was his delight to travel from 
 one country to another merely to play upon man- 
 kind, and no living soul was secure, either in house 
 or field, nor could properly call them his own. 
 
 Now his great reputation for these speedy methods 
 of possessing himself of others' property excited the 
 envy of a certain king of a certain country, who 
 considered them as no less than an invasion of his 
 royal prerogative. He could not sleep a wink for 
 thinking about it, and he despatched troops of 
 soldiers, one after another, with strict orders to 
 arrest him, but all their search was in vain. At 
 length, after long meditation, the king said to him- 
 self— 
 
 " Only wait a little, thou villain cutpurse, and yet 
 I will have thee." 
 
 Forthwith he issued a manifesto, stating that the 
 
 72 
 
THE ARCH ROGUE. 73 
 
 royal mercy would be extended to so light-fingered 
 a genius, upon condition that he consented to appear 
 at court and give specimens of his dexterity for his 
 majesty's amusement. 
 
 One afternoon, as the king was standing at his 
 palace window enjoying the fine prospect of woods 
 and dales, over which a tempest appeared to be 
 then just gathering, some one suddenly clapped him 
 upon the shoulder, and on looking round he dis- 
 covered a very tall, stout, dark-whiskered man close 
 behind him, who said — 
 
 '•' Here I am." 
 
 "Who are you?" inquired the king. 
 
 ^ He whom you look for." 
 
 The king uttered an exclamation of surprise, not 
 unmixed with fear, at such amazing assurance. The 
 stranger continued, " Don't be alarmed. Only keep 
 your word with me, and I will prove myself quite 
 obedient to your orders." 
 
 This being agreed on, the king acquainted his 
 royal consort and the whole court that the great 
 sleight-of-hand genius had discovered himself, and 
 soon, in a full assembly, his majesty proceeded to 
 question him, and lay on him his commands. 
 
 " Mark what I say," he said, " nor venture to dis- 
 pute my orders. To begin, do you see yon rustic, 
 not far from the wood, busy ploughing 1" 
 
 The conjurer nodded assent. 
 
 " Then go," continued the king, — " go and rob him 
 
74 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES 
 
 of his plough and oxen without his knowing any- 
 thing about it." 
 
 The king flattered himself that this was impos- 
 sible, for he did not conceive how the conjurer 
 could perform such a task in the face of open day, 
 — and if he fail, thought he, I have him in ray power, 
 and will make him smart. 
 
 The conjurer proceeded to the spot, and as the 
 storm appeared to increase, the rain beginning to 
 pour down in torrents, the countryman, letting his 
 oxen rest, ran under a tree for shelter, until the 
 rain should have ceased. Just then he heard some 
 one singing in the wood. Such a glorious song he 
 had never heard before in all his life. He felt 
 wonderfully enlivened, and, as the weather continued 
 dull, he said to himself — 
 
 " "Well, there 's no harm in taking a look. Yes ; 
 I '11 see what sport is stirring," and away he slipped 
 into the wood, still further and further, in search of 
 the songster. 
 
 In the meanwhile the conjurer was not idle. He 
 changed places with the rustic, taking care of the 
 oxen while their master went searching through the 
 wood. Darting out of the thicket, in a few moments 
 he had slashed off" the oxen's horns and tails, and 
 stuck them, half hid, in the ploughman's last furrow. 
 He then drove off the beasts pretty sharply towards 
 the palace. In a short time the rustic found his 
 way back, and looking towards the spot for his 
 
tHE ARCH ROGUE. 75 
 
 oxen could see nothing of them. Searching on all 
 sides, he came at last to examine the furrow, and 
 beheld, to his horror, the horns and tails of his poor 
 beasts sticking out of the ground. Imagining that 
 a thunderbolt must have struck the beasts, and the 
 earth swallowed them up, he poured forth a most 
 dismal lamentation over his lot, roaring aloud until 
 the woods echoed to the sound. When he was 
 tired of this, he bethought him of running home to 
 find a pick and a spade to dig his unlucky oxen out 
 of the earth as soon as possible. 
 
 As he went he was met by the king and the con- 
 jurer, who inquired the occasion of his piteous 
 lamentation. 
 
 "My oxen ! my poor oxen!" cried the boor, and 
 then he related all that had happened to him, 
 entreating them to go with him to the place. The 
 conjurer said — 
 
 " Why don't you see if you cannot pull the oxen 
 out again by the horns or by the tail 1 " 
 
 With this the rustic, running back, seized one of 
 the tails, and, pulling with all his might, it gave way 
 and he fell backward. 
 
 "Thou hast pulled thy beast's tail off," said the 
 conjurer. " Try if thou canst succeed better with 
 his horns. If not, thou must even dig them out." 
 
 Again the rustic tried with the same result, while 
 the king laughed very heartily at the sight. As the 
 worthy man now appeared excessively troubled at 
 
76 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 his misfortunes, the king promised him another pair 
 of oxen, and the rustic was content. 
 
 " You have made good your boast," said the king 
 to the conjurer, as they returned to the palace ; '' but 
 now you will have to deal with a more difficult 
 matter, so muster your wit and courage. To-night 
 you must steal my favourite charger out of his stable, 
 and let nobody know who does it." 
 
 Now, thought the king, I have trapped him at 
 last, for he will never be able to outwit my master 
 of the horse, and all my grooms to boot. To make 
 the matter sure, he ordered a strong guard under 
 one of his most careful officers to be placed round 
 the stable court. They were armed with stout 
 battle-axes, and were enjoined every half-hour to 
 give the word, and pace alternately through the 
 court. In the royal stables others had the like duty 
 to perform, while the master of the horse himself 
 was to ride the favourite steed the whole time, 
 having been presented by the king with a gold snuff- 
 box, from which he was to take ample pinches in 
 order to keep himself awake, and give signal by a 
 loud sneeze. He was also armed with a heavy 
 sword, with which he was to knock the thief on the 
 head if he approached. 
 
 The rogue first arrayed himself in the master of 
 the bedchamber's clothes, without his leave. About 
 midnight he proceeded to join the guards, furnished 
 with different kinds of wine, and told them that the 
 
THE ARCH ROGUE. 77 
 
 king had sent him to thank them for so cheerfully 
 complying with his orders. He also informed them 
 that the impostor had been already caught and 
 secured, and added that the king had given permis- 
 sion for the guards to have a glass or two, and 
 requested that they would not give the word quite 
 so loudly, as her majesty had not been able to close 
 her eyes. He then marched into the stables, where 
 he found the master of the horse astride the royal 
 charger, busily taking snuff and sneezing at inter- 
 vals. The master of the bedchamber poured him out 
 a sparkling glass to drink to the health of his 
 majesty, who had sent it, and it looked too excellent 
 to resist. Both master and guards then began to 
 jest over the Arch Rogue's fate, taking, like good 
 subjects, repeated draughts — all to his majesty's 
 health. At length they began to experience their 
 effects. They gaped and stretched, sank gradually 
 upon the ground, and fell asleep. The master, by 
 dint of fresh pinches, was the last to yield, but he 
 too blinked, stopped the horse, which he had kept 
 at a walk, and said — 
 
 "I am so confoundedly sleepy I can hold it no 
 longer. Take you care of the charger for a moment. 
 Bind him fast to the stall — and just keep watch." 
 
 Having uttered these words, he fell like a heavy 
 sack upon the floor and snored aloud. The con- 
 jurer took his place upon the horse, gave it whip 
 and spur, and galloped away through the sleeping 
 
78 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 guards, through the court gates, and whistled as he 
 weut. 
 
 Early in the morning the king, eager to learn the 
 result, hastened to his royal mews, and was not a little 
 surprised to find the whole of his guards fast asleep 
 upon the ground, but he saw nothing of his charger. 
 
 " What is to do here 1 " he cried in a loud voice. 
 " Get up ; rouse, you idle varlets ! " 
 
 At last one of them, opening his eyes, cried out — 
 
 "The king! the king!" 
 
 "Ay, true enough, I am here," replied his 
 majesty, "but my favourite horse is not. Speak, 
 answer on the instant." 
 
 AVhile the affrighted wretches, calling one to 
 another, rubbed their heavy eyes, the king was 
 examining the stalls once more, and, stumbling over 
 his master of the horse, turned and gave him some 
 hearty cuffs about the ears. But the master only 
 turned upon the other side, and grumbled — 
 
 "Let me alone, you rascal, my royal master's 
 horse is not for the like of you." 
 
 " Rascal ! " exclaimed the king, " do you know who 
 it is? " and he was just about to call his attendants, 
 when he heard hasty footsteps, and the conjurer 
 stood before him. 
 
 " My liege," he said, " I have just returned from 
 an airing on your noble horse. He is, indeed, a fine 
 animal, but once or so I was obliged to give him the 
 switch." 
 
THE ARCH ROGUE. 79 
 
 The king felt excessively vexed at the rogue's 
 success, but he was the more resolved to hit upon 
 something that should bring his fox skin into 
 jeopardy at last. So he thought, and the next day 
 he addressed the conjurer thus — 
 
 " Thy third trial is now about to take place, and 
 if you are clever enough to carry it through, you 
 shall not only have your life and liberty, but a 
 handsome allowance to boot. In the other case you 
 know your fate. Now listen. This very night I 
 command you to rob my queen consort of her bridal 
 ring, to steal it from her finger, and let no one know 
 the thief or the way of thieving." 
 
 When night approached, his majesty caused all 
 the doors in the palace to be fast closed, and a 
 guard to be set at each. He himself, instead of 
 retiring to rest, took his station, well armed, in an 
 easy chair close to the queen's couch. 
 
 It was a moonlight night, and about two in the 
 morning the king plainly heard a ladder reared up 
 against the window, and the soft step of a man 
 mounting it. When the king thought the conjurer 
 must have reached the top, he called out from the 
 window — 
 
 "Let fall." 
 
 The next moment the ladder was dashed away, 
 and something fell with a terrible crash to the 
 ground. The king uttered an exclamation of alarm, 
 and ran down into the court, telling the queen, who 
 
80 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 was half asleep, tliat he was going to see if the 
 conjurer were dead. But the rogue had borrowed 
 a dead body from the gallows, and having dressed 
 it in his own clothes, had placed it on the ladder. 
 Hardly had the king left the chamber before the 
 conjurer entered it and said to the queen in the 
 king's voice — 
 
 "Yes, he is stone dead, so you may now go 
 quietly to sleep, only hand me here your ring. It 
 is too costly and precious to trust it in bed while 
 you sleep." 
 
 The queen, imagining it was her royal consort, 
 instantly gave him the ring, and in a moment the 
 conjurer was off with it on his finger. Directly 
 afterwards the king came back. 
 
 "At last," he said, "I have indeed carried the 
 joke too far. I have repaid him. He is lying there 
 as dead as a door nail. He will plague us no 
 more." 
 
 " I know that already," replied the queen. " You 
 have told me exactly the same thing twice over." 
 
 "How came you to know anything about if?" 
 inquired his majesty. 
 
 " How ? From yourself to be sure," replied his 
 consort. " You informed me that the conjurer was 
 dead, and then you asked me for my ring." 
 
 " I ask for the ring ! " exclaimed the king. " Then 
 I suppose you must have given it to him," con- 
 tinued his majesty, in a tone of great indignation ; 
 
THE ARCH ROGUE. 81 
 
 ** and is it even so at last 1 By all the saints, this 
 is one of the most confounded, unmanageable knaves 
 in existence. I never knew anything to equal it." 
 
 Then he informed the queen of the whole affair, 
 though before he arrived at the conclusion of his 
 tale she was fast asleep. 
 
 Soon after it was light in the morning the wily 
 conjurer made his appearance. He bowed to the 
 earth three times before the queen and presented 
 her with the treasure he had stolen. The king, 
 though excessively chagrined, could not forbear 
 laughing at the sight. 
 
 " Now hear," said he, " thou king of arch rogues. 
 Had I only caught a sight of you through my 
 fingers as you were coming, you would never have 
 come off so well. As it is, let what is past be for- 
 given and forgotten. Take up your residence at 
 my court, and take care that you do not carry your 
 jokes too far, for in such a case I may find myself 
 compelled to withdraw my favour from you if 
 nothing worse ensue." 
 
 / 9^i^'^ 
 
BROTHEK MERRY. 
 
 In days of yore there was a war, and when it was 
 at an end a great number of the soldiers that had 
 been engaged in it were disbanded. Among the 
 rest Brother Merry received his discharge, and 
 nothing more for all he had done than a very little 
 loaf of soldier's bread, and four halfpence in money. 
 With these possessions he went his way. Now a 
 saint had seated himself in the road, like a poor 
 beggar man, and when Brother Merry came along, 
 he asked him for charity to give him something. 
 Then the soldier said — 
 
 " Dear beggar man, what shall such as I give 
 you 1 I have been a soldier, and have just got my 
 discharge, and with it only a very little loaf 
 and four halfpence. When that is gone I shall 
 have to beg like yourself" 
 
 However, he divided the loaf into four parts, and 
 gave the saint one, with a halfpenny. The saint 
 thanked him, and having gone a little further along 
 the road seated himself like another beggar in the 
 way of the soldier. When Brother Merry came up 
 
 82 
 
BROTHER MERRY. 83 
 
 the saint again asked alms of him, and the old 
 soldier again gave him another quarter of the loaf 
 and another halfpenny. 
 
 The saint thanked him, and seated himself in the 
 way a third time, like another beggar, and again ad- 
 dressed Brother Merry. Brother Merry gave him 
 a third quarter of the loaf, and the third halfpenny. 
 
 The saint thanked him, and Brother Merry jour- 
 neyed on with all he had left — one quarter of the 
 loaf and a single halfpenny. When he came to a 
 tavern, being hungry and thirsty, he went in and 
 ate the bread, and spent the halfpenny in beer to 
 drink with it. When he had finished, he continued 
 his journey, and the saint, in the disguise of a dis- 
 banded soldier, met him again and saluted him. 
 
 " Good day, comrad.e," said he ; " can you give me 
 a morsel of bread, and a halfpenny to get a drop 
 of drink 1 " 
 
 " Where shall I get it 1 " answered Brother 
 Merry. " I got my discharge, and nothing with it 
 but a loaf and four halfpence, and three beggars 
 met me on the road and I gave each of them a 
 quarter of the loaf and a halfpenny. The last 
 quarter I have just eaten at the tavern, and I have 
 spent the last halfpenny in drink. I am quite 
 empty now. If you have nothing, let us go begging 
 together." 
 
 " No, that will not be necessary just now," said 
 the saint. " I understand a little about doctoring, 
 
84 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 and I will in time obtain as much as I need by 
 that." 
 
 " Ha ! " said Brother Merry, " I know nothing 
 about that, so I must go and beg by myself/' 
 
 " Only come along," replied the saint, " and if I 
 can earn anything, you shall go halves." 
 
 " That will suit me excellently," replied Brother 
 Merry. 
 
 So they travelled on together. 
 
 They had not gone a great distance before they 
 came to a cottage in which they heard a great 
 lamenting and screaming. They went in to see 
 what was the matter, and found a man sick to the 
 death, as if about to expire, and his wife crying 
 and weeping loudly. 
 
 "Leave off whining and crying," said the saint. 
 " I will make the man well again quickly enough," 
 and he took a salve out of his pocket and cured the 
 man instantly, so that he could stand up and was 
 quite hearty. Then the man and his wife, in great 
 joy, demanded — 
 
 *' How can we repay you ] What shall we give 
 you 1 " 
 
 The saint would not, however, take anything, 
 and the more the couple pressed him the more 
 firmly he declined. Brother Merry, who had been 
 looking on, came to his side, and, nudging him, said — 
 
 " Take something ; take something. We want it 
 badly enough." 
 
BROTHER MERRY. 85 
 
 At length the peasant brought a lamb, which 
 he desired the saint to accept, but he declined 
 it still. Then Brother Merry jogged his side, and 
 said — 
 
 " Take it, you foolish fellow ; take it. We want 
 it badly enough." 
 
 At last the saint said — 
 
 " Well, I '11 take the lamb, but I shall not carry 
 it. You must carry it." 
 
 " There 's no great hardship in that," cried Brother 
 Merry. " I can easily do it ; " and he took it on 
 his shoulder. 
 
 After that they went on till they came to a 
 wood, and Brother Merry, who was very hungry, 
 and found the lamb a heavy load, called out to 
 the saint — 
 
 " Hallo ! here is a nice place for us to dress and 
 eat the lamb." 
 
 " With all my heart," replied his companion ; 
 " but I don't understand anything of cooking, so do 
 you begin, and I will walk about until it is ready. 
 Don't begin to eat until I return. I will take care 
 to be back in time." 
 
 " Go your ways," said Brother Merry ; " I can 
 cook it well enough. I '11 soon have it ready." 
 
 The saint wandered away, while Brother Merry 
 lighted the fire, killed the lamb, put the pieces 
 into the pot, and boiled them. In a short time the 
 lamb was thoroughly done, but the saint had not 
 
86 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 returned ; so Merry took the meat up, carved it, 
 and found the heart. 
 
 " That is the best part of it," said he ; and he 
 kept tasting it until he had finished it. 
 
 At length the saint came back, and said — 
 
 " I only want the heart. All the rest you may 
 have, only give me that." 
 
 Then Brother Merry took his knife and fork, and 
 turned the lamb about as if he would have found 
 the heart, but of course he could not discover it. 
 At last he said, in a careless manner — 
 
 " It is not here." 
 
 " Not there 1 AVhere should it be, then 1 " said 
 the saint. 
 
 "That I don't know," said Merry; "but now I 
 think of it, what a couple of fools we are to look 
 for the heart of a lamb. A lamb, you know, has 
 not got a heart." 
 
 " What ? " said the saint ; " that 's news, indeed. 
 Why, every beast has a heart, and why should not 
 the lamb have one as well as the rest of them 1 " 
 
 "No, certainly, comrade, a lamb has no heart. 
 Only reflect, and it will occur to you that it really 
 has not." 
 
 " Well," replied his companion, " it is quite suf- 
 ficient. There is no heart there, so I need none of 
 the lamb. You may eat it all." 
 
 " Well, what I cannot eat I '11 put in my knap- 
 sack," said Brother Merry. 
 
BROTHER MERRY. 87 
 
 Then he ate some, and disposed of the rest as he 
 had said. Now, as they continued their journey, 
 the saint contrived that a great stream should flow 
 right across their path, so that they must be 
 obliged to ford it. Then said he — 
 
 " Go you first." 
 
 " No," answered Brother Merry ; " go you first," 
 thinking that if the water were too deep he would 
 stay on the bank where he was. However, the 
 saint waded through, and the water only reached 
 to his knees ; but when Brother Merry ven- 
 tured, the stream seemed suddenly to increase 
 in depth, and he was soon up to his neck in the 
 water. 
 
 *' Help me, comrade," he cried. 
 
 " Will you confess," said the saint, " that you ate 
 the lamb's heart 1 " 
 
 The soldier still denied it, and the water got still 
 deeper, until it reached his mouth. Then the saint 
 said again — 
 
 " Will you confess, then, that you ate the lamb's 
 heart 1 " 
 
 Brother Merry still denied what he had done, 
 and as the saint did not wish to let him drown he 
 helped him out of his danger. 
 
 They journeyed on until they came to a kingdom 
 where they heard that the king's daughter lay 
 dangerously ill. 
 
 " Holloa ! brother/' said the soldier, " here 's a 
 
00 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 catch for us. If we can only cure her we shall be 
 made for ever." 
 
 The saint, however, was not quick enough for 
 Brother Merry. 
 
 " Come, Brother Heart/' said the soldier, " put 
 your best foot forward, so that we may come in at 
 the right time." 
 
 But the saint went still slower, though his com- 
 panion kept pushing and driving him, till at last 
 they heard that the princess was dead. 
 
 " This comes of your creeping so," said the 
 soldier. 
 
 " Now be still," said the saint, " for I can do 
 more than make the sick whole ; I can bring the 
 dead to life again." 
 
 " If that 's true," said Brother Merry, " you must 
 at least earn half the kingdom for us." 
 
 At length they arrived at the king's palace, 
 where everybody was in great trouble, but the saint 
 told the king he would restore his daughter to him. 
 They conducted him to where she lay, and he com- 
 manded them to let him have a caldron of water, 
 and when it had been brought, he ordered all the 
 people to go away, and let nobody remain with him 
 but Brother Merry. Then he divided the limbs of 
 the dead princess, and throwing them into the water, 
 lighted a fire under the caldron, and boiled them. 
 When all the flesh had fallen from the bones, the 
 saint took them, laid them on a table, and placed 
 
BROTHER MERRY. 89 
 
 them together in their natural order. Having done 
 this, he \yalked before them, and said — 
 
 " Arise, thou dead one ! " 
 
 As he repeated these words the third time the 
 princess arose, alive, well, and beautiful. 
 
 The king was greatly rejoiced, and said to the 
 saint — 
 
 " Require for thy reward what thou wilt. 
 Though it should be half my empire, I will give 
 it you." 
 
 But the saint replied — 
 
 " I desire nothing for what I have done." 
 
 " thou Jack Fool ! " thought Brother Merry 
 to himself. Then, nudging his comrade's side, he 
 said — 
 
 *' Don't be so silly. If you won't have anything, 
 yet I need somewhat." 
 
 The saint, however, would take nothing, but as 
 the king saw that his companion would gladly have 
 a gift, he commanded the keeper of his treasures to 
 fill his knapsack with gold, at which Brother Merry 
 was right pleased. 
 
 Again they went upon their way till they came 
 to a wood, when the saint said to his fellow- 
 traveller — 
 
 " Now we will share the gold.'' 
 
 " Yes," replied the soldier, " that we can." 
 
 Then the saint took the gold and divided it into 
 three portions. 
 
90 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " Well/' thought Brother Merry, " what whim 
 has he got in his head now, making three parcels, 
 and only two of us ? " 
 
 " Now," said the saint, " I have divided it fairly, 
 one for me, and one for you, and one for him who 
 ate the heart." 
 
 " Oh, I ate that," said the soldier, quickly taking 
 up the gold. " I did, I assure you." 
 
 " How can that be true 1 " replied the saint. " A 
 lamb has no heart." 
 
 " Ay ! what, brother 1 What are you thinking 
 of? A lamb has no heart"? Very good! When 
 every beast has why should that one be with- 
 out V 
 
 " Now that is very good," said the saint. " Take 
 all the gold yourself, for I shall remain no more 
 with you, but will go my own way alone." 
 
 "As you please. Brother Heart," answered the 
 soldier. " A pleasant journey to you, my hearty." 
 
 The saint took another road, and as he went 
 off— 
 
 " Well," thought the soldier, " it 's all right that 
 he has marched off, for he is an odd fellow." 
 
 Brother Merry had now plenty of money, but he 
 did not know how to use it, so he spent it and gave 
 it away, till in the course of a little time he found 
 himself once more penniless. At last he came into 
 a country where he heard that the king's daughter 
 was dead, 
 
BROTHER MERRY. 91 
 
 " Ah ! " thought he, " that may turn out well. 
 I '11 bring her to life again." 
 
 Then he went to the king and offered his services. 
 Now the king had heard that there was an old 
 soldier who went about restoring the dead to life, 
 and he thought that Brother Merry must be just 
 the man. However, he had not much confidence 
 in him, so he first consulted his council, and they 
 agreed that as the princess was certainly dead, the 
 old soldier might be allowed to see what he could 
 do. Brother Merry commanded them to bring him 
 a caldron of water, and when every one had left 
 the room he separated the limbs, threw them into 
 the caldron, and made a fire under it, exactly as 
 he had seen the saint do. When the water boiled 
 and the flesh fell from the bones, he took them and 
 placed them upon the table, but as he did not know 
 how to arrange them he piled them one upon an- 
 other. Then he stood before them, and said — 
 
 " Thou dead, arise ! " and he cried so three times, 
 but all to no purpose. 
 
 '' Stand up, you vixen ! stand up, or it shall be 
 the worse for you," he cried. 
 
 Scarcely had he repeated these words ere the 
 saint came in at the window, in the likeness of an 
 old soldier, just as before, and said — 
 
 " You impious fellow ! How can the dead stand 
 up when you have thrown the bones thus one upon 
 another?" 
 
92 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " Ah ! Brother Heart," answered Merry, " I have 
 done it as well as I can." 
 
 " I will help you out of your trouble this time," 
 said the saint; "but I tell you this, if you ever 
 again undertake a job of this kind, you will repent 
 it, and for this you shall neither ask for nor take 
 the least thing from the king." 
 
 Having placed the bones in their proper order, 
 the saint said three times — 
 
 " Thou dead, arise ! " and the princess stood up, 
 sound and beautiful as before. Then the saint 
 immediately disappeared again out of the window, 
 and Brother Merry was glad that all had turned out 
 so well. One thing, however, grieved him sorely, and 
 that was that he might take nothing from the king. 
 
 "I should like to know," thought he, *'what 
 Brother Heart had to grumble about. What he 
 gives with one hand he takes with the other. There 
 is no wit in that." 
 
 The king asked Brother Merry what he would 
 have, but the soldier durst not take anything. 
 However, he managed by hints and cunning that the 
 king should fill his knapsack with money, and with 
 that he journeyed on. When he came out of the 
 palace door, however, he found the saint standing 
 there, who said — 
 
 " See what a man you are. Have I not forbidden 
 you to take anything, and yet you have your knap- 
 sack filled with gold 1 " 
 
BROTH KR MERRY. 93 
 
 " How can I help it," answered the soldier, '• if 
 they would thrust it in 1, " 
 
 " I tell you this," said the saint, " mind that you 
 don't undertake such a business a second time. If 
 you do, it will fare badly with you." 
 
 " Ah ! brother," answered the soldier, " never fear. 
 Now I have moi ey, why should I trouble myself 
 with washing boi les 1 " 
 
 "That will no .last a long time," said the saint; 
 " but, in order that you may never tread in a for- 
 bidden path, I will bestow upon your knapsack this 
 power, that whatsoever you wish in it shall be there. 
 Farewell ! you will never see me again." 
 
 "Adieu," said Brother Merry, and thought he, 
 "I am glad you are gone. You are a wonderful 
 fellow. I am willing enough not to follow you." 
 
 He forgot all about the wonderful property 
 bestowed upon his knapsack, and very soon he had 
 spent and squandered his gold as before. When he 
 had but fourpence left, he came to a public-house, 
 and thought that the money must go. So he called 
 for three pennyworth of wine and a pennyworth of 
 bread. As he ate and drank, the flavour of roasting 
 geese tickled his nose, and, peeping and prying 
 about, he saw that the landlord had placed two geese 
 in the oven. Then it occurred to him what his 
 companion had told him about his knapsack, so he 
 determined to put it to the test. Going out, he 
 stood before the door, and said — 
 
94 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " I wish that the two geese which are baking in 
 the oven were in my knapsack." 
 
 When he had said this, he peeped in, and, sure 
 enough, there they were. 
 
 " Ah ! ah ! " said he, " that is all right. I am a 
 made man." 
 
 He went on a little way, took out the geese, and 
 commenced to eat them. As he was thus enjoying 
 himself, there came by two labouring men, who 
 looked with hungry eyes at the one goose which was 
 yet untouched. Brother Merry noticed it, and 
 thought that one goose would be enough for him. 
 So he called the men, gave them the goose, and bade 
 them drink his health. The men thanked him, and 
 going to the public-house, called for wine and bread, 
 took out their present, and commenced to eat. 
 When the hostess saw what they were dining on, 
 she said to her goodman — 
 
 "Those two men are eating a goose. You had 
 better see if it is not one of ours out of the oven." 
 
 The host opened the door, and lo ! the oven was 
 empty. 
 
 " you pack of thieves ! " he shouted. " This 
 IS the way you eat geese, is it ? Pay for them 
 directly, or I will wash you both with green hazel 
 juice." 
 
 The men said — 
 
 " We are not thieves. We met an old soldier on 
 the road, and he made us a j)resent of the goose." 
 
BROTHER MERRY. 95 
 
 " You are not going to hoax me in that way," 
 said the host. " The soldier has been here, but 
 went out of the door like an honest fellow. I 
 took care of that. You are the thieves, and you 
 shall pay for the geese." 
 
 However, as the men had no money to pay 
 him with, he took a stick and beat them out of 
 doors. 
 
 Meanwhile, as Brother Merry journeyed on, he 
 came to a place where there was a noble castle, and 
 not far from it a little public-house. Into this he 
 went, and asked for a night's lodging, but the land- 
 lord said that his house was full of guests, and he 
 could not accommodate him. 
 
 " I wonder," said Brother Merry, " that the people 
 should all come to you, instead of going to that 
 castle." 
 
 " They have good reason for what they do," said 
 the landlord, " for whoever has attempted to spend 
 the night at the castle has never come back to show 
 how he was entertained." 
 
 " If others have attempted it, why shouldn't I ? " 
 said Merry. 
 
 "You had better leave it alone," said the host; 
 "you are only thrusting your head into danger." 
 
 "No fear of danger," said the soldier, " only give 
 me the key and plenty to eat and drink." 
 
 The hostess gave him what he asked for, and he 
 went off to the castle, relished his supper, and when 
 
96 GEKMAN FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 he found himself sleepy, laid himself down on the 
 floor, for there was no bed in the place. He soon 
 went to sleep, but in the night he was awoke by a 
 great noise, and when he aroused himself he dis- 
 covered nine very ugly devils dancing in a circle 
 which they had made around him. 
 
 " Dance as long as you like," said Brother Merry ; 
 " but don't come near me." 
 
 But the devils came drawing nearer and nearer, 
 and at last they almost trod on his face with their 
 misshapen feet. 
 
 " Be quiet," said he, but they behaved still worse. 
 
 At last he got angry, and crying — 
 
 " Holla ! I '11 soon make you quiet," he caught 
 hold of the leg of a stool and struck about 
 him. 
 
 Nine devils against one soldier were, however, 
 too much, and while he laid about lustily on those 
 before him, those behind pulled his hair and pinched 
 him miserably. 
 
 "Ay, ay, you pack of devils, now you are too 
 hard for me," said he ; " but wait a bit. I ^\^ish all 
 the nine devils were in my knapsack," cried he, and 
 it was no sooner said than done. 
 
 There they were. Then Brother Merry buckled 
 it up close, and threw it into a corner, and as all 
 was now still he lay down and slept till morning, 
 when the landlord of the inn and the nobleman to 
 whom the castle belonsjed came to see how it had 
 
BROTHER MERRY. 97 
 
 fared with him. When they saw him sound and 
 lively, they were astonished, and said — 
 
 " Did the ghosts, then, do nothing to you 1 " 
 
 " Why, not exactly," said Merry ; " but I have 
 got them all nine in my knapsack. You may dwell 
 quietly enough in your castle now ; from henceforth 
 they won't trouble you." 
 
 The nobleman thanked him and gave him great 
 rewards, begging him to remain in his service, say- 
 ing that he would take care of him all the days of 
 his life. 
 
 " No," answered he ; "I am used to wander and 
 rove about. I will again set forth." 
 
 He went on until he came to a smithy, into 
 which he went, and laying his knapsack on the 
 anvil, bade the smith and all his men hammer away 
 upon it as hard as they could. They did as they 
 were directed, with their largest hammers and all 
 their might, and the poor devils set up a piteous 
 howling. When the men opened the knapsack 
 there were eight of them dead, but one who had 
 been snug in a fold was still alive, and he slipped 
 out and ran away to his home in a twinkling. 
 
 After this Brother Merry wandered about the world 
 for a long time ; but at last he grew old, and began 
 to think about his latter end, so he went to a hermit 
 who was held to be a very pious man and said — 
 
 " I am tired of roving, and will now endeavour to 
 go to heaven," 
 
 G 
 
98 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " There stand two ways," said the hermit ; "the 
 one, broad and pleasant, leads to hell ; the other 
 is rough and narrow, and that leads to heaven." 
 
 " I must be a fool indeed," thought Brother Merry, 
 " if I go the rough and narrow road ; " so he went the 
 broad and pleasant way till he came at last to a 
 great black door, and that was the door of hell. 
 
 He knocked, and the door-keeper opened it, and 
 when he saw that it was Merry he was sadly 
 frightened, for who should he be but the ninth devil 
 who had been in the knapsack, and he had thought 
 himself lucky, for he had escaped with nothing worse 
 chan a black eye. He bolted the door again directly, 
 and running to the chief of the devils, said — 
 
 " There is a fellow outside with a knapsack on 
 his back, but pray don't let him in, for he can get 
 all hell into his knapsack by wishing it. He once 
 got me a terribl}^ ^^g^y hammering in it." 
 
 So they called out to Brother Merry, and told 
 him that he must go away, for they should not let 
 him in. 
 
 " Well, if they will not have me here," thought 
 Merry, " I '11 e'en tr}^ if I can get a lodging in heaven. 
 Somewhere or other I must rest." 
 
 So he turned about and went on till he came to 
 the door of heaven, and there he knocked. Now 
 the saint who had journeyed with Merry sat at the 
 door, and had charge of the entrance. Brother Merry 
 recognised him, and said — 
 
BROTHER MERRY. 99 
 
 " Are you here, old acquaintance 1 Then things 
 will go better with me." 
 
 The saint replied — 
 
 " I suppose you want to get into heaven 1 " 
 
 " Ay, ay, brother, let me in ; I must put up 
 somewhere." 
 
 " No," said the saint ; " you don't come in here." 
 
 "Well, if you won't let me in, take your dirty 
 knapsack again. I '11 have nothing that can put rne 
 in mind of you," said Merry carelessly. 
 
 " Give it me, then," said the saint. 
 
 Brother Merry handed it through the grating 
 into heaven, and the saint took it and hung it up 
 behind his chair. 
 
 " Now," said Brother Merry, " I wish I was in 
 my own knapsack." 
 
 Instantly he was there ; and thus, being once 
 actually in heaven, the saint was obliged to let him 
 stay there. 
 
FASTEADA. 
 
 By the side of the "Beautiful Doorway," leading 
 into the cloisters of the cathedral at Mainz, stands, 
 worked into the wall, a fragment of the tomb of 
 Fastrada, the fourth wife of the mighty monarch 
 Charlemagne according to some authorities, the 
 third according to others. Fastrada figures in the 
 following tradition related by the author of the 
 Ehyming Chronicle. 
 
 AVhen the Kaiser, Karl, abode at Zurich, he 
 dwelt in a house called " The Hole," in front of 
 which he caused a pillar to be erected with a bell 
 on the top of it, to the end that whoever demanded 
 justice should have the means of announcing him- 
 self. One day, as he sat at dinner in his house, he 
 heard the bell ring, and sent out his servants to 
 bring the claimant before him ; but they could find 
 no one. A second and a third time the bell rang, 
 but no human being was still to be seen. At length 
 the Kaiser himself went forth, and he found a large 
 serpent, which had twined itself round the shaft of 
 the pillar, and was then in the very act of pulling 
 the bell rope. 
 
 100 
 
FASTRADA. 101 
 
 "This is God's will," said the monarch. "Let 
 the brute be brought before me. I may deny justice 
 to none of God's creatures — man or beast." 
 
 The serpent was accordingly ushered into the 
 imperial presence ; and the Kaiser spoke to it as he 
 would to one of his own kind, gravely asking what 
 it required. The reptile made a most courteous 
 reverence to Charlemagne, and signed in its dumb 
 way for him to follow. He did so accordingly, 
 accompanied by his court; and the creature led 
 them on to the water's edge, to the shores of the 
 lake, where it had its nest. Arrived there, the 
 Kaiser soon saw the cause of the serpent's seeking 
 him, for its nest, which was full of eggs, was occu- 
 pied by a hideous toad of monstrous proportions. 
 
 "Let the toad be flung into the fire," said the 
 monarch solemnly, " and let the serpent have 
 possession of its nest restored to it." 
 
 This sentence was carried at once into execution. 
 The toad was burnt, and the serpent placed in pos- 
 session. Charlemagne and his court then returned 
 to the palace. 
 
 Three days afterwards, as the Kaiser again sat at 
 dinner, he was surprised at the appearance of the 
 serpent, which this time glided into the hall un- 
 noticed and unannounced. 
 
 " What does this mean ] " thought the king. 
 
 The reptile approached the table, and raising 
 itself on its tail, dropped from its mouth, into an 
 
102 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 empty plate which stood beside the monarch, a pre- 
 cious diamond. Then, again abasing itself before 
 him, the crawling creature glided out of the hall as 
 it had entered, and was speedily lost to view. This 
 diamond the monarch caused to be set in a costly 
 chased ring of the richest gold ; and he then pre- 
 sented the trinket to his fair wife, the much-be- 
 loved Fastrada. 
 
 Now this stone had the virtue of attraction, and 
 whoso received it from another, so long as they 
 wore it, received also the intensest love of that in- 
 dividual. It was thus with Fastrada, for no sooner 
 did she place the ring on her finger than the at- 
 tachment of Charlemagne, great before, no longer 
 knew any bounds. In fact his love was more like 
 madness than any sane passion. But though this 
 talisman had full power over love, it had no power 
 over death; and the mighty monarch was soon to 
 experience that nothing may avert the fiat of destiny. 
 
 Charlemagne and his beloved bride returned to 
 Germany, and, at Ingelheim palace, Fastrada died. 
 The Kaiser wns inconsolable. He would not listen 
 to the voice of friendship, and he sorrowed in silence 
 over the dead body of his once beautiful bride. 
 Even when decay had commenced, when the re- 
 mains, late so lovely, were now loathsome to look 
 on, he could not be induced to leave the corpse for 
 a moment, or to quit the chamber of death in which 
 it lay. The court were all astounded. They knew 
 
FASTRADA. 103 
 
 not what to make of the matter. At length Turpin, 
 Archbishop of Rheims, approached the corpse, and 
 being made aware of the cause, by some super- 
 natural communication contrived to ensjas-e the 
 emperor's attention while he removed the charm. 
 The magic ring was found by him in the mouth of 
 the dead empress, concealed beneath her tongue. 
 
 Immediately that the talisman was removed the 
 spell was broken, and Charlemagne now looked on 
 the putrid corpse with all the natural horror and 
 loathing of an ordinary man. He gave orders for 
 its immediate interment, which were at once carried 
 into execution, and he then departed from Ingel- 
 lieim for the forest of the Ardennes. Arrived at 
 Aix-la-Chapelle, he took up his abode in the ancient 
 castle of Frankenstein, close by that famous city. 
 The esteem, however, that he had felt for Fastrada 
 was now transferred to the possessor of the ring. 
 Archbishop Turpin ; and the pious ecclesiastic was 
 so persecuted by the emperor's affection that he 
 finally cast the talisman into the lake which sur- 
 rounds the castle. 
 
 An immediate transference of the royal liking 
 took place, and the monarch, thenceforth and for 
 ever after during his lifetime, loved Aix-la-Chapelle 
 as a man might love his wife. So much did he 
 become attached to it, that he directed that he 
 should be buried there ; and there accordingly his 
 remains rest unto this day. 
 
THE JEW IN THE BUSH. 
 
 A FAITHFUL servant had worked hard for his 
 master, a thrifty farmer, for three long years, and 
 had been paid no wages. At last it came into the 
 man's head that he would not go on thus any 
 longer, so he went to his master and said — 
 
 " I have worked hard for you a long time, and 
 without pay, too. I will trust you to give me what 
 I ought to have for my trouble, but something I 
 must have, and then I must take a holiday." 
 
 The farmer was a sad miser, and knew that his 
 man was simple-hearted, so he took out three 
 crowns, and thus gave him a crown for each year's 
 service. The poor fellow thought it was a great 
 deal of money to have, and said to himself — 
 
 "Why should I work hard and live here on 
 bad fare any longer 1 Now that I am rich I 
 can travel into the wide world and make myself 
 merry." 
 
 With that he put the money into his purse, and 
 set out, roaming over hill and valley. As he jogged 
 along over the fields, singing and dancing, a little 
 
 104 
 
THE JEW IN THE BUSH. 105 
 
 dwarf met him, and asked him what made him so 
 merry. 
 
 " Why, what should make me down-hearted 1 " 
 replied he. " I am sound in health and rich in 
 purse ; what should I care for I I have saved up 
 my three years' earnings, and have it all safe in 
 my pocket." 
 
 " How much may it come tof said the mannikin. 
 
 " Three whole crowns," replied the countryman. 
 
 " I wish you would give them to me," said the 
 other. " I am very poor." 
 
 Then the good man pitied him, and gave him all 
 he had ; and the dwarf said — 
 
 " As you have such a kind heart, I will grant you 
 three wishes — one for each crown, — so choose what- 
 ever you like." 
 
 The countryman rejoiced at his luck, and said — 
 
 " I like many things better than money. First, 
 I will have a bow that will bring me down every- 
 thing I shoot at ; secondly, a fiddle that will set 
 every one dancing that hears me play upon it ; and, 
 thirdly, I should like to be able to make every one 
 grant me whatever I ask." 
 
 The dwarf said he should have his three wishes, 
 gave him the bow and the fiddle, and went his way. 
 
 Our honest friend journeyed on his way too, 
 and if he was merry before, he was now ten times 
 more so. He had not gone far before he met an 
 old Jew. Close by them stood a tree, and on the 
 
106 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 topmost twig sat a thrush, singing away most 
 joyfully. 
 
 " Oh what a pretty bird ! " said the Jew. " I 
 would give a great deal of my money to have such 
 a one." 
 
 " If that 's all/' said the countryman, " I will 
 soon bring it down." 
 
 He took up his bow, off went his arrow, and 
 down fell the thrush into a bush that grew at the 
 foot of the tree. The Jew, when he saw that he 
 could have the bird, thought he would cheat the 
 man, so he put his money into his pocket again, 
 and crept into the bush to find the prize. As soon 
 as he had got into the middle, his companion took 
 up his fiddle and played away, and the Jew began 
 to dance and spring about, capering higher and 
 higher in the air. The thorns soon began to tear 
 his clothes, till they all hung in rags about him, 
 and he himself was all scratched and wounded, so 
 that the blood ran down. 
 
 "Oh, for heaven's sake ! " cried the Jew. " Mercy, 
 mercy, master ! Pray stop the fiddle ! AVhat have 
 I done to be treated in this way 1 " 
 
 " What hast thou done ? Why, thou hast shaved 
 many a poor soul close enough," said the other. 
 " Thou art only meeting thy reward ; " and he 
 played up another tune yet merrier than the first. 
 
 Then the Jew began to beg and pray, and at last 
 he said he would give plenty of his money to be set 
 
THE JEW IN THE BUSH. 107 
 
 free. He did not, however, come up to the musician's 
 price for some time, so he danced him along brisker 
 and brisker. The higher the Jew danced, the 
 higher he bid, till at last he offered a round hundred 
 crowns that he had in his purse, and had just 
 gained by cheating some poor fellow. When the 
 countryman saw so much money, he said — 
 
 " I agree to the bargain," and, taking the purse and 
 putting up his fiddle, he travelled on well pleased. 
 
 Meanwhile the Jew crept out of the bush, half 
 naked, and in a piteous plight, and began to ponder 
 how he should take his revenge and serve his late 
 companion some trick. At length he went to a 
 judge, and said that a rascal had robbed him of his 
 money, and beaten him soundly into the bargain, 
 and that this fellow carried a bow at his back, and 
 had a fiddle hanging round his neck. The judge sent 
 out his bailiffs to bring up the man whenever they 
 should find him. The countryman was soon caught, 
 and brought up to be tried. 
 
 The Jew began his tale, and said he had been 
 robbed of his money. 
 
 " Kobbed, indeed ! " said the countryman ; "why, 
 you gave it me for playing you a tune, and teaching 
 you to dance." 
 
 The judge said that was not likely; that the 
 Jew, he was sure, knew better what to do with his 
 money ; and he cut the matter short by sending 
 the countryman off to the gallows. 
 
108 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 Away he was taken, but as he stood at the foot 
 of the ladder, he said — 
 
 " My Lord Judge, may it please your worship to 
 grant me but one boon *? " 
 
 " Anything but thy life," replied the other. 
 
 " No," said he ; "I do not ask my life. Only let 
 me play upon my fiddle for the last time." 
 
 The Jew cried out — 
 
 " Oh, no ! no ! no ! for heaven's sake don't listen 
 to him ! don't listen to him ! " 
 
 But the judge said — 
 
 *' It is only for this once, poor fellow ! He will 
 soon have done." 
 
 The fact was he could not say no, because the 
 dwarfs third gift enabled the countryman to make 
 every one grant whatever he asked. 
 
 Then the Jew said — 
 
 " Bind me fast, bind me fast, for pity's sake ! " 
 
 The countryman seized his fiddle and struck up 
 a merry tune, and at the first note judge, clerks, and 
 jailer were set agoing. All began capering, and no 
 one could hold the Jew. At the second note the 
 hangman let his prisoner go and danced also, and 
 by the time the first bar of the tune was played all 
 were dancing together — ^judge, court, Jew, and all 
 the people who had followed to look on. At first 
 the thing went merrily and joyously enough, but 
 when it had gone on a while, and there seemed to 
 be no end of either playing or dancing, all began to 
 
THE JEW IN THE BUSH. 109 
 
 cry out and beg the countryman to leave off. He 
 stopped, however, not a whit the more for their 
 begging, till the judge not only gave him his life, 
 but paid him back the hundred crowns. 
 
 Then the countryman called the Jew, and said — 
 
 " Tell us now, you rogue, where you got that gold, 
 or I shall play on for your amusement only." 
 
 " I stole it," replied the Jew, before all the people. 
 " I acknowledge that I stole it, and that you earned 
 it fairly." 
 
 Then the countryman stopped his fiddling, and left 
 the Jew to take his place at the gallows. 
 
THE ELVES. 
 
 The happy day at length arrived on which Count 
 Hermann von Rosenberg was married to his beloved 
 Catherine, a princess of the house of Gonzaca. The 
 event was celebrated by a magnificent banquet and 
 festival, and it was late before the Count and Countess 
 could leave their guests. The young Countess was 
 already asleep, and Hermann was sinking into a 
 slumber, when he was aroused by hearing the sounds 
 of soft and gentle music, and, the door of his apart- 
 ment flying open, a joyous bridal procession entered 
 the room. The figures engaged in this extraordinary 
 scene were not more than two or three spans high. 
 The bride and bridegroom were in the centre of the 
 procession, and the musicians preceded it. 
 
 Hermann rose up in bed, and demanded what 
 brought them there, and why they had aroused him, 
 whereupon one of the company stepped up to him, 
 and said — 
 
 " We are attendant spirits of that peaceful class 
 who dwell in the earth. We have dwelt for many 
 years beneath this thy birthplace, and have ever 
 uo 
 
THE ELVES. Ill 
 
 watched over thy dwelling to preserve it from mis- 
 fortune. Already have we taken good care of the 
 ashes of your forefathers that they should not fall 
 into the power of hostile and evil spirits, and as 
 faithful servants we watch over the welfare of your 
 house. Since thou hast this day been married for 
 the continuance of thy name and ancient race, we 
 have represented to you this bridal ceremony, in 
 hopes that you will grant us full permission to keep 
 and celebrate this joyous festival, in return for which 
 we promise to serve you and your house with the 
 greatest readiness." 
 
 " Very well," said Hermann, laughing ; " make 
 yourselves as merry in my castle as you please." 
 
 They thanked him, and took their departure. 
 Hermann could not, however, banish from his mind 
 this remarkable scene, and it was daybreak before 
 he fell asleep. In the morning his thoughts were 
 still occupied with it, yet he never mentioned one 
 word of the occurrence to his wife. 
 
 In the course of time the Countess presented him 
 with a daughter. Scarcely had Hermann received 
 intelligence of this event before a very diminutive old 
 crone entered the apartment and informed him that 
 the elfin bride, whom he had seen in the miniature 
 procession on the night of his nuptials, had given 
 birth to a daughter. Hermann was very friendly 
 to the visitor, wished all happiness to the mother 
 and child, and the old woman took her departure. 
 
112 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 The Count did not, however, mention this visit to 
 his wife. 
 
 A year afterwards, on the approach of her second 
 confinement, the Countess saw the elves on the 
 occasion of her husband receiving another of their 
 unexpected visits. The little people entered the 
 chamber in a long procession in black dresses, 
 carrying lights in their hands, and the little women 
 were clothed in white. One of these stood before 
 the Count holding up her apron, while an old man 
 thus addressed her — 
 
 " No more, dear Hermann, can we find a resting- 
 place in your castle. We must wander abroad. 
 We are come to take our departure from you." 
 
 " Wherefore will you leave my castle ? " inquired 
 Hermann. " Have I offended you ? " 
 
 " No, thou hast not ; but we must go, for she 
 whom you saw as a bride on your wedding-night 
 lost, last evening, her life in giving birth to an heir, 
 who likewise perished. As a proof that we are 
 thankful for the kindness you have always shown 
 us, take a trifling proof of our power." 
 
 When the old man had thus spoken, he placed a 
 little ladder against the bed, which the old woman 
 who had stood by ascended. Then she opened her 
 apron, held it before Hermann, and said — 
 
 " Grasp and take. " 
 
 He hesitated. She repeated what she had said. 
 At last he did what she told him, took out of her 
 
THE ELVES. 113 
 
 apron what he supposed to be a handful of sand, 
 and laid it in a basin which stood upon a table by 
 his bedside. The little woman desired him to take 
 another handful, and he did once more as she bade 
 him. Thereupon the woman descended the ladder ; 
 and the procession, weeping and lamenting, departed 
 from the chamber. 
 
 When day broke, Hermann saw that the supposed 
 sand which he had taken from the apron of the 
 little woman was nothing less than pure and 
 beautiful grains of gold. 
 
 But what happened 1 On that very day he lost 
 his Countess in childbirth, and his new-born son. 
 Hermann mourned her loss so bitterly that he was 
 very soon laid beside her in the grave. With him 
 perished the house of Eosenberg. 
 
THE CONCLAVE OF COEPSES. 
 
 Some three hundred years since, when the convent 
 of Kreutzberg was in its glory, one of the monks 
 who dwelt therein, wishing to ascertain something 
 of the hereafter of those whose bodies lay all un- 
 decayed in the cemetery, visited it alone in the 
 dead of night for the purpose of prosecuting his 
 inquiries on that fearful subject. As he opened the 
 trap-door of the vault a light burst from below ; 
 but deeming it to be only the lamp of the sacristan, 
 the monk drew back and awaited his departure 
 concealed behind the high altar. The sacristan 
 emerged not, however, from the opening; and the 
 monk, tired of waiting, approached, and finally de- 
 scended the rugged steps which led into the dreary 
 depths. No sooner had he set foot on the lower- 
 most stair, than the well-known scene underwent a 
 complete transformation in his eyes. He had long 
 been accustomed to visit the vault, and whenever 
 the sacristan went thither, he was almost sure to be 
 with him. He therefore knew every part of it as 
 well as he did the interior of his own narrow cell, 
 111 
 
THE CONCLAVE OF CORPSES. 115 
 
 and the arrangement of its contents was perfectly 
 familiar to his eyes. What, then, was his horror to 
 perceive that this arrangement, which even but that 
 morning had come under his observation as usual, 
 was altogether altered, and a new and wonderful 
 one substituted in its stead. 
 
 A dim lurid light pervaded the desolate abode of 
 darkness, and it just sufficed to give to his view a 
 sight of the most singular description. 
 
 On each side of him the dead but imperishable 
 bodies of the long-buried brothers of the convent 
 sat erect in their lidless coffins, their cold, starry 
 eyes glaring at him with lifeless rigidity, their 
 withered fingers locked together on their breasts, 
 their stiffened limbs motionless and still. It was a 
 sight to petrify the stoutest heart ; and the monk's 
 quailed before it, though he was a philosopher, and 
 a sceptic to boot. At the upper end of the vault, 
 at a rude table formed of a decayed coffin, or some- 
 thing which once served the same purpose, sat 
 three monks. They were the oldest corses in the 
 charnel-house, for the inquisitive brother knew their 
 faces well : and the cadaverous hue of their cheeks 
 seemed still more cadaverous in the dim light shed 
 upon them, while their hollow eyes gave forth what 
 looked to him like flashes of flame. A large book 
 lay open before one of them, and the others bent 
 over the rotten table as if in intense pain, or in 
 deep and fixed attention. No word was said; no 
 
116 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 sound was heard; the vault was as silent as the 
 grave, its awful tenants still as statues. 
 
 Fain would the curious monk have receded from this 
 horrible place; fain would he have retraced his steps 
 and sought again his cell ; fain would he have shut 
 his eyes to the fearful scene ; but he could not stir 
 from the spot, he felt rooted there ; and though he 
 once succeeded in turning his eyes to the entrance 
 of the vault, to his infinite surprise and dismay he 
 could not discover where it lay, nor perceive any 
 possible means of exit. He stood thus for some time. 
 At length the aged monk at the table beckoned him 
 to advance. With slow tottering steps he made his 
 way to the group, and at length stood in front of 
 the table, while the other monks raised their heads 
 and glanced at him with a fixed, lifeless look that 
 froze the current of his blood. He knew not what 
 to do ; his senses were fast forsaking him ; Heaven 
 seemed to have deserted him for his incredulity. 
 In this moment of doubt and fear he bethought 
 him of a prayer, and as he proceeded he felt himself 
 becoming possessed of a confidence he had before 
 unknown. He looked on the book before him. It 
 was a large volume, bound in black, and clasped 
 -wdth bands of gold, with fastenings of the same 
 metal. It was inscribed at the top of each page 
 
 " Liher ObecUentice." 
 
 He could read no further. He then looked, first 
 in the eyes of him before whom it lay open, and 
 
THE CONCLAVE OF CORPSES. 117 
 
 then in those of his fellows. He finally glanced 
 around the vault on the corpses who filled every 
 visible coffin in its dark and spacious womb. Speech 
 came to him, and resolution to use it. He addressed 
 himself to the awful beings in whose presence he 
 stood, in the words of one having authority with 
 them. 
 
 " Fax vobis," 'twas thus he spake — "Peace be to 
 
 ye." 
 
 " Hie nulla pax" replied an aged monk, in a hol- 
 low, tremulous tone, baring his breast the while — 
 " Here is no peace." 
 
 He pointed to his bosom as he spoke, and the 
 monk, casting his eye upon it, beheld his heart 
 within surrounded by living fire, which seemed to 
 feed on it but not consume it. He turned away in 
 affright, but ceased not to prosecute his inquiries. 
 
 " Pax vobis, in nomine Domini," he spake again — 
 " Peace be to ye, in the name of the Lord." 
 
 '^ Hie non pax" the hollow and heartrending 
 tones of the ancient monk who sat at the right of 
 the table were heard to answer. 
 
 On glancing at the bared bosom of this hapless 
 being also the same sight was exhibited — the 
 heart surrounded by a devouring flame, but still 
 remaining fresh and unconsumed under its opera- 
 tion. Once more the monk turned away and ad- 
 dressed the aged man in the centre. 
 
 " Pax vobis, in nomine Domini," he proceeded. 
 
118 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 At these words the being to whom they were 
 addressed raised his head, put forward his hand, 
 and closing the book with a loud clap, said — 
 
 "Speak on. It is yours to ask, and mine to 
 answer." 
 
 The monk felt reassured, and his courage rose 
 with the occasion. 
 
 " Who are ye ?" he inquired ; " who may ye be ]" 
 
 " We know not ! " was the answer, " alas ! we 
 know not ! " 
 
 " We know not, we know not ! " echoed in melan- 
 choly tones the denizens of the vault. 
 
 " What do ye here 1" pursued the querist. 
 
 "We await the last day, the day of the last 
 judgment ! Alas for us ! woe ! woe ! " 
 
 "Woe ! woe !" resounded on all sides. 
 
 The monk was appalled, but still he proceeded. 
 
 " What did ye to deserve such doom as this 1 
 What may your crime be that deserves such dole 
 and sorrow 1 " 
 
 As he asked the question the earth shook 
 under him, and a crowd of skeletons uprose from 
 a range of graves which yawned suddenly at his 
 feet. 
 
 " These are our victims," answered the old monk. 
 " They suffered at our hands. We suffer now, while 
 they are at peace ; and we shall suffer." 
 
 "For how long'?" asked the monk. 
 
 " For ever and ever ! " was the answer. 
 
THE CONCLAVE OF CORPSES. 119 
 
 " For ever and ever, for ever and ever ! " died along 
 the vault. 
 
 " May God have mercy on us 1 " was all the monk 
 could exclaim. 
 
 The skeletons vanished, the graves closing over 
 them. The aged men disappeared from his view, 
 tha bodies fell back in their coffins, the light fled, 
 and the den of death was once more enveloped in 
 its usual darkness. 
 
 On the monk's revival he found himself lying at 
 the foot of the altar. The grey dawn of a spring 
 morning was visible, and he was fain to retire to his 
 cell as secretly as he could, for fear he should be 
 discovered. 
 
 From thenceforth he eschewed vain philosophy, 
 says the legend, and, devoting his time to the pur- 
 suit of true knowledge, and the extension of the 
 power, greatness, and glory of the Church, died in 
 the odour of sanctity, and was buried in that holy 
 vault, where his body is still visible. 
 
 Requiescat in imce I 
 
LEGENDS OF RUBEZAHL, OR 
 NUMBER-NIP. 
 
 Once upon a time a glazier who was travelling 
 across the mountains, feeling very tired from the 
 heavy load of glass which he was carrying, began to 
 look about to discover a place where he might rest 
 it. Rubezahl, who had been watching for some 
 time, no sooner saw this than he changed himself 
 into a little mound, which the glazier not long after- 
 wards discovered in his way, and on which, well 
 pleased, he proposed to seat himself. But his joy 
 was not of long continuance, for he had not sat 
 there many minutes before the heap vanished from 
 under him so rapidly, that the poor glazier fell to 
 the ground with his glass, which was by the fall 
 smashed into a thousand pieces. 
 
 The poor fellow arose from the ground and 
 looked around him, but the mound of earth on 
 which he had before seated himself was no longer 
 visible. Then he began bitterly to lament, and to 
 sio-h with heartfelt sorrow over his untoward fate. 
 At length he staited once more on his journey. 
 
 120 
 
LEGENDS OF RUBEZAHL, OR NUMBER-NIP. 121 
 
 Upon this Eubezahl, assuming the appearance of a 
 traveller, accosted him, and inquired why he so 
 lamented, and what was the great sorrow with which 
 he was afflicted. The glazier related to him the 
 whole affair, how that, being weary, he had seated 
 himself upon a mound by the wayside, how this had 
 suddenly overthrown him, and broken to pieces his 
 whole stock of glass, which was well worth eight 
 dollars, and how, in short, the mound itself had 
 suddenly disappeared. He declared that he knew 
 not in the least how to recover his loss and bring 
 the business to a good ending. The compassionate 
 mountain sprite comforted him, told him who he 
 was, and that he himself had played him the trick, 
 and at the same time bade him be of good cheer, for 
 his losses should be made good to him. 
 
 Upon this Eubezahl transformed himself into an 
 ass, and directed the glazier to sell him at the mill 
 which lay at the foot of the mountain, and to be 
 sure to make off with the purchase-money as quickly 
 as possible. The glazier accordingly immediately 
 bestrode the transformed mountain sprite, and rode 
 him down the mountain to the mill, where he 
 offered him for sale to the miller at the price of ten 
 dollars. The miller offered nine, and the glazier, 
 without further haggling, took the money and went 
 his way. 
 
 When he was gone the miller sent his newly 
 purchased beast to the stable, and the boy who had 
 
122 GERMAN FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 charge of him immediately filled his rack with hay. 
 Upon this Eubezahl exclaimed — 
 
 "I don't eat hay. 1 eat nothing but roasted and 
 boiled, and that of the best." 
 
 The boy's hair stood on end. He flew to his 
 master, and related to him this wondrous tale, and 
 he no sooner heard it than he hastened to the stable 
 and there found nothing, for his ass and his nine 
 dollars were alike vanished. 
 
 But the miller was rightly served, for he had 
 cheated in his time many poor people, therefore 
 Eubezahl punished in this manner the injustice of 
 which he had been guilty. 
 
 In the year 1512 a man of noble family, who 
 was a very tyrant and oppressor, had commanded 
 one of his vassals or peasants to carry home with his 
 horses and cart an oak of extraordinary magnitude, 
 and threatened to visit him with the heaviest dis- 
 grace and punishment if he neglected to fulfil his 
 desires. The peasant saw that it was impossible 
 for him to execute the command of his lord, and 
 fled to the woods with great sorrow and lamenta- 
 tion. 
 
 There he was accosted by Eubezahl, who appeared 
 to him like a man, and inquired of him the cause 
 of his so great sorrow and affliction. Upon this the 
 peasant related to him all the circumstances of the 
 case. When Eubezahl heard it he bade him be of 
 
LEGENDS OF EUBEZAHL, OR NUMBER-NIP. 123 
 
 good cheer and care not, but go home to his house 
 again, as he himself would soon transport the oak, 
 as his lord required, into his courtyard. 
 
 Scarcely had the peasant got well home again 
 before E-ubezahl took the monstrous oak-tree, with 
 its thick and sturdy boughs, and hurled it into the 
 courtyard of the nobleman, and with its huge stem, 
 and its many thick branches, so choked and blocked 
 up the entrance that no one could get either in or 
 out. And because the oak proved harder than their 
 iron tools, and could in no manner or wise, and 
 with no power which they could apply to it, be 
 hewn or cut in pieces, the nobleman was compelled 
 to break through the walls in another part of the 
 courtyard, and have a new doorway made, which 
 was only done with great labour and expense. 
 
 Once upon a time Eubezahl made, from what 
 materials is not known, a quantity of pigs, which 
 he drove to the neighbouring market and sold to 
 a peasant, with a caution that the purchaser should 
 not drive them through any water. 
 
 Now, what happened 1 Why these same swine 
 having chanced to get sadly covered with mire, what 
 must the peasant do, but drive them to the river, 
 which they had no sooner entered than the pigs 
 suddenly became wisps of straw, and were carried 
 away by the stream. The purchaser was, moreover, 
 obliged to put up with the loss, for he could neither 
 
124 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 find his pigs again, nor could he discover the person 
 from whom he had bought them. 
 
 Rubezahl once betook himself to the Hirschberg, 
 which is in the neighbourhood of his forest haunts, 
 and there offered his services as a woodcutter to one 
 of the townsmen, asking for his remuneration nothing 
 more than a bundle of wood. This the man pro- 
 mised him, accepting his offer, and pointed out some 
 cart-loads, intending to give him some assistance. To 
 this offer of help in his labours Eubezahl replied — 
 
 " No. It is quite unnecessary. All that is to be 
 done I can very well accomplish by myself." 
 
 Upon this his new master made a few further 
 inquiries, asking him what sort of a hatchet he had 
 got, for he had noticed that his supposed servant 
 was without one. 
 
 " Oh," said Eubezahl, " I '11 soon get a hatchet." 
 
 Accordingly he laid hands upon his left leg, and 
 pulled that and his foot and all off at the thigh, and 
 with it cut, as if he had been raving mad, all the 
 wood into small pieces of proper lengths and sizes 
 in about a quarter of an hour, thus proving that a 
 dismembered foot is a thousand times more effectual 
 for such purposes than the sharpest axe. 
 
 In the meanwhile the owner (who saw plainly 
 that mischief was intended) kept calling upon the 
 wondrous woodcutter to desist and go about his 
 business. Eubezahl, however, kept incessantly 
 answering — 
 
LEGENDS OF RUBEZAHL, OR NUMBER-NIP. 125 
 
 "No, I won't stir from this spot until I have 
 hewn the wood as small as I agreed to, and have got 
 my wages for so doing." 
 
 In the midst of such quarrelling Eubezahl finished 
 his job, and screwed his leg on again, for while at 
 work he had been standing on one leg, after the 
 fashion of a stork. Then he gathered together 
 into one bundle all he had cut, placed it on his 
 shoulder, and started off with it towards his favour- 
 ite retreat, heedless of the tears and lamentations of 
 his master. 
 
 On this occasion Eubezahl did not appear in the 
 character of a sportive or mischievous spirit, but as 
 an avenger of injustice, for his employer had induced 
 a number of poor men to bring wood to his home 
 upon the promise of paying them wages, which, 
 however, he had never paid them. Eubezahl laid 
 at the door of each of these poor men as much of 
 the wood he carried away as would repay them, and 
 so the business was brought to a proper termination. 
 
 It once happened that a messenger vexed or 
 played some trick upon Eubezahl, who thereupon 
 revenged himself in the following manner, and so 
 wiped out the score. 
 
 The messenger, in one of his journeys over the 
 mountains, entered an hotel to refresh himself, and 
 placed his spear as usual behind the door. No 
 sooner had he done so than Eubezahl carried off the 
 
126 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 spear, transformed himself into a similar one, and 
 took its place. 
 
 When the messenger, after taking his rest, set 
 forth again with the spear, and had got some little 
 way on his journey, it began slipping about every 
 now and then in such a manner that the messenger 
 began pitching forward into the most intolerable 
 mire, and got himself sadly bespattered. It did this 
 so often that at last he could not tell for the soul of 
 him what had come to the spear, or why he kept 
 slipping forward with it instead of seizing fast hold 
 of the ground. 
 
 He looked at it longways and sideways, from 
 above, from underneath, but in spite of all his 
 attempts, no change could he discover. 
 
 After this insjDection he went forward a little way, 
 when suddenly he was once more plunged into the 
 morass, and commenced crying — 
 
 " Woe is me! woe is me !" at his spear, which led 
 him into such scrapes, and did nothing to release 
 him from them. At length he got himself once 
 more to rights, and then he turned the spear the 
 wrong way upwards. No sooner had he done so 
 than he was driven backwards instead of forwards, 
 and so got into a worse plight than ever. 
 
 After this he laid the spear across his shoulder 
 like a pikeman, since it was no use to trail it upon 
 the earth, and in this fashion he started on. But 
 Rubezahl continued his tricks by pressing on the 
 
LEGENDS OF EUBEZAHL, OK XUMBER-NIP. 127 
 
 messenger as though he had got a yoke on his back. 
 He changed the spear from one shoulder to the 
 other, until at last, from very weariness, he threw 
 away the bewitched weapon, imagining that the 
 Evil One must possess it, and went his way with- 
 out it. 
 
 He had not proceeded above a quarter of a mile, 
 when, looking carelessly about him, he was astounded 
 to find his spear by his side. He was sadly 
 frightened, and little knew what to make of it. At 
 last he boldly ventured to lay hands upon it. He 
 did so, and lifted it up, but he could not conceive 
 how he should carry it. He had no desire to trail 
 it any more on the ground, and the thought of 
 carrying it on his shoulder made him shudder. He 
 decided, however, to give it another trial, carrying 
 it in his hand. Fresh troubles now arose. The 
 spear weighed so heavy that he could not stir it a 
 foot from the spot, and though he tried first one 
 hand and then another, all his efi'orts were in vain. 
 
 At last he bethought him of riding upon the spear, 
 as a child bestrides a stick. A wonderful change 
 now came over the weapon. It ran on as though it 
 had been a fleet horse, and thus mounted the 
 messenger rode on without ceasing until he 
 descended the mountain and came into the city, 
 where he excited the wonder, delight, and laughter 
 of the worthy burghers. 
 
 Although he had endured some trouble in the 
 
128 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 early part of his journey, the messenger thought he 
 had been amply compensated at the close, and he 
 comforted himself by making up his mind that in all 
 future journeys he was destined to perform he would 
 bestride his nimble spear. His good intentions 
 were, however, frustrated. Eubezahl had played his 
 game, and had had all the amusement he desired 
 with the poor knave. Accordingly he scampered 
 away, leaving in his place the real spear, which never 
 played any more tricks, but, after the old fashion of 
 other spears, accompanied its master in a becoming 
 and orderly style. 
 
 A poor woman, who got her living by gathering 
 herbs, once went, accompanied by her two children, 
 to the mountains, carrying with her a basket in 
 which to gather the plants, which she was in the 
 habit of disposing of to the apothecaries. Having 
 chanced to discover a large tract of land covered 
 with such plants as were most esteemed, she busied 
 herself so in filling her basket that she lost her 
 way, and was troubled to find out how to get back 
 to the path from which she had wandered. On a 
 sudden a man dressed like a peasant appeared before 
 her, and said — 
 
 " Well, good woman, what is it you are looking 
 for so anxiously 1 and where do you want to go *? " 
 
 " Alas ! " replied she, " I am a poor woman who 
 has neither bit nor sup, for which reason I am 
 
LEGENDS OF KUBEZAHL, OR NL'MBER-NIP. 129 
 
 obliged to wander to gather herbs, so that I may 
 buy bread for myself and my hungry children. I 
 have lost my way, and cannot find it. I pray you, 
 good man, take pity on me, and lead me out of the 
 thicket into the right path, so that I may make the 
 best of my way home." 
 
 "Well, my good woman," replied Eubezahl, for 
 it was he, " make yourself happy. I will show you 
 the way. But what good are those roots to you 1 
 They will be of little benefit. Throw away this 
 rubbish, and gather from this tree as many leaves 
 as will fill your basket ; you will find them answer 
 your purpose much better." 
 
 " Alas ! " said the woman, " who would give a 
 penny for them ? They are but common leaves, and 
 good for nothing." 
 
 "Be advised, my good woman," said Eubezahl; 
 " throw away those you have got, and follow me." 
 
 He repeated his injunction over and over again 
 in vain, until he got tired, for the woman would 
 not be persuaded. At last, he fairly laid hold of 
 the basket, threw the herbs out by main force, and 
 supplied their place with leaves from the surround' 
 ing bushes. When he had finished, he told the 
 woman to go home, and led her into the right path. 
 
 The woman, with her children and her basket, 
 
 journeyed on some distance ; but they had not gone 
 
 far before she saw some valuable herbs growing by 
 
 the wayside. No sooner did she perceive them 
 
 I 
 
130 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 than she longed to gather them, for she hoped that 
 she should obtain something for them, while the 
 leaves with which her basket was crammed were, 
 she thought, good for nothing. She accordingly- 
 emptied her basket, throwing away the rubbish, as 
 she esteemed it, and having filled it once more with 
 roots, journeyed on to her dwelling at Kirschdorf. 
 
 As soon as she arrived at her home she cleansed 
 the roots she had gathered from the earth which 
 clung around them, tied them neatly together, 
 and emptied everything out of the basket. Upon 
 doing this, something glittering caught her eye, 
 and she commenced to make a careful examination 
 of the basket. She was surprised to discover several 
 ducats sticking to the wickerwork, and these were 
 clearly such of the leaves as remained of those 
 which she had So thoughtlessly thrown away on 
 the mountains. 
 
 She rejoiced at having preserved what she had, 
 but she was again sorely vexed that she had not 
 taken care of all that the mountain spirit had 
 gathered for her. She hastened back to the spot 
 where she had emptied the basket, in hopes of 
 finding some of the leaves there ; but her search 
 was in vain — they had all vanished. 
 
THE HUNTEE HACKELNBEEG AND 
 THE TUT-OSEL. 
 
 The Wild Huntsman, Hackelnberg, traverses the 
 Hartz mountains and the Thuringian forest, but he 
 seems mostly to prefer the Hakel, from which place 
 he derives his name, and especially the neighbour- 
 hood of Dummburg. Ofttimes is he heard at night, 
 in rain and storm, when the moonlight is breaking 
 by fits and starts through the troubled sky, follow- 
 ing with his hounds the shadows of the wild beasts 
 he slew in days of yore. His retinue generally 
 proceed from the Dummburg, straight over the 
 Hakel to the now desolate village of Ammendorf. 
 
 He has only been seen by a few children, who, 
 having been born on a Sunday, had the power of 
 seeing spirits. Sometimes he met them as a lonely 
 huntsman, accompanied by one solitary hound. 
 Sometimes he was seen in a carriage drawn by four 
 horses, and followed by six dogs of the chase. But 
 many have heard the low bellowing of his hounds, 
 and the splashing of his horse's feet in the swamps 
 of the moor; many have heard his cry of "Hu! 
 
 131 
 
132 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 hu ! " and seen his associate and forerunner — the 
 Tut-Osel, or Tooting Ursula. 
 
 Once upon a time three wanderers seated them- 
 selves in the neighbourhood of the Dummburg. 
 The night was already far advanced. The moon 
 gleamed faintly through the chasing clouds. All 
 around was still. Suddenly they heard something 
 rush along over their heads. They looked up, and 
 an immense screech-owl flew before them. 
 
 " Ha ! " cried one of them, " there is the Tut- 
 Osel ! Hackelnberg, the Wild Huntsman, is not 
 far off"." 
 
 " Let us fly," exclaimed the second, " before the 
 spirits overtake us." 
 
 " We cannot fly," said the third ; " but you have 
 nothing to fear if you do not irritate him. Lay 
 yourselves down upon your faces when he passes 
 over us. But, remember, you must not think of 
 addressing Hackelnberg, lest he treat you as he 
 treated the shepherd." 
 
 The wanderers laid themselves under the bushes. 
 Presently they heard around them the rushing by, 
 as it were, of a whole pack of hounds, and high in 
 the air above them they heard a hollow sound like 
 that of a hunted beast of the forest, and ever and 
 anon they trembled at hearing the fearful-toned 
 voice of the Wild Huntsman uttering his well- 
 known " Hu ! hu ! " Two of the wanderers pressed 
 close to the earth, but the third could not resist 
 
HUNTER HACKELNBERG AND THE TUT-OSEL. 133 
 
 his inclination to have a peep at what was going 
 on. He looked up slantingly through the branches, 
 and saw the shadow of a huntsman pass directly 
 over him. 
 
 Suddenly all around was hushed. The wanderers 
 rose slowly and timidly, and looked after Hackeln- 
 berg ; but he had vanished, and did not return. 
 
 " But who is the Tut-Osel 1 " inquired the second 
 wanderer, after a long pause. 
 
 " In a distant nunnery in Thuringia," replied the 
 first, " there once lived a nun named Ursula, who, 
 even during her lifetime, tormented all the sister- 
 hood by her discordant voice, and oftentimes inter- 
 rupted the service of the church, for which reason 
 they called her Tut-Osel, or Tooting Ursula. If 
 matters were bad while she lived, they became far 
 worse when she died. At eleven o'clock every 
 night she now thrust her head through a hole in 
 the convent tower and tooted most miserably, and 
 every morning at about four o'clock she joined un- 
 asked in the matin song. 
 
 " For a few days the sisterhood endured this 
 with a beating heart, and on bended knees ; but on 
 the fourth morning, when she joined in the service, 
 and one of the nuns whispered tremblingly to her 
 neighbour — 
 
 " ' Ha ! it is surely our Tut-Osel ! ' the song 
 ceased, the hair of the nuns stood on end, and they 
 all rushed from the church, exclaiming — 
 
134 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 *''Ha! Tut-Osel! Tut-Osel ! ' 
 
 "Despite the penances and chastisements with 
 which they were threatened, not one of the nuns 
 would enter the church again until the Tut-Osel 
 was banished from the walls of the nunnery. To 
 effect this, one of the most celebrated exorcists of 
 the day, a Capuchin friar, from a cloister on the 
 banks of the Danube, was sent for ; and he suc- 
 ceeded, by prayer and fasting, in banishing Ursel 
 in the shape of a screech-owl to the far-distant 
 Dummburg. 
 
 "Here she met Hackelnberg, the Wild Hunts- 
 man, and found in his wood-cry, * Hu ! hu ! ' as 
 great delight as he did in her ^ U ! hu ! ' So they 
 now always hunt together ; he glad to have a spirit 
 after his own kind, and she rejoiced in the extreme 
 to be no longer compelled to reside within the 
 walls of a cloister, and there listen to the echo of 
 her own song." 
 
 " So much for the Tut-Osel. Now tell us 
 how it fared with the shepherd who spoke to 
 Hackelnberg." 
 
 "Listen to the marvellous adventure," said the 
 third wanderer. "A shepherd once hearing the 
 Wild Huntsman journeying through the forest, en- 
 couraged the spirit hounds, and called out — 
 
 " * Good sport to you, Hackelnberg.' 
 
 " Hackelnberg instantly turned round and roared 
 out to him, in a voice like thunder — 
 
HUNTER HACKELNBERG AND THE TUT-OSEL. 135 
 
 " ' Since you have helped me to set on the hounds, 
 you shall have part of the spoil.' 
 
 "The trembling shepherd tried to hide himself, 
 but Hackelnberg hurled the half-consumed haunch 
 of a horse into the shepherd's cart with such 
 violence that it could scarcely be removed." 
 
THE ALRAUK 
 
 It is a well-known tradition near Magdeburg, that 
 when a man who is a thief by inheritance, — that is 
 to say, whose father and grandfather and great- 
 grandfather before him, three generations of his 
 family, have been thieves; or whose mother has 
 committed a theft, or been possessed with an 
 intense longing to steal something at the time 
 immediately preceding his birth; it is the tradi- 
 tion that if such a man should be hanged, at the 
 foot of the gallows whereon his last breath was 
 exhaled will spring up a plant of hideous form 
 known as the Alraun or Gallows Mannikin. It is 
 an unsightly object to look at, and has broad, dark 
 green leaves, with a single yellow flower. The 
 plant, however, has great power, and whosoever is 
 its possessor never more knows what it is to want 
 money. 
 
 It is a feat full of the greatest danger to obtain 
 it. If not taken up from the root, clean out of the 
 soil, it is altogether valueless, and he who makes the 
 experiment wantonly risks his life. The moment 
 
THE ALRAUK. 137 
 
 the earth is struck with the sj^ade, the bitterest 
 cries and shrieks burst forth from it, and while the 
 roots are beinor laid bare demons are heard to howl 
 in horrid concert. When the preparatory work is 
 done, and when the hand of the daring man is laid 
 on the stem to pluck forth his prize, then is it as it 
 all the fiends of hell were let loose upon him, such 
 shrieking, such howling, such clanging of chains, 
 such crashing of thunder, and such flashing of forked 
 lightning assail him on every side. If his heart 
 fail him but for one moment his life is forfeit. 
 Many a bold heart engaged in this trial has ceased 
 to beat under the fatal tree ; many a brave man's 
 body has been found mangled and torn to pieces on 
 that accursed spot. 
 
 There is, however, happily, only one day in the 
 month, the first Friday, on which this plant appears, 
 and on the night of that day only may it be plucked 
 from its hiding-place. The way it is done is this. 
 Whoso seeks to win it fasts all day. At sundown 
 he sets forth on his fearful adventure, taking with 
 him a coal-black hound, which has not a single fleck 
 of white on its whole body, and which he has com- 
 pelled likewise to fast for four-and- twenty hours 
 previously. At midnight he takes his stand under 
 the gallows, and there stuff's his ears with wool or 
 wax, so that he may hear nothing. As the dread 
 hour arrives, he stoops down and makes three 
 crosses over the Alraun, and then commences to 
 
138 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 dig for the roots in a perfect circle aroand it. 
 When he has laid it entirely bare, so that it only 
 holds to the ground by the points of its roots, he 
 calls the hound to him, and ties the plant to its tail. 
 He then shows the dog some meat, which he flings 
 to a short distance from the spot. Ravenous with 
 hunger, the hound springs after it, dragging the 
 plant up by the root, but before he can reach the 
 tempting morsel he is struck dead as by some 
 invisible hand. 
 
 The adventurer, who all the while stood by the 
 plant to aid in its uprooting should the strength of 
 the animal prove insufficient, then rushes forward, 
 and, detaching it from the body of the dead hound, 
 grasps it firmly in both hands. He then wraps it 
 up carefully in a silken cloth, first, however, wash- 
 ing it well in red wine, and then bears it homeward. 
 The hound is buried in the spot whence the Alraun 
 has been extracted. 
 
 On reaching home the man deposits his treasure 
 in a strong chest, with three locks, and only visits 
 it every first Friday in the month, or, rather, after 
 the new moon. On these occasions he again washes 
 it with red wine, and enfolds it afresh in a clean 
 silken cloth of white and red colours. 
 
 If he has any question to ask, or any request to 
 make, he then puts the one or proffers the other. 
 If he wish to know of things in the future, the 
 Alraun will tell him truly, but he will only get one 
 
THE ALEAUN. 139 
 
 answer in the moon, and nothing else will be done 
 for him by the plant. If he desire to obtain some 
 substantial favour, he has it performed for him on 
 making his request, but then the Alraun will answer 
 no inquiries as to the future until the next day of 
 visitation shall arrive. 
 
 Whoso has this wonder of the world in his pos- 
 session can never take harm from his foes, and 
 never sustain any loss. If he be poor, he at once 
 becomes rich. If his marriage be unblest by off- 
 spring, he at once has children. 
 
 If a piece of gold be laid beside the Alraun at 
 night, it is found to be doubled in the morning, and 
 so on for any sum whatsoever, but never has it been 
 known to be increased more than two pieces for 
 3ach one. 
 
 On the demise of the owner only a youngest son 
 can inherit the Alraun. To inherit it effectually he 
 must place a loaf of white bread and a piece of 
 money in the coffin of his father, to be buried along 
 with his corpse. If he fail to do so, then is the pos- 
 session, like many others of great name in the 
 world, of no value to him. Should, however, the 
 youngest son fail before the father, then the Alraun 
 rightfully belongs to the eldest, but he must also 
 place bread and money in the coffin of his brother, 
 as well as in that of his father, to inherit it to any 
 purpose. 
 
THE GOOSE-GIRL. 
 
 The king of a great land died, and left his queen 
 to take care of their only child. This child was a 
 daughter, who was very beautiful, and her mother 
 loved her dearly and ^vas very kind to her. When 
 she grew up, she was betrothed to a prince who lived 
 a great way off; and as the time drew near for her 
 to be married, she got ready to set off on her journey 
 to his country. The queen, her mother, packed up 
 a great many costly things — ^jewels, gold and silver 
 trinkets, fine dresses, and, in short, everything that 
 became a royal bride. She gave her a waiting-maid 
 to ride with her and give her into the bridegroom's 
 hands, and each had a horse for the journey. The 
 princess' horse was called Falada, and could speak. 
 
 When the time came for them to set out, the 
 aged mother went into the princess's bedchamber, 
 took a knife, and having cut her finger till it bled, 
 let three drops of the blood fall upon a handkerchief, 
 and gave it to the princess, saying — 
 
 " Take care of it, dear child, for it is a charm 
 that may be of use to you on the road." 
 
 140 
 
THE GOOSE-GIRL. 141 
 
 They all took a sorrowful leave of the princess, 
 and she put the handkerchief into her bosom, got 
 upon her horse, and set off on her journey to her 
 bridegroom's kingdom. 
 
 One day as they were riding along by a brook, 
 the princess began to feel very thirsty, and said to 
 her maid — 
 
 " Pray get down, and fetch me some water in my 
 golden cup out of yonder brook, for I want to 
 drink." 
 
 " Nay," said the maid, " if you are thirsty, get off 
 yourself and stoop down by the water and drink. 
 I shall not be your waiting-maid any longer." 
 
 The princess got down, and knelt over the brook 
 and drank, for she was frightened, and dared not 
 bring out her cup; and she wept, and said — 
 
 " Alas ! what will become of me 1 " 
 
 The three drops of blood answered her, and 
 said — 
 
 *' Alas, alas ! if thy mother knew it, 
 Sadly, sadly, would she rue it." 
 
 The princess was very gentle and meek, so she 
 said nothing to her maid's ill-behaviour, but got 
 upon her horse again. 
 
 They all rode further on their journey, till the 
 day grew so warm and the sun so scorching that 
 the bride began to feel very thirsty again; and at 
 last, when they came to a river, she forgot her 
 maid's rude speech, and said — 
 
142 GERMAN FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 "Pray get down, and fetch me some water to 
 drink in my cup." 
 
 But the maid answered her, and even spoke more 
 haughtily than before — 
 
 " Drink if you will, but I shall not be your wait- 
 ing-maid." 
 
 Then the princess got off her horse, and lay down, 
 and held her head over the running stream, and 
 cried and said — 
 
 " What will become of me 1 " 
 
 And the drops of blood answered her again as 
 before. As the princess leaned down to drink, the 
 handkerchief on which was the blood fell from her 
 bosom and floated away on the water, but the 
 princess was so frightened that she did not notice 
 it. Her maid, however, saw it, and was very glad, 
 for she knew the charm, and she saw that the poor 
 bride would be in her power now that she had lost 
 the drops of blood. So when the bride had done 
 drinking, and would have got upon Falada again, 
 the maid said — 
 
 " I will ride upon Falada, and you may have my 
 horse instead ; " so the princess was forced to give 
 up her horse, and soon afterwards to take off her 
 royal clothes and put on her maid's shabby ones. 
 
 At last, as they drew near the end of their journey, 
 this treacherous servant threatened to kill her mis- 
 tress if she ever told any one what had happened ; 
 but Falada saw it all, and marked it well. 
 
THE GOOSE-GIRL. 143 
 
 Then the waiting-maid got upon Falada, while 
 the real bride rode upon the other horse, and 
 they went on in this way until they came at last to 
 the royal court. There was great joy at their 
 coming, and the prince flew to meet them, and 
 lifted the maid from her horse, thinking she was the 
 one who was to be his wife. She was led upstairs 
 to the royal chamber, but the true princess was told 
 to stay in the court below. 
 
 Now the old king happened just then to have 
 nothing else to do, so he was amusing himself by 
 sitting at his window looking at what was going on, 
 and he saw her in the courtyard. As she looked 
 very pretty, and too delicate for a waiting-maid, he 
 went up into the royal chamber to ask the bride who 
 it was she had brouglit with her that was thus left 
 standing in the court below. 
 
 " I brought her with me for the sake of her 
 company on the road," replied she. " Pray give 
 the girl some work to do, that she may not be idle," 
 
 The king could not for some time think of any 
 work for her to do, but at last he said — 
 
 " I have a lad who takes care of my geese, she 
 may go and help him." 
 
 Now the name of this lad, whom the princess was 
 to help in watching the king's geese, was Conrad. 
 
 The false bride said to the prince — 
 
 " Dear husband, pray do me one piece of kindness." 
 
 " That I will," said the prince. 
 
144 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " Then tell one of your knackers to cut off the 
 head of the horse I rode upon, for it was very 
 unruly, and plagued me sadly on the road." 
 
 In reality she was very much afraid lest Falada 
 should some day or other speak, and tell all that 
 she had done to the princess. She carried her point, 
 and the faithful Falada was killed. When the true 
 princess heard of it she wept, and begged the man 
 to nail up Falada's head over a large dark gate of 
 the city, through which she had to pass every 
 morning and evening, that there she might see him 
 sometimes. The slaughterer said he would do as 
 she wished, and he cut off the head, and nailed it up 
 under the dark gate. 
 
 Early the next morning, as the princess and 
 Conrad went through the gate, she said sorrow- 
 fully— 
 
 " Falada, Falada, there thou hangest ! " 
 The head answered — 
 
 " Bride, bride, there thou goest ! 
 Alas, alas ! if thy mother knew it. 
 Sadly, sadly would she rue it," 
 
 Then they went out of the city, and drove the geese 
 on. AVhen they were come to a meadow she sat 
 down upon a bank there, and let down her waving 
 locks of hair, which were like pure gold ; and when 
 Conrad saw it he ran up, and would have pulled 
 some of the locks out, but the princess cried — 
 
THE GOOSE-GIRL. 145 
 
 ** Blow, breezes, blow ! 
 Let Conrad's hat go ! 
 Blow, breezes, blow ! 
 Let him after It go ! 
 O'er hills, dales, and rocks, 
 Away be it whirled, 
 Till my golden locks 
 Are all combed and curled." 
 
 Then there came a wind so strong that it blew 
 off Conrad's hat. Away it flew over the hills, and 
 he was forced to turn and run after it, so that when 
 he came back she had done combing and curling her 
 hair, and had put it up again safely, and he could not 
 get any of it. He was very angry and sulky, and 
 would not speak to her; but they watched the geese 
 until it grew dark, and then drove them homewards. 
 
 The next morning, as they were going through 
 the dark gate, the poor girl looked up at Falada's 
 head, and cried — 
 
 " Falada, Falada, there thou hangest ! " 
 
 It answered — 
 
 " Bride, bride, there thou goest ! 
 Alas, alas ! if thy mother knew it, 
 Sadly, sadly would she rue it." 
 
 Then she drove on the geese, and sat down again 
 in the meadow, and began to comb out her hair as 
 before, and Conrad ran up to her, and wanted to 
 take hold of it. The princess repeated the words 
 she had used the day before, when the wind came 
 and blew away his hat, and off it flew a great way, 
 K 
 
146 GEliMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 over the hills and far away, so that he had to run 
 after it. When he returned, she had bound up her 
 hair again, and all was safe. So they watched the 
 geese until it grew dark. 
 
 In the evening, after they came home, Conrad 
 went to the old king and said — 
 
 *' I won't have that strange girl to help me to 
 keep the geese any longer." 
 
 "Whyf said the king. 
 
 " Because instead of doing any good she does 
 nothing but tease me all day long." 
 
 Then the king made him tell what had happened, 
 and Conrad said — 
 
 "AVhen we go in the morning through the dark 
 gate with our flock of geese, she cries and talks with 
 the head of a horse that hangs upon the wall, and 
 the head answers her." 
 
 And Conrad went on telling the king what had 
 happened in the meadow where the geese fed ; how 
 his hat was blown away, and how he was forced to 
 run after it and leave his flock of geese to them- 
 selves. The old king told the boy to go out again 
 the next day, and when morning came he placed 
 himself behind the dark gate, and heard how the 
 princess spoke to Falada, and how Falada answered. 
 Then he went into the field and hid himself in a 
 bush by the meadow's side, and he soon saw with 
 his own eyes how they drove the flock of geese, and 
 how, after a little time, she let down her hair that 
 
THE GOOSE-GIRL. 147 
 
 glittered in the sun. Then he heard her call the 
 wind, and soon there came a gust that carried away 
 Conrad's hat, and away he went after it, while the 
 girl went on combing and curling her hair. All this 
 the old king saw ; so he went home without having 
 been observed, and when the goose-girl came back in 
 the evening, he called her aside and asked her why 
 she did so. She burst into tears, and said — 
 
 " That I must not tell you nor any man, or I 
 shall lose my life." 
 
 The old king begged hard, but she would tell him 
 nothing. Then he said — 
 
 " If you will not tell me thy story, tell thy grief 
 to the iron stove there," and then he went away. 
 
 Then the princess crept into the stove, and, weep- 
 ing and lamenting, she poured forth her whole 
 heart, saying — 
 
 " I am alone in the whole world, though I am a 
 king's daughter. A treacherous waiting-maid has 
 taken my place and compelled me to put off my 
 royal dress, and even taken my place with my bride- 
 groom, while I have to work as a goose-girl. If 
 my mother knew it, it would break her heart." 
 
 The old king, however, was standing by the stove, 
 listening to what the princess said, and overheard it 
 all. He ordered royal clothes to be put upon her, 
 and gazed at her in wonder, she was so beautiful. 
 Then he called his son, and told him that he had 
 only a false bride, for that she was merely the 
 
148 GERMAN FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 waiting-maid, while the true bride stood by. The 
 young prince rejoiced when he saw the princess's 
 beauty, and heard how meek and patient she had 
 been, and the king ordered a great feast to be got 
 ready for all his court. The bridegroom sat at the 
 top of the table, with the false princess on one side 
 and the true one on the other ; but the waiting-maid 
 did not recognise the princess, for her beauty was 
 quite dazzling. 
 
 When they had eaten and drunk, and were very 
 merry, the old king said he would tell them a tale. 
 So he began, and told all the story of the princess, 
 as if it were a tale he had heard, and he asked the 
 waiting- woman what she thought ought to be done 
 to any one who behaved so badly as the servant in 
 the story. 
 
 " Nothing better," said the false bride, " than that 
 she should be thrown into a cask stuck round with 
 sharp nails, and that two white horses should be 
 put to it, and should drag it from street to street 
 till she were dead." 
 
 " Thou art she," said the old king, " and as thou 
 hast judged thyself, so it shall be done to thee." 
 
 Then the young prince was married to his true 
 wife, and they reigned over the kingdom in peace 
 and happiness all their lives. 
 
HANS JAGENTEUFEL 
 
 It is commonly believed that if any person 
 is guilty of a crime for which he deserves to 
 lose his head, he will, if he escape punishment 
 during his lifetime, be condemned after his 
 death to wander about with his head under his 
 arm. 
 
 In the year 1644 a woman of Dresden went out 
 early one Sunday morning into a neighbouring 
 wood for the purpose of collecting acorns. In an 
 open space, at a spot not very far from the place 
 which is called the Lost Water, she heard some- 
 body blow a very strong blast upon a hunting- 
 horn, and immediately afterwards a heavy fall 
 succeeded, as though a large tree had fallen to the 
 ground. The woman was greatly alarmed, and 
 concealed her little bag of acorns among the 
 grass. Shortly afterwards the horn was blown a 
 second time, and on looking round she saw a man 
 without a head, dressed in a long grey cloak, 
 and riding upon a grey horse. He was booted 
 
 149 
 
150 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 and spurred, and had a bugle-horn hanging at his 
 back. 
 
 As he rode past her very quietly she regained 
 her courage, went on gathering the acorns, and 
 when evening came returned home undisturbed. 
 
 Nine days afterwards, the woman returned to 
 that spot for the purpose of again collecting the 
 acorns, and as she sat down by the Forsterberg, 
 peeling an apple, she heard behind her a voice 
 calling out to her — 
 
 " Have you taken a whole sack of acorns and 
 nobody tried to punish you for doing so 1 " 
 
 '• No," said she. " The foresters are very kind 
 to the poor, and they have done nothing to me — 
 the Lord have mercy on my sins ! " 
 
 With these words she turned about, and there 
 stood he of the grey cloak, but this time he was 
 without his horse, and carried his head, which 
 was covered with curling brown hair, under his 
 arm. 
 
 The woman shrank from him in alarm, but the 
 spirit said — 
 
 " Ye do well to pray to God to forgive you your 
 sins, it was never my good lot to do so." 
 
 Thereupon he related to her how that he had 
 lived about one hundred and thirty years before, 
 and was called Hans Jagenteufel, as his father had 
 been before him, and how his father had often 
 besought him not to be too hard upon poor people, 
 
HANS JAGENTEUFEL. 151 
 
 how he had paid no regard to the advice his father 
 had given him, but had passed his time in drinking 
 and carousing, and in all manner of wickedness, for 
 whicli he was now condemned to wander about the 
 world as an evil spirit. 
 
THE WAITS OF BREMEN. 
 
 An honest farmer had once an ass that had been a 
 faithful hard-working slave to him for a great many 
 years, but was now growing old, and every day 
 more and more unfit for work. His master there- 
 fore was tired of keeping him to live at ease like a 
 gentleman, and so began to think of putting an end 
 to him. The ass, who was a shrewd hand, saw that 
 some mischief was in the wind, so he took himself 
 slily off, and began his journey towards Bremen. 
 
 "There," thought he to himself, "as I have a 
 good voice, I may chance to be chosen town 
 musician." 
 
 After he had travelled a little way, he spied a dog 
 lying by the roadside, and panting as if very tired. 
 
 " What makes you pant so, my friend "i " said the 
 ass. 
 
 " Alas ! " said the dog, " my master was going to 
 knock me on the head, because I am old and weak, 
 and can no longer make myself useful to him in 
 hunting, so I ran away. But what can I do to 
 earn my livelihood 1 " 
 
 152 
 
THE WAITS OF BREMEN. 153 
 
 " Hark ye," said the ass, " I am going to Bremen 
 to turn musician. Come with me, and try what 
 you can do in the same way." 
 
 The dog said he was willing, and on they went. 
 
 They had not gone far before they saw a cat 
 sitting in the middle of the road, with tears in her 
 eyes, and making a most rueful face. 
 
 "Pray, my good lady," said the ass, "what's 
 the matter with you ? You look quite out of 
 spirits." 
 
 "Ah, me! " said the cat. "How can a body be 
 in good spirits when one's life is in danger? Be- 
 cause I am beginning to grow old, and had rather 
 lie at my ease before the fire than run about the 
 house after the mice, my mistress laid hold of me, 
 and was going to drown me, and though I have 
 been lucky enough to get away from her, I know 
 not how I am to live." 
 
 " Oh ! " said the ass, " by all means go with us to 
 Bremen. You are a good night-singer, and may 
 make your fortune as one of the waits." 
 
 The cat was pleased with the thought, and joined 
 the party. Soon afterwards, as they were passing 
 by a farmyard, they saw a cock perched upon a gate, 
 screaming out with all his might and main. 
 
 " Bravo ! " said the ass. " Upon my word, you 
 make a famous noise. Pray, what is all this about?" 
 
 " Why," said the cock, "' I was just now telling 
 all our neighbours that we were to have fine weather 
 
154 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 fur our washing-day ; and yet my mistress and the 
 cook don't thank me for my pains, but threaten to 
 cut my head off to-morrow, and make broth of me 
 for the guests that are coming on Sunday." 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " said the ass. " Come with us. 
 Anything will be better than staying here. Besides, 
 who knows, if we take care to sing in tune, we may 
 get up a concert of our own, so come along with us." 
 
 " AVith all my heart," replied the cock ; so they 
 all four went on jollily together towards Bremen. 
 
 They could not, however, reach the town the first 
 day, so when night came on they turned off the 
 high-road into a wood to sleep. The ass and the 
 dog laid themselves down under a great tree, and 
 the cat climbed up into the branches; while the 
 cock, thinking that the higher he sat the safer he 
 should be, flew up to the very top of the tree, and 
 then, according to his custom, before he sounded his 
 trumpet and went to sleep, looked out on all sides 
 to see that everything was well. In doing this he 
 saw afar oS something bright, and calling to his 
 companions, said — 
 
 " There must be a house no great way off, for I 
 see a light." 
 
 " If that be the case," replied the ass, " we had 
 better change our quarters, for our lodging here is 
 not the best in the world." 
 
 " Besides," said the dog, " I should not be the 
 worse for a bone or two." 
 
THE WAITS OF BREMEN. 155 
 
 " And may be," remarked the cat, " a stray mouse 
 will be found somewhere about the premises." 
 
 So they walked off together towards the spot 
 where the cock had seen the light ; and as they 
 drew near, it became larger and brighter, till they 
 came at last to a lonely house, in which was a gang 
 of robbers. 
 
 The ass, being the tallest of the company, marched 
 up to the window and peeped in. 
 
 " Well," said the cock, " what do you see 1 " 
 
 ^' What do I see *? " replied the ass. " Why, I see 
 a table spread with all kinds of good things, and 
 robbers sitting round it making merry." 
 
 " That would be a noble lodging for us," said the 
 cock. 
 
 "Yes," rejoined the ass, "if we could only get 
 in." 
 
 They laid their heads together to see how they 
 could get the robbers out, and at last they hit upon 
 a plan. The ass set himself upright on his hind- 
 legs, with his fore-feet resting on the window ; the 
 dog got upon his back ; the cat scrambled up to the 
 dog's shoulders, and the cock flew up and sat upon 
 the cat. When all were ready the cock gave the 
 signal, and up struck the Avhole band of music. The 
 ass brayed, the dog barked, the cat mewed, and the 
 cock crew. Then they all broke through the window 
 at once, and came tumbling into the room amongst 
 the broken glass, with a hideous clatter. The rob- 
 
156 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 bers, who had been not a little frightened by the 
 opening concert, had now no doubt that some 
 frightful hobgoblins had broken in upon them, and 
 scampered away as fast as they could. 
 
 The coast once clear, the travellers soon sat down 
 and despatched what the robbers had left, with as 
 much eagerness as if they had not hoped to eat 
 again for a month. As soon as they had had 
 enough they put out the lights, and each once 
 more sought out a resting-place to his liking. The 
 donkey laid himself down upon a heap of straw in 
 the yard ; the dog stretched himself upon a mat 
 behind the door ; the cat rolled herself up on the 
 hearth before the warm ashes ; the cock perched 
 upon a beam on the top of the house ; and as all 
 were rather tired with their journey, they soon fell 
 fast asleep. 
 
 About midnight, however, when the robbers saw 
 from afar that the lights were out and that all was 
 quiet, they began to think that they had been in 
 too great a hurry to run away ; and one of them, 
 who was bolder than the rest, went to see what was 
 going on. Finding everything still, he marched 
 into the kitchen, and groped about till he found a 
 match in order to light a candle. Espying the 
 glittering fiery eyes of the cat, he mistook them for 
 live coals, and held the match to them to light it. 
 The cat, however, not understanding such a joke, 
 sprang at his face, and spat, and scratched him. 
 
THE WAITS OF BREMEN. 157 
 
 This frightened him dreadfully, and away he ran to 
 the back door, where the dog jumped up and bit 
 him in the leg. As he was crossing over the yard 
 the ass kicked him ; and the cock, who had been 
 awakened by the noise, crew with all his might. 
 
 At this the robber ran back as fast as he could 
 to his comrades, and told the captain that a horrid 
 witch had got into the house, and had scratched his 
 face with her long bony fingers — that a man with a 
 knife in his hand had hidden himself behind the 
 door, and stabbed him in the leg — that a black 
 monster stood in the yard and struck him with a 
 club — and that the devil sat upon the top of the 
 house, and cried out — 
 
 " Throw the rascal up here ! " 
 
 After this the robbers never dared to go back to 
 the house ; but the musicians were so pleased with 
 their quarters, that they never found their way to 
 Bremen, but took up their abode in the wood. And 
 there they live, I dare say, to this very day. 
 
THE FLAMING CASTLE. 
 
 Upon a high mountain in the Tyrol there stands ar 
 old castle, in which there burns a fire every night, 
 and the flashes of that fire are so large that they rise 
 up over the walls, and may be seen far and wide. 
 
 It happened once that an old woman in want of 
 firewood was gathering the fallen twigs and branches 
 upon this castle-crowned mountain, and at length 
 arrived at the castle door. To indulge her curiosity 
 she began peering about her, and at last entered, not 
 without difiiculty, for it was all in ruins and not easily 
 accessible. When she reached the courtyard, there 
 she beheld a goodly company of nobles and ladies 
 seated and feasting at a huge table. There were, 
 likewise, plenty of servants, who waited upon them, 
 changing their plates, handing round the viands, and 
 pouring out wine for the party. 
 
 As she thus stood gazing upon them, there came 
 one of the servants, who drew her on one side, and 
 placed a piece of gold in the pocket of her apron, 
 upon which the whole scene vanished in an instant, 
 and the poor frightened old woman was left to find 
 
 1&8 
 
THE FLAMING CASTLE. 159 
 
 her way back as well as she could. However, she 
 got outside the courtyard, and there stood before 
 her a soldier with a lighted match, Avliose head was 
 not placed upon his neck, but held by him under his 
 arm. He immediately addressed the old woman, 
 and commanded her not to tell any one what she 
 had seen and heard upon peril of evil befalling her. 
 
 At length the woman reached home, full of 
 anguish, still keeping possession of the gold, but 
 telling no one whence she had obtained it. When 
 the magistrates, however, got wind of the affair, she 
 was summoned before them, but she would not speak 
 one word upon the subject, excusing herself by say- 
 ing that if she uttered one word respecting it great 
 evil w^ould ensue to her. When, however, they 
 pressed her more strictly, she discovered to them all 
 that had happened to her in the Fiery Castle, even 
 to the smallest particular. In an instant, almost 
 before her relation was fully ended, she was carried 
 away, and no one could ever learn whither she fled. 
 
 A year or two afterwards, a young nobleman, a 
 knight, and one well experienced in all things, tooli 
 up his abode in those parts. In order that he might 
 ascertain the issue of this affair, he set out on foot 
 with his servant in the middle of the night on the 
 road to the mountain. With great difficulty they 
 made the ascent, and were on their way warned six 
 times by an unknown voice to desist from their 
 attempt. 
 
160 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 They kept on, however, heedless of this caution, 
 and at length reached the door of the castle. There 
 again stood the soldier as a sentinel, and he called 
 out as usual — 
 
 "Who goes there r' 
 
 The nobleman, who was bold of heart, gave for 
 answer — 
 
 " It is I." 
 
 Upon this the spirit inquired further — 
 
 "Who art thou r' 
 
 This time the nobleman made no answer, but 
 desired his servant to hand him his sword. When 
 this was done, a black horseman came riding out of 
 the castle, against whom the nobleman would have 
 waged battle. The horseman, however, dragged 
 him up upon his horse and rode with him into the 
 courtyard, while the soldier chased the servant down 
 the mountain. The nobleman was never more seen. 
 
THE MONKS AT THE FEEEY. 
 
 Feom time immemorial a ferry has existed from 
 Andernach to the opposite side of the Ehine. 
 Formerly it was more in use than at present, there 
 being then a greater intercourse between the two 
 shores of the river, much of which might be traced 
 to the Convent of St. Thomas, once the most im- 
 portant and flourishing nunnery on the river. 
 
 Close by this ferry, on the margin of the Ehine, 
 but elevated somewhat above the level of the water, 
 stands a long, roofless, ruinous building, the remains 
 of the castle of Friedrichstein, better known, how- 
 ever, to the peasantry, and to all passengers on the 
 river, as the Devil's House. Hoav it came by this 
 suspicious appellative there are many traditions to 
 explain. Some say that the Prince of Neuwied, 
 who erected it, so ground down his subjects for its 
 construction, that they unanimously gave it that 
 name. Others derive its popular sobriquet from the 
 godless revelries of the same prince within its walls, 
 and the wild deeds of his companions in wickedness j 
 while a third class of local historians insist upon it 
 L 
 
162 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 that the ruin takes its name from the congregation 
 of fiendish shapes which resort there on special 
 occasions, and the riot and rout which they create 
 in the roofless chambers, reeking vaults, and crumb- 
 ling corridors of the desolate edifice. It is to this 
 ruin, and of the adjacent ferry, that the following 
 legend belongs. 
 
 It was in the time when the celebrated Convent 
 of St. Thomas over Andernach existed in its pristine 
 magnificence, that late on an autumnal night the 
 ferryman from that city to the Devil's House on the 
 other side of the river, who lived on the edge of 
 the bank below the ruins of the ancient palace of 
 the kings of Austrasia, was accosted by a stranger, 
 who desired to be put across just as the man was 
 about to haul up his boat for the day. The stranger 
 seemed to be a monk, for he was closely cowled, and 
 gowned from head to foot in the long, dark, flow- 
 ing garb of some ascetic order. 
 
 " Hilloa ! ferry," he shouted aloud as he approached 
 the shore of the river, " hilloa ! " 
 
 " Here, ahoy ! here, most reverend father ! " 
 answered the poor ferryman. "What would ye 
 ha^e with me ] " 
 
 " I would that you ferry me across the Rhine to 
 yonder shore of the river," replied the monk. " I 
 come from the Convent of St. Thomas, and I go 
 afar on a weighty mission. Now, be ye quick, my 
 good friend, and run me over." 
 
THE MONKS AT THE FEERY. 163 
 
 " Most willingly, reverend father," said the ferry- 
 man. "Most willingly. Step into my boat, and 
 I '11 put you across the current in a twinkling." 
 
 The dark-looking monk entered the boat, and the 
 ferryman shoved off from the bank. They soon 
 reached the opposite shore. The ferryman, however, 
 had scarce time to give his fare a good-evening ere 
 he disappeared from his sight, in the direction of 
 the Devil's House. Pondering a little on this 
 strange circumstance, and inwardly thinking that 
 the dark monk might as well have paid him his 
 fare, or, at least, bade him good-night before he 
 took such unceremonious leave, he rowed slowly 
 back across the stream to his abode at Andernach. 
 
 " Hilloa ! ferry," once more resounded from the 
 margin of the river as he approached, " hilloa ! " 
 
 " Here, ahoy ! " responded the ferryman, but 
 with some strange sensation of fear. " What would 
 
 ye?" 
 
 He rowed to the shore, but he could see no one 
 for a while, for it was now dark. As he neared the 
 landing-place, however, he became aware of the 
 presence of two monks, garbed exactly like his 
 late passenger, standing together, concealed by the 
 shadow of the massive ruins. 
 
 " Here ! here ! " they cried. 
 
 "We would ye would ferry us over to yonder 
 shore of the river," said the foremost of the twain. 
 " We go afar on a weighty errand from the Convent 
 
164 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 of St. Thomas, and we must onwards this night. 
 So be up quick, friend, and run us over soon." 
 
 "Step in, then," said the ferryman, not over 
 courteously, for he remembered the trick played on 
 him by their predecessor. 
 
 They entered the boat, and the ferryman put off. 
 Just as the prow of the boat touched the opposite 
 bank of the river, both sprang ashore, and disap- 
 peared at once from his view, like him who had 
 gone before them. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the ferryman, " if they call that 
 doing good, or acting honestly, to cheat a hard- 
 working poor fellow out of the reward of his 
 labour, I do not know what bad means, or what it 
 is to act knavishly." 
 
 He waited a little while to see if they would 
 return to pay him, but finding that they failed to 
 do so, he put across once more to his home at 
 Andernach. 
 
 " Hilloa ! ferry," again hailed a voice from the 
 shore to which he was making, " hilloa ! " 
 
 The ferryman made no reply to this suspicious 
 hail, but pushed off his boat from the landing-place, 
 fully resolved in his own mind to have nothing to 
 do with any more such black cattle that night. 
 
 " Hilloa ! ferry," was again repeated in a sterner 
 voice. " Art dead or asleep ? " 
 
 "Here, ahoy!" cried the ferryman. "What 
 would ye ? " 
 
THE MONKS AT THE FEKRY. 165 
 
 He had thought of passing downwards to the 
 other extremity of the town, and there mooring his 
 barque below the place she usually lay in, lest any 
 other monks might feel disposed to make him their 
 slave without offering any recompense. He had, 
 however, scarcely entertained the idea, when three 
 black-robed men, clothed as the former, in long, 
 flowing garments, but more closely cowled, if 
 possible, than they, stood on the very edge of the 
 stream, and beckoned him to them. It was in vain 
 for him to try to evade them, and as if to render 
 any effort to that effect more nugatory, the moon 
 broke forth from the thick clouds, and lit up the 
 scene all around with a radiance like day. 
 
 " Step in, holy fathers ! step in ! quick ! " said he, 
 in a gruff voice, after they had told him the same 
 tale in the very same words as the three others had 
 used who had passed previously. 
 
 They entered the boat, and again the ferryman 
 pushed off. They had reached the centre of the 
 stream, when he bethought him that it was then a 
 good time to talk of his fee, and he resolved to have 
 it, if possible, ere they could escape him. 
 
 "But what do you mean to give me for my 
 trouble, holy fathers ■? " he inquired. " Nothing for 
 nothing, ye know." 
 
 " We shall give you all that we have to bestow," 
 replied one of the monks. " Won't that suffice 1 " 
 
 " What is that 1 " asked the ferrvman. 
 
166 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " Nothing," said the monk who had answered him 
 first. 
 
 " But our blessing," interposed the second monk. 
 
 " Blessing ! bah ! That won't do. I can't eat 
 blessings ! " responded the grumbling ferryman. 
 
 " Heaven will pay you," said the third monk. 
 
 " That won't do either," answered the enraged 
 ferryman. " I '11 put back again to Andernach 1 " 
 
 " Be it so," said the monks. 
 
 The ferryman put about the head of his boat, and 
 began to row back towards Andernach, as he had 
 threatened. He had, however, scarcely made three 
 strokes of his oars, when a high wind sprang up 
 and the waters began to rise and rage and foam, 
 like the billows of a storm-vexed sea. Soon a 
 hurricane of the most fearful kind followed, and 
 SAvept over the chafing face of the stream. In his 
 forty years' experience of the river, the ferryman 
 had never before beheld such a tempest — so dreadful 
 and so sudden. He gave himself up for lost, threw 
 down his oars, and flung himself on his knees, 
 praying to Heaven for mercy. At that moment two 
 of the dark-robed monks seized the oars which he 
 had abandoned, while the third wrenched one of the 
 thwarts of the boat from its place in the centre. 
 All three then began to belabour the wretched man 
 with all their might and main, until at length he 
 lay senseless and without motion at the bottom of 
 the boat. The barque, which was now veered about. 
 
THE MONKS AT THE FERRY. 167 
 
 bore them rapidly towards their original destination. 
 The only words that passed on the occasion were an 
 exclamation of the first monk who struck the ferry- 
 man down. 
 
 " Steer your boat aright, friend," he cried, " if you 
 value your life, and leave off your prating. What 
 have you to do with Heaven, or Heaven with you ?" 
 
 When the poor ferryman recovered his senses, 
 day had long dawned, and he was lying alone at the 
 bottom of his boat. He found that he had drifted 
 below Hammerstein, close to the shore of the right 
 bank of the river. He could discover no trace of 
 his companions. With much difficulty he rowed up 
 the river, and reached the shore. 
 
 He learned afterwards from a gossiping neighbour, 
 that, as the man returned from Neuwied late that 
 night, or rather early the next morning, he met, 
 just emerging from the Devil's House, a large black 
 chariot running on three huge wheels, drawn by four 
 horses without heads. In that vehicle he saw six 
 monks seated vis-h-vis, apparently enjoying their 
 morning ride. The driver, a curious-looking carl, 
 with a singularly long nose, took, he said, the road 
 along the edge of the river, and continued lashing 
 his three coal-black, headless steeds at a tremendous 
 rate, until a sharp turn hid them from the man's 
 view. 
 
DOCTOR ALL-WISE. 
 
 There was a poor peasant, named Crab, who once 
 drove two oxen, with, a load of wood, into the city, 
 and there sold it for two dollars to a doctor. The 
 doctor counted out the money to him as he sat at 
 dinner, and the peasant, seeing how well he fared, 
 yearned to live like him, and would needs be a 
 doctor too. He stood a little while in thought, and 
 at last asked if he could not become a doctor. 
 
 " Oh yes," said the doctor, " that may be easily 
 managed. In the first place you must purchase an 
 A, B, C book, only taking care that it is one that 
 has got in the front of it a picture of a cock crowing. 
 Then sell your cart and oxen, and buy with the 
 money clothes, and all the other things needful. 
 Thirdly, and lastly, have a sign painted with the 
 words, ' I am Doctor All- Wise,' and have it nailed 
 up before the door of your house." 
 
 The peasant did exactly as he had been told; and 
 after he had doctored a little while, it chanced that 
 a certain nobleman was robbed of a large sum of 
 money. Some one told him that there lived in the 
 
 163 
 
DOCTOR ALL-WISE. 169 
 
 village hard by a Doctor All-Wise, who was sure to 
 be able to tell him where his money had gone. The 
 nobleman at once ordered his carriage to be got 
 ready and rode into the city, and having come to 
 the doctor, asked him if he was Dr. All- Wise. 
 
 " Oh yes," answered he, " I am Doctor All- Wise, 
 sure enough." 
 
 " Will you go with me, then," said the nobleman, 
 " and get me back my money 1 " 
 
 " To be sure I will," said the doctor j " but my 
 wife Grethel must go with me." 
 
 The nobleman was pleased to hear this, made 
 them both get into the carriage with him, and away 
 they all rode together. When they arrived at the 
 nobleman's house dinner was already prepared, and 
 he desired the doctor to sit down with him. 
 
 " My wife Grethel, too," said the doctor. 
 
 As soon as the first servant brought in the first 
 dish, which was some great delicacy, the doctor 
 nudged his wife, and said — 
 
 "Grethel, that is the first," meaning the first 
 dish. 
 
 The servant overheard his remark, and thought 
 he meant to say he was the first thief, which was 
 actually the case, so he was sore troubled, and said 
 to his comrades — 
 
 "The doctor knows everything. Things will 
 certainly fall out ill, for he said I was the first 
 thief." 
 
170 GERMAN FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 The second servant would not believe what he 
 said, but at last he was obliged, for when he 
 carried the second dish into the room, the doctor 
 remarked to his wife — 
 
 " Grethel, that is the second." 
 
 The second servant was now as much frightened 
 as the first, and was pleased to leave the apartment. 
 The third served no better, for the doctor said — 
 
 " Grethel, that is the third." 
 
 !N'ow the fourth carried in a dish which had a 
 cover on it, and the nobleman desired the doctor 
 to show his skill by guessing what was under the 
 cover. Now it was a crab. The doctor looked at 
 the dish, and then at the cover, and could not at 
 all divine what they contained, nor how to get out 
 of the scrape. At length he said, half to himself 
 and half aloud — 
 
 " Alas ! poor crab ! " 
 
 When the nobleman heard this, he cried out — 
 
 " You have guessed it, and now I am sure you 
 will know where my money is." 
 
 The servant was greatly troubled at this, and he 
 winked to the doctor to follow him out of the 
 room, and no sooner did he do so than the whole 
 four who had stolen the gold stood before him, 
 and said that they would give it up instantly, and 
 give him a good sum to boot, provided he would 
 not betray them, for if he did their necks would pay 
 for it. The doctor promised, and they conducted 
 
DOCTOH ALL- WISE. 171 
 
 him to the place where the gold lay concealed. The 
 doctor was well pleased to see it, and went back to 
 the nobleman, and said — 
 
 " My lord, I will now search in my book and 
 discover where the money is." 
 
 Now the fifth servant had crept into an oven to 
 hear what the doctor said. He sat for some time 
 turning over the leaves of his A, B, C book, looking 
 for the picture of the crowing cock, and as he did 
 not find it readily, he exclaimed — 
 
 " I know you are in here, and you must come 
 out." 
 
 Then the man in the oven, thinking the doctor 
 spoke of him, jumped out in a great fright, saying — 
 
 " The man knows everything." 
 
 Then Doctor All- Wise showed the nobleman 
 where the gold was hidden, but he said nothing as 
 to who stole it. So he received a great reward 
 from all parties, and became a very famous man. 
 
THE WHITE MAIDEN. 
 
 It is now centuries since a young noble of the 
 neighbourhood was hunting in the valleys which 
 lie behind the hills that skirt the Ehine opposite 
 the ancient town of St. Goar. In the heat of the 
 pursuit he followed the game to the foot of the 
 acclivity on which are seated the ruins of Thurnberg, 
 and there it disappeared all at once from his view. It 
 was the noon of a midsummer day, and the sun 
 shone down on him with all its strength. Despair- 
 ing of being able to find the object of his pursuit, 
 he determined to clamber up the steep hillside, and 
 seek shelter and repose in the shadow of the old 
 castle, or, mayhap, in one of its many crumbling cham- 
 bers. "With much labour he succeeded in reaching 
 the summit, and there, fatigued with his toil, and 
 parched with a bui-ning thirst, he flung himself on 
 the ground beneath one of the huge towers, some 
 of whose remains still rear their heads on high, and 
 stretched out his tired limbs in the full enjoyment 
 of rest. 
 
 "Now," said he, as he wiped the perspiration 
 
 172 
 
THE WHITE MAIDEN. 173 
 
 from his brow, — " now could I be liappy indeed, if 
 some kind being would bring me a beaker of the 
 cool wine, which, they say, is ages old, down there 
 in the cellars of this castle." 
 
 He had scarce spoken the words when a most 
 beautiful maiden stepped forth from a cleft in the 
 ivy-covered ruin, bearing in one hand a huge silver 
 beaker of an antique form, full to the very brim of 
 foaming wine. In her other hand she held a large 
 bunch of keys of all sizes. She was clad in white 
 from head to foot, her hair was flaxen, her skin was 
 like a lily, and she had such loving eyes that they 
 at once won the heart of the young noble. 
 
 "Here," said she, handing him the beaker, "thy 
 wish is granted. Drink and be satisfied." 
 
 His heart leaped within him with joy at her con- 
 descension, and he emptied the contents of the goblet 
 at a single draught. All the while she looked at 
 him in such a manner as to intoxicate his very soul, 
 so kindly and confidential were her glances. The 
 wine coursed through his veins like liquid fire, his 
 heart soon burned with love for the maiden, and 
 the fever of his blood was by no means appeased by 
 the furtive looks which ever and anon she cast upon 
 him. She apparently read his state of mind, and 
 when his passion was at its highest pitch, and all 
 restraint seemed put an end to by the potent effects 
 of love and wine, she disappeared in a moment by 
 the way she came. The noble rushed after her in 
 
174 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 the hope of detaining the fugitive, or, at least, of 
 catching a parting glimpse of her retreating form, 
 but the ivy-encircled cleft, through which she seemed 
 to have flitted, looked as though it had not been 
 disturbed for centuries, and as he tried to force his 
 way to the gloomy cavern below, a crowd of bats 
 and owls and other foul birds of evil omen, aroused 
 from their repose, rose upwards, and, amidst dismal 
 hootings and fearful cries, almost flung him back- 
 ward with the violence of their flight. He spent 
 the remainder of the afternoon in search of the lost 
 one, but without success. At the coming of night 
 he wended his way homeward, weary, heart-sick, 
 and overwhelmed with an indefinable sensation of 
 sadness. 
 
 From that day forth he was an altered man — 
 altered in appearance as well as in mind and in 
 manners. Pleasure was a stranger to his soul, and 
 he knew no longer what it was to enjoy peace. 
 "Wherever he went, whatever pursuit he was en- 
 gaged in, whether in the chase, in the hall, in lady's 
 bower, or in chapel, his eye only saw one object — 
 the White Maiden. At the board she stood in 
 imagination always before him, off'ering to his 
 fevered lips the cool, brimming beaker ; and in the 
 long-drawn aisles of the chapel she was ever 
 present, beckoning him from his devotions to par- 
 take of the generous beverage which she still bore 
 in her right hand. Every matron or maiden he 
 
THE WHITE MAIDEN. 175 
 
 met seemed by some wondrous process to take her 
 shape, and even the very trees of the forest all 
 looked to his thought like her. 
 
 Thenceforward he commenced to haunt the ruins 
 in which she had appeared to him, still hoping to 
 see, once again, her for whom he felt he was dying, 
 and living alone in that hope. The sun scorched 
 him, but it was nothing to the fever that burned 
 within him. The rain drenched him, but he cared 
 not for it. Time and change and circumstance 
 seemed all forgotten by him, everything passed by 
 him unheeded. His whole existence was completely 
 swallowed up in one thought — the White Maiden of 
 the ruined castle, and that, alas ! was only vexation 
 of spirit. A deadly fever seized him. It was a 
 mortal disease. Still he raved, in his delirium, 
 but of her. One morn a woodman, who occasionally 
 provided him with food, found him a corpse at the 
 entrance of the crevice in the wall whence the 
 maiden had seemed to come, and where she had 
 disappeared. It was long rumoured that he had 
 struggled bravely with death — or rather that he 
 could not die, because the curse was upon him — 
 until the maiden, garbed in white as usual, appeared 
 to him once more. That then he stretched forth 
 his hands — she stooped over him. He raised his 
 head — she kissed his lips — and he died. 
 
 The White Maiden, tradition says, has not since 
 been seen in the ruins of Thurnbersf. 
 
THE STUEGEOK 
 
 The Convent of Schwartz-Rheindorf was founded 
 in the year of our Lord 1152 by the Bishop of 
 Cologne, Arnold Graf von Wied, for the reception of 
 noble ladies alone, and was placed by him under the 
 strict rule of St. Benedict. The prelate, who died 
 in the year 1159, lies buried beneath the high altar 
 of the church. 
 
 Among the many other rights and privileges con- 
 ferred on the convent by the Bishop was the right 
 of fishing in the river, within certain limits above 
 and below the convent's territorial boundaries. This 
 was a most valuable right for a long period. 
 
 The certainty of a profitable fishing was always 
 heralded by the appearance of two immense sturgeon. 
 They came at the commencement of each year, har- 
 bingers of good luck, and they were ever succeeded 
 by shoals of river fish, in such numbers as to be 
 absolutely inexhaustible until the expiration of the 
 season. Of these sturgeon the one, a huge male, 
 always allowed himself to be taken by the fishermen, 
 but the female was never captured. It was under- 
 
 176 
 
THE STURGEOX. 177 
 
 stood by those who knew all about these matters 
 that on her freedom depended the fisher's success. 
 This good fortune lasted for centuries. 
 
 It was, however, remarked that as the discipline 
 of the convent became more and more relaxed, and 
 grace grew to be less and less among its inmates, the 
 fishing became more and more unprofitable. The 
 sturgeon, it is true, still made their appearance, 
 but they were spent and thin, and altogether unlike 
 those which had been wont of yore to visit the 
 fishing-ground of the sisterhood. The abbess and 
 the nuns, however, either could not or they would 
 not perceive the cause of the falling off in the take, 
 or the change in the appearance of the sturgeon, but 
 the common people who dwelt in the vicinity of the 
 convent, and especially those poor persons to whom 
 the river had been heretofore a source of support, 
 were neither slow in seeing the cause nor in pub- 
 lishing the consequences to the world. Thus stood 
 matters : dissoluteness of life on the one hand, dis- 
 tress on the other ; profligacy and poverty, extrava- 
 gance and starvation, linked inseparably together. 
 
 It was midwinter. On the bank of the river 
 stood the purveyor of the convent, accompanied by 
 the lady abbess herself and a great number of the nuns. 
 They waited to watch the first haul made by the 
 fishermen on the New Year's morning, according to 
 the custom which had prevailed in the convent for 
 centuries. It was not usual for the river to be open 
 M 
 
178 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 at that time, but this year there was not a piece of 
 ice on its surface. The fishermen put out in their 
 boats, and cast their nets into the current ; then, 
 making the circuit of the spot, they returned to the 
 bank and commenced to haul them in. Little 
 difficulty was at first experienced by them in this 
 operation. For several years preceding the supply 
 of fish had scarcely sufficed to defray the expense of 
 catching. It would seem, however, as if fortune 
 were inclined to smile on the sisterhood once more. 
 The nets had not been more than half drawn in 
 when the fishermen began to perceive that they con- 
 tained something heavier than usual. The lady 
 abbess and the nuns were made acquainted with the 
 circumstance, and they watched, in eager expectancy, 
 the landing of the fish. The nets were at length 
 with much trouble hauled on shore. 
 
 " Hilloa ! " said the principal fisherman, an aged 
 man, to the purveyor of the convent, "hast thou 
 ever seen such monsters before ? My soul ! but this 
 will glad the hearts of the v/hole convent, and make 
 many poor folk happy, an it be but the harbinger of 
 a return to the old times." 
 
 AVhile he spoke two immense sturgeon were 
 landed. The abbess and her train approached the 
 landing-place, and admired the strength and superior 
 size of the fish. 
 
 " It would be but folly to set one of them free," 
 she partially soliloquised and partially spoke to the 
 
THE STURGEON. 179 
 
 purv^eyor. *' The convent has not had such a treat 
 for years past, and we absolutely require some 
 change. I '11 warrant me they will eat delightfully." 
 
 The purveyor, a wily Jewish-looking fellow, who 
 passed for an Italian, at once assented to the observa- 
 tions of his mistress, and added a few remarks of his 
 own in support of them. Not so, however, the old 
 fisherman, who overheard the conversation, having 
 approached the abbess with the purveyor to learn 
 her will and pleasure as to the disposal of the fish. 
 
 "Nay, nay, master," he interposed, in his rough 
 way, "not so fast, not so fast. My father fished on 
 this river for full fifty years, and my father's father 
 did the same ; and fifty years have I drawn net 
 here too, all in the service of the noble ladies of 
 Schwartz-Eheindorf. Never, in that time, knew I 
 other than this done with these fish — the one to be 
 let free, the other to be given away among the poor. 
 I '11 do nought else with them." 
 
 The abbess and the purveyor were but ill-pleased 
 to hear what the old man said. 
 
 "You must do as I bid you, Herman," said the 
 former. 
 
 " You must obey my lady, your mistress," echoed 
 the latter. " She is too good and gracious to ye." 
 
 " Not I," said the old man bluntly,—" not I. For 
 all the broad lands on the Rhine I would not have 
 hand, act, nor part in such a matter. Do as ye list, 
 but I '11 be none your servant in the matter." 
 
180 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 The old man walked away as he said these words, 
 and neither the entreaties of the abbess, the threats 
 of the purveyor, nor the interposition of some of the 
 nuns present could bring him back. 
 
 Others, however, were soon found among his com- 
 panions Avho were less scrupulous ; and the two 
 tish were accordingly removed to the convent, and 
 consigned to the care of the cook, to be served up 
 for dinner that day. 
 
 The dinner-hour arrived — the sisterhood were all 
 seated at table — the servitors, marshalled by the 
 supple purveyor, made their appearance, bearing the 
 expected banquet in large covered dishes. A hasty 
 grace was muttered, and then every eye was turned 
 to the covers. The abbess had ordered the sturgeon 
 to be served up first. 
 
 "And now, sisters," she said, with a complacent 
 look of benignant condescension, "I hope soon to 
 know how you approve of our dinner. It is my 
 constant study to make you happy, and my efforts 
 are unceasing to afford you every gratification in 
 my power. Let us begin." 
 
 The covers were removed in a twinkling by the 
 servitors, the carvers clattered their knives and 
 forks impatiently ; but what was the surprise of all, 
 when every dish as it was uncovered was found to 
 be empty. The wrath of the abbess rose at the 
 sight, and the zeal of the nuns knew no bounds in 
 seconding her indignation. The cook was hurriedly 
 
THE STURGEON. 181 
 
 sent for. He stood before the excited sisterhood 
 an abject, trembling wretch, far more like one who 
 expected to be made a victim of himself, than one 
 who would voluntarily make victims of others. 
 
 "How is this, villain?" exclaimed the abbess, 
 her face reddening with rage. 
 
 " How 's this, villain 1 " echoed threescore female 
 voices, some of them not musical. 
 
 " Ay, how is this, hound ? " growled the pur- 
 veyor. 
 
 " Do you mock us V continued the abbess, as the 
 cook stood trembling and silent. 
 
 " Do you mock us 1 " echoed the purveyor, with 
 as much dignity as he could impart into his thin, 
 meagre figure. 
 
 " Speak ! " said the abbess in a loud voice, while 
 the cook cast his eyes around as if seeking aid 
 against the excited throng the room contained, — 
 " speak ! " 
 
 Thus urged, the cook proceeded to explain — as far, 
 at least, as he was able. He declared that he had 
 cut up and cooked the sturgeon, according to the 
 directions he had received from the purveyor, and 
 that, when dinner was served up, he had sent 
 them up dressed in the manner that official had 
 directed. 
 
 The abbess and her nuns were much puzzled how 
 to explain this extraordinary occurrence, and each 
 busied herself in conjectures which, as usual in such 
 
182 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 cases, never approached the fact. At this juncture 
 the aged fisherman entered the room. 
 
 " My lady," he said to the abbess, when he learnt 
 Avhat had occurred, " it is the judgment of Heaven. 
 Even now I saw the fish in the river. I knew them 
 well, and I '11 swear to them if necessary. They 
 floated away, swimming down the stream, and I am 
 a much mistaken man if ever ye see them any 
 more." 
 
 The pleasurable anticipations of the day that the 
 sisters had entertained were completely annihilated; 
 but it would have been well for them if the conse- 
 quences of their avarice and gluttony had ended 
 with that hour. Never more did the sturgeon make 
 their appearance, and the part of the stream which 
 pertained to the convent thenceforth ceased to pro- 
 duce fish of any kind whatsoever. 
 
 People say that the Eeformation had the effect of 
 wooing the finny tribe back to their old haunts. At 
 all events, whatever may have been the cause, it is 
 the fact that there is not at present a less plentiful 
 supply in this spot than there is in any other part 
 of that rich river. 
 
SAINT AKDEEW'S NIGHT. 
 
 It is commonly believed in Germany that on St. 
 Andrew's night, St. Thomas' night, and Christmas 
 and New Year's nights, a girl has the power of 
 inviting and seeing her future lover. A table is to 
 be laid for two persons, taking care, however, that 
 there are no forks upon it. Whatever the lover 
 leaves behind him must be carefully preserved, for 
 he then returns to her who has it, and loves her 
 passionately. The article must, however, be kept 
 carefully concealed from his sight, for he would 
 otherwise remember the torture of superhuman 
 power exercised over him which he that night 
 endured, become conscious of the charms employed, 
 and this w^ould lead to fatal consequences. 
 
 A fair maiden in Austria once sought at midnight, 
 after performing the necessary ceremonies, to obtain 
 a sight of her lover, whereupon a shoemaker appeared 
 having a dagger in his hand, which he threw at her 
 and then disappeared. She picked up the dagger 
 which he had thrown at her and concealed it in a 
 trunk. 
 
 183 
 
184 GERMAN FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 Not long afterwards the shoemaker visited, courted, 
 and married her. Some years after her marriage 
 she chanced to go one Sunday about the hour of 
 vespers to the trunk in search of something that she 
 required for her work the next day. As she opened 
 the trunk her husband came to her, and would insist 
 on looking into it. She kept him off, until at last 
 he pushed her away, and there saw his long-lost 
 dagger. He immediately seized it, and demanded 
 how she obtained it, because he had lost it at a very 
 particular time. In her fear and alarm she had not 
 the power to invent any excuse, so declared the 
 truth, that it was the same dagger he had left 
 behind him the night w^hen she had obliged him to 
 appear to her. Her husband hereupon grew enraged, 
 and said, with a terrible voice — 
 
 " 'Twas you, then, that caused me that night of 
 dreadful misery ? " 
 
 With that he thrust the dagger into her heart. 
 
 Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty, 
 at tie Edinburgh University Press. 
 
FOLK-LORE 
 
 AND 
 
 LEGENDS 
 
 ORIENTAL 
 
 r}^ 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 
 1892 
 
PEEFATOHY NOTE 
 
 The East is rich in Folklore, and the lorist is 
 not troubled to discover material, but to select 
 only that which it is best worth his while to 
 preserve. The conditions under which the people 
 live are most favourable to the preservation 
 of the ancient legends, and the cultivation of 
 the powers of narration fits the Oriental to 
 present his stories in a more polished style than 
 is usual in the Western countries. The reader 
 of these tales will observe many points of simi- 
 larity between them and the popular fictions 
 of the West — similarity of thought and incident 
 — and nothing, perhaps, speaks more eloquently 
 the universal brotherhood of man than this 
 
VI PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 oneness of folk-fiction. At the same time, the 
 Tales of the East are unique, lighted up as they 
 are by a gorgeous extravagance of imagination 
 which never fails to attract and delight. 
 
 C. J. T. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Cobbler Astrologer, .... I 
 
 The Legend of the Terrestrial Paradise of Sheddad, 
 
 the Son of 'A'D, . . . .21 
 
 The Tomb of Noosheerw^n, . . .30 
 
 Ameen and the Ghool, . . . .37 
 
 The Relations of Ssidi Kur, . , .47 
 
 The Adventures of the Rich Yoiith, . 53 
 
 The Adventures of the Beggar's Son, . 58 
 
 The Adventures of Massang, . .68 
 
 The Magician with the Swine's Head, . . 77 
 
 The History of Sunshine and his Brother, . 89 
 The Wonderful Man who overcame the Chan, . 96 
 
 The Bird-Man, . . . . .101 
 
 The Painter and the Wood-carver, . .106 
 
 The Stealing of the Heart, . . .110 
 
 The Man and his Wife, . . .115 
 
 Of the Maiden Ssuwarandari, . . .119 
 
 The Two Cats, . . . . .127 
 
Vlll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Legend of Dhurrumuatb, 
 The Traveller's Adventure, . 
 The Seven Stages of Roostem.. 
 The Man who never Laughed, 
 The Fox and the Wolf, 
 The Shepherd and the Jogie, 
 The Perfidious Vizier, 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 132 
 
 
 135 
 
 
 141 
 
 
 151 
 
 • 
 
 1G2 
 
 
 1S4 
 
 . 
 
 ISO 
 
THE COBBLER ASTEOLOGER 
 
 In the great city of Isfahan lived Ahmed the ob- 
 bler, an honest and industrious man, whose wish 
 was to pass through life quietly; and he might 
 have done so, had he not married a handsome wife, 
 who, although she had condescended to accept of 
 him as a husband, was far from being contented 
 with his humble sphere of life. 
 
 Sittara, such was the name of Ahmed's wife, 
 was ever forming foolish schemes of riches and 
 grandeur; and though Ahmed never encouraged 
 them, he was too fond a husband to quarrel with 
 what gave her pleasure. An incredulous smile 
 or a shake of the head was his only answer to her 
 often-told day-dreams ; and she continued to per- 
 suade herself that she was certainly destined to 
 great fortune. 
 
 It happened one evening, while in this temper of 
 mind, that she went to the Hemmam, where she 
 saw a lady retiring dressed in a magnificent robe^ 
 covered with jewels, and surrounded by slaves. 
 This was the very condition Sittara had always 
 
 Oriental. . 
 
 A 
 
2 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 longed for, and she eagerly inquired the name of 
 the happy person who had so many attendants and 
 such fine jewels. She learned it was the wife of 
 the chief astrologer to the king. With this informa- 
 tion she returned home. Her husband met her at 
 the door, but was received with a frown, nor could 
 all his caresses obtain a smile or a word ; for several 
 hours she continued silent, and in apparent misery. 
 At length she said — 
 
 " Cease your caresses, unless you are ready to give 
 me a proof that you do really and sincerely love me." 
 
 "What proof of love," exclaimed poor Ahmed, 
 " can you desire which I will not give ] " 
 
 " Give over cobbling ; it is a vile, low trade, and 
 never yields more than ten or twelve dinars a day. 
 Turn astrologer ! your fortune will be made, and I 
 shall have all I wish, and be happy." 
 
 "Astrologer ! " cried Ahmed, — " astrologer ! Have 
 you forgotten who I am — a cobbler, without any 
 learning — that you want me to engage in a pro- 
 fession which requires so much skill and know- 
 ledge?" 
 
 " I neither think nor care about your qualifica- 
 tions," said the enraged wife; " all I know is, that 
 if you do not turn astrologer immediately I will be 
 divorced from you to-morrow." 
 
 The cobbler remonstrated, but in vain. The 
 figure of the astrologer's wife, with her jewels and 
 her slaves, had taken complete possession of Sittara's 
 
THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 3 
 
 imagination. All night it haunted her ; she dreamt 
 of nothing else, and on awaking declared she would 
 leave the house if her husband did not comply with 
 her wishes. What could poor Ahmed do 1 He was 
 no astrologer, but he was dotingly fond of his wife, 
 and he could not bear the idea of losing her. He 
 promised to obey, and, having sold his little stock, 
 bought an astrolabe, an astronomical almanac, and 
 a table of the twelve signs of the zodiac. Furnished 
 with these he went to the market-place, crying, " I 
 am an astrologer ! I know the sun, and the moon, 
 and the stars, and the twelve signs of the zodiac ; I 
 can calculate nativities; I can foretell everything 
 that is to happen ! " 
 
 No man was better known than Ahmed the 
 cobbler. A crowd soon gathered round him. "What ! 
 friend Ahmed," said one, "have you worked till 
 your head is turned 1 " " Are you tired of looking 
 down at your last," cried another, " that you are 
 now looking up at the planets?" These and a 
 thousand other jokes assailed the ears of the poor 
 cobbler, who, notwithstanding, continued to exclaim 
 that he was an astrologer, having resolved on doing 
 what he could to please his beautiful wife. 
 
 It so happened that the king's jeweller was pass- 
 ing by. He was in great distress, having lost the 
 richest ruby belonging to the crown. Every search 
 had been made to recover this inestimable jewel, 
 but to no purpose; and as the jeweller knew he 
 
4 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 could no longer conceal its loss from the king, he 
 looked forward to death as inevitable. In this 
 hopeless state, while wandering about the town, he 
 reached the crowd around Ahmed and asked what 
 was the matter. "Don't jon know Ahmed the 
 cobbler ^ " said one of the bystanders, laughing ; 
 " he has been inspired, and is become an astrologer." 
 
 A drowning man will catch at a broken reed : 
 the jeweller no sooner heard the sound of the word 
 astrologer, than he went up to Ahmed, told him 
 what had happened, and said, " If you understand 
 your art, you must be able to discover the king's 
 ruby. Do so, and I will give you two hundred 
 pieces of gold. But if you do not succeed within 
 six hours, I will use all my influence at court to 
 have you put to death as an impostor." 
 
 Poor Ahmed was thunderstruck. He stood long 
 without being able to move or speak, reflecting on 
 his misfortunes, and grieving, above all, that his 
 wife, whom he so loved, had, by her envy and 
 selfishness, brought him to such a fearful alterna- 
 tive. Full of these sad thoughts, he exclaimed 
 aloud, " woman, woman ! thou art more baneful 
 to the happiness of man than the poisonous dragon 
 of the desert ! " 
 
 The lost ruby had been secreted by the jeweller's 
 wife, who, disquieted by those alarms which ever 
 attend guilt, sent one of her female slaves to watch 
 her husband. This slave, on seeing her master 
 
THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 5 
 
 speak to the astrologer, drew near ; and when she 
 heard Ahmed, after some moments of apparent 
 abstraction, compare a woman to a poisonous 
 dragon, she was satisfied that he must know every- 
 thing. She ran to her mistress, and, breathless with 
 fear, cried, " You are discovered, my dear mistress, 
 you are discovered by a vile astrologer. Before six 
 hours are past the whole story will be known, and 
 you will become infamous, if you are even so fortu- 
 nate as to escape with life, unless you can find some 
 way of prevailing on him to be merciful." She then 
 related what she had seen and heard ; and Ahmed's 
 exclamation carried as complete conviction to the 
 mind of the terrified mistress as it had done to that 
 of her slave. 
 
 The jeweller's wife, hastily throwing on her veil, 
 went in search of the dreaded astrologer. When 
 she found him, she threw herself at his feet, crying, 
 " Spare my honour and my life, and I will confess 
 everything ! " 
 
 " What can you have to confess to me 1 " exclaimed 
 Ahmed in amazement. 
 
 " Oh, nothing ! nothing with which you are not 
 already acquainted. You know too well that I stole 
 the ruby from the king's crown. I did so to punish 
 my husband, who uses me most cruelly ; and I 
 thought by this means to obtain riches for myself, 
 and to have him put to death. But you, most 
 wonderful man, from whom nothing is hidden, have 
 
6 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 discovered and defeated my wicked plan. I beg 
 only for mercy, and will do whatever you command 
 me." 
 
 An angel from heaven could not have brought 
 more consolation to Ahmed than did the jeweller's 
 wife. He assumed all the dignified solemnity that 
 became his new character, and said, " Woman ! I 
 know all thou hast done, and it is fortunate for thee 
 that thou hast come to confess thy sin and beg for 
 mercy before it was too late. Return to thy house, 
 put the ruby under the pillow of the couch on 
 which thy husband sleeps; let it be laid on the 
 side furthest from the door ; and be satisfied thy 
 guilt shall never be even suspected." 
 
 The jeweller's wife returned home, and did as she 
 was desired. In an hour Ahmed followed her, and 
 told the jeweller he had made his calculations, and 
 found by the aspect of the sun and moon, and by 
 the configuration of the stars, that the ruby was at 
 that moment lying under the pillow of his couch, 
 on the side furthest from the door. The jeweller 
 thought Ahmed must be crazy; but as a ray of 
 hope is like a ray from heaven to the wretched, he 
 ran to his couch, and there, to his joy and wonder, 
 found the ruby in the very place described. He 
 came back to Ahmed, embraced him, called him his 
 dearest friend and the preserver of his life, and gave 
 him the two hundred pieces of gold, declaring that 
 he was the first astrologer of the age. 
 
THE COBBLER ASTEOLOGER. 7 
 
 These praises conveyed no joy to the poor cobbler, 
 who returned home more thankful to God for his 
 preservation than elated by his good fortune. The 
 moment he entered the door his wife ran up to him 
 and exclaimed, " Well, my dear astrologer ! what 
 success?" 
 
 " There ! " said Ahmed, very gravely, — " there are 
 two hundred pieces of gold. I hope you will be 
 satisfied now, and not ask me again to hazard my 
 life, as I have done this morning." He then related 
 all that had passed. But the recital made a very 
 different impression on the lady from what these 
 occurrences had made on Ahmed. Sitt^ra saw 
 nothing but the gold, which would enable her to 
 vie with the chief astrologer's wife at the Hemmam. 
 " Courage !" she said, "courage ! my dearest husband. 
 This is only your first labour in your new and noble 
 profession. Go on and prosper, and we shall be- 
 come rich and happy." 
 
 In vain Ahmed remonstrated and represented the 
 danger ; she burst into tears, and accused him of not 
 loving her, ending with her usual threat of insisting 
 upon a divorce. 
 
 Ahmed's heart melted, and he agreed to make 
 another trial. Accordingly, next morning he sallied 
 forth with his astrolabe, his twelve signs of the 
 zodiac, and his almanac, exclaiming, as before, " I 
 am an astrologer ! I know the sun, and the moon, 
 and the stars, and the twelve si^ns of the zodiac : I 
 
8 OKIENTAL FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 can calculate nativities ; I can foretell everything 
 that is to happen ! " A crowd again gathered round 
 him, but it was now with wonder, and not ridicule ; 
 for the story of the ruby had gone abroad, and the 
 voice of fame had converted the poor cobbler Ahmed 
 into the ablest and most learned astrologer that was 
 ever seen at Isfahan. 
 
 While everybody was gazing at him, a lady passed 
 by veiled. She was the wife of one of the richest 
 merchants in the city, and had just been at the 
 Hemmam, where she had lost a A^aluable necklace 
 and earrings. She was now returning home in great 
 alarm lest her husband should suspect her of having 
 given her jewels to a lover. Seeing the crowd 
 around Ahmed, she asked the reason of their assem- 
 bling, and was informed of the whole story of the 
 famous astrologer : how he had been a cobbler, was 
 inspired with supernatural knowledge, and could, 
 with the help of his astrolabe, his twelve signs of 
 the zodiac, and his almanac, discover all that ever 
 did or ever would happen in the world. The story 
 of the jeweller and the king's ruby was then told 
 her, accompanied by a thousand wonderful circum- 
 stances which had never occurred. The lady, quite 
 satisfied of his skill, went up to Ahmed and men- 
 tioned her loss, saying : " A man of your knowledge 
 and penetration will easily discover my jewels ; find 
 them, and I will give you fifty pieces of gold." 
 
 The poor cobbler was quite confounded, and looked 
 
THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 9 
 
 down^ thinking only how to escape without a public 
 exposure of his ignorance. The lady, in pressing 
 through the crowd, had torn the lower part of her 
 veil. Ahmed's downcast eyes noticed this; and 
 wishing to inform her of it in a delicate manner, 
 before it was observed by others, he whispered to 
 her, " Lady, look down at the rent." The lady's head 
 was full of her loss, and she was at that moment 
 endeavouring to recollect how it could have occurred. 
 Ahmed's speech brought it at once to her mind, and 
 she exclaimed in delighted surprise : " Stay here a 
 few moments, thou great astrologer. I will return 
 immediately with the reward thou so well deservest." 
 Saying this, she left him, and soon returned, carry- 
 ing in one hand the necklace and earrings, and in 
 the other a purse with the fifty pieces of gold. 
 " There is gold for thee," she said, " thou wonderful 
 man, to whom all the secrets of Nature are revealed ! 
 I had quite forgotten where I laid the jewels, and 
 without thee should never have found them. But 
 when thou desiredst me to look at the rent below, 
 I instantly recollected the rent near the bottom of 
 the wall in the bathroom, where, before undressing, I 
 had hid them. I can now go home in peace and com- 
 fort; and it is all owing to thee, thou wisest of men !" 
 After these words she walked away, and Ahmed 
 returned to his home, thankful to Providence for 
 his preservation, and fully resolved never again to 
 tempt it. His handsome wife, however, could not 
 
10 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 yet rival tlie chief astrologer's lady in her appear- 
 ance at the Hemmam, so she renewed her entreaties 
 and threats, to make her fond husband continue his 
 career as an astrologer. 
 
 About this time it happened that the king's trea- 
 sury was robbed of forty chests of gold and jewels, 
 forming the greater part of the wealth of the king- 
 dom. The high treasurer and other officers of state 
 used all diligence to find the thieves, but in vain. 
 The king sent for his astrologer, and declared that if 
 the robbers were not detected by a stated time, he, 
 as well as the principal ministers, should be put to 
 death. Only one day of the short period given them 
 remained. All their search had proved fruitless, and 
 the chief astrologer, who had made his calculations 
 and exhausted his art to no purpose, had quite 
 resigned himself to his fate, when one of his friends 
 advised him to send for the wonderful cobbler, who 
 had become so famous for his extraordinary dis- 
 coveries. Two slaves were immediately despatched 
 for Ahmed, whom they commanded to go with them 
 to their master. " You see the effects of your ambi- 
 tion," said the poor cobbler to his wife ; " I am 
 going to my death. The king's astrologer has heard 
 of my presumption, and is determined to have me 
 executed as an impostor." 
 
 On entering the palace of the chief astrologer, he 
 was surprised to see that dignified person come for- 
 ward to receive him, and lead him to the seat of 
 
THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 11 
 
 honour, and not less so to hear himself thus ad- 
 dressed : " The ways of Heaven, most learned and 
 excellent Ahmed, are unsearchable. The high are 
 often cast down, and the low are lifted up. The 
 whole world depends upon fate and fortune. It is 
 my turn now to be depressed by fate ; it is thine to 
 be exalted by fortune." 
 
 His speech was here interrupted by a messenger 
 from the king, who, having heard of the cobbler's 
 fame, desired his attendance. Poor Ahmed now 
 concluded that it was all over with him, and followed 
 the king's messenger, praying to God that he would 
 deliver him from this peril. When he came into 
 the king's presence, he bent his body to the ground, 
 and wished his majesty long life and prosperity. 
 " Tell me, Ahmed," said the king, " who has stolen 
 my treasured' 
 
 " It was not one man," answered Ahmed, after 
 some consideration ; " there were forty thieves con- 
 cerned in the robber3^" 
 
 " Very well," said the king ; " but who were 
 they 1 and what have they done with my gold and 
 jewels 1 " 
 
 " These questions," said Ahmed, " I cannot now 
 answer ; but I hope to satisfy your Majesty, if you 
 will grant me forty days to make my calculations." 
 
 "I grant you forty days," said the king; "but 
 when they are past, if my treasure is not found, 
 your life shall pay the forfeit." 
 
12 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 Ahmed returned to his house well pleased ; for 
 he resolved to take advantage of the time allowed 
 him to fly from a city where his fame was likely to 
 be his ruin. 
 
 "Well, Ahmed," said his wife, as he entered, 
 " what news at Court ? " 
 
 " No news at all," said he, " except that I am to 
 be put to death at the end of forty days, unless I 
 find forty chests of gold and jewels which have 
 been stolen from the royal treasury." 
 
 " But you will discover the thieves." 
 
 " How 1 By what means am I to find them "? " 
 
 " By the same art which discovered the ruby and 
 the lady's necklace." 
 
 " The same art ! " replied Ahmed. " Foolish 
 woman ! thou knowest that I have no art, and that 
 I have only pretended to it for the sake of pleasing 
 thee. But I have had sufficient skill to gain forty 
 days, during which time we may easily escape to 
 some other city; and with the money I now 
 possess, and the aid of my former occupation, we 
 may still obtain an honest livelihood." 
 
 " An honest livelihood ! " repeated his lady, with 
 scorn. "Will thy cobbling, thou mean, spiritless 
 wretch, ever enable me to go to the Hemmam like 
 the wife of the chief astrologer "? Hear me, Ahmed ! 
 Think only of discovering the king's treasure. Thou 
 hast just as good a chance of doing so as thou hadst 
 of finding the ruby, and the necklace and earrings. 
 
THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 13 
 
 At all events, I am determined thou slialt not 
 escape ; and shouldst thou attempt to run away, I 
 will inform the king's officers, and have thee taken 
 up and put to death, even before the forty days are 
 expired. Thou knowest me too well, Ahmed, to 
 doubt my keeping my word. So take courage, 
 and endeavour to make thy fortune, and to place 
 me in that rank of life to which my beauty entitles 
 me." 
 
 The poor cobbler was dismayed at this speech ; 
 but knowing there Avas no hope of changing his 
 wife's resolution, he resigned himself to his fate. 
 " Well," said he, " your will shall be obeyed. All I 
 desire is to pass the few remaining days of my life 
 as comfortably as I can. You know I am no scholar, 
 and have little skill in reckoning ; so there are forty 
 dates : give me one of them every night after I have 
 said my prayers, that I may put them in a jar, and, 
 by counting them may always see how many of the 
 few days I have to live are gone." 
 
 The lady, pleased at carrying her point, took the 
 dates, and promised to be punctual in doing what 
 her husband desired. 
 
 Meanwhile the thieves who had stolen the king's 
 treasure, having been kept from leaving the city by 
 fear of detection and pursuit, had received accurate 
 information of every measure taken to discover 
 them. One of them was among the crowd before 
 the palace on the day the king sent for Ahmed; 
 
14 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 and hearing that the cobbler had immediately 
 declared their exact number, he ran in a fright to 
 his comrades, and exclaimed, "We are all found 
 out 1 Ahmed, the new astrologer, has told the king 
 that there are forty of us." 
 
 "There needed no astrologer to tell that," said 
 the captain of the gang. "This Ahmed, with all 
 his simple good-nature, is a shrewd fellow. Forty 
 chests having been stolen, he naturally guessed that 
 there must be forty thieves, and he has made a 
 good hit, that is all ; still it is prudent to watch 
 him, for he certainly has made some strange dis- 
 coveries. One of us must go to-night, after dark, to 
 the terrace of this cobbler's house, and listen to his 
 conversation with his handsome wife ; for he is said 
 to be very fond of her, and will, no doubt, tell her 
 what success he has had in his endeavours to detect 
 us." 
 
 Everybody approved of this scheme ; and soon 
 after nightfall one of the thieves repaired to the 
 terrace. He arrived there just as the cobbler had 
 finished his evening prayers, and his wife was giving 
 him the first date. " Ah ! " said Ahmed, as he took 
 it, " there is one of the forty." 
 
 The thief, hearing these words, hastened in con- 
 sternation to the gang, and told them that the 
 moment he took his post he had been perceived by 
 the supernatural knowledge of Ahmed, who im- 
 mediately told his wife that one of them was there. 
 
THE COBBLER ASTROLOGEK. 15 
 
 The spy's tale was not believed by his hardened 
 companions ; something was imputed to his fears ; 
 he might have been mistaken; — in short, it was 
 determined to send two men the next night at the 
 same hour. They reached the house just as Ahmed, 
 having finished his prayers, had received the second 
 date, and heard him exclaim, " My dear wife, to-night 
 there are two of them ! " 
 
 The astonished thieves fled, and told their still 
 incredulous comrades what they had heard. Three 
 men were consequently sent the third night, four 
 the fourth, and so on. Being afraid of venturing 
 during the day, they always came as evening closed 
 in, and just as Ahmed was receiving his date, hence 
 they all in turn heard him say that which convinced 
 them he was aware of their presence. On the last 
 night they all went, and Ahmed exclaimed aloud, 
 " The number is complete ! To-night the whole 
 forty are here ! " 
 
 All doubts were now removed. It was impossible 
 that Ahmed should have discovered them by any 
 natural means. How could he ascertain their exact 
 number? and night after night, without ever once 
 being mistaken 1 He must have learnt it by his 
 skill in astrology. Even the captain now yielded, 
 in spite of his incredulity, and declared his opinion 
 that it was hopeless to elude a man thus gifted ; he 
 therefore advised that they should make a friend 
 of the cobbler, by confessing everything to him, 
 
16 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 and bribing liim to secrecy by a share of the 
 booty. 
 
 His advice was approved of, and an hour before 
 dawn they knocked at Ahmed's door. The poor 
 man jumped out of bed, and supposing the soldiers 
 were come to lead him to execution, cried out, 
 " Have patience ! I know what you are come for. 
 It is a very unjust and wicked deed." 
 
 " Most wonderful man ! " said the captain, as the 
 door was opened, " we are fully convinced that thou 
 knowest why we are come, nor do we mean to 
 justify the action of which thou speakest. Here are 
 two thousand pieces of gold, which we will give 
 thee, provided thou wilt swear to say nothing more 
 about the matter." 
 
 '■' Say nothing about it ! " said Ahmed. " Do you 
 think it possible I can suffer such gross wrong and 
 injustice without complaining, and making it known 
 to all the world 1 " 
 
 " Have mercy upon us ! " exclaimed the thieves, 
 falling on their knees ; " only spare our lives, and 
 we will restore the royal treasure." 
 
 The cobbler started, rubbed his eyes to see if he 
 were asleep or awake ; and being satisfied that he 
 was awake, and that the men before him were really 
 the thieves, he assumed a solemn tone, and said : 
 " Guilty men ! ye are persuaded that ye cannot 
 escape from my penetration, which reaches unto the 
 sun and moon, and knows the position and aspect of 
 
THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 17 
 
 every star in the heavens. Your timely repentance 
 has saved you. But ye must immediately restore 
 all that ye have stolen. Go straightway, and carry 
 the forty chests exactly as ye found them, and bury 
 them a foot deep under the southern wall of the old 
 ruined Hemmam, beyond the king's palace. If ye 
 do this punctually, your lives are spared ; but if ye 
 fail in the slightest degree, destruction will fall upon 
 you and your families." 
 
 The thieves promised obedience to his commands 
 and departed. Ahmed then fell on his knees, and 
 returned thanks to God for this signal mark of his 
 favour. About two hours after the royal guards 
 came, and desired Ahmed to follow them. He said 
 he would attend them as soon as he had taken leave 
 of his wife, to whom he determined not to impart 
 what had occurred until he saw the result. He bade 
 her farewell very affectionately ; she supported her- 
 self with great fortitude on this trying occasion, 
 exhorting her husband to be of good cheer, and said 
 a few words about the goodness of Providence. But 
 the fact was, Sittara fancied that if God took the 
 worthy cobbler to himself, her beauty might attract 
 some rich lover, who would enable her to go to the 
 Hemmam with as much splendour as the astrologer's 
 lady, whose image, adorned with jewels and fine 
 clothes, and surrounded by slaves, still haunted her 
 imagination. 
 
 The decrees of Heaven are just : a reward suited 
 
 Oriental. -p. 
 
18 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 to their merits awaited Ahmed and his wife. The 
 good man stood with a cheerful countenance before 
 the king, who was impatient for his arrival, and 
 immediately said, " Ahmed, thy looks are promising; 
 hast thou discovered my treasure 1 " 
 
 "Does your Majesty require the thieves or the 
 treasure? The stars will only grant one or the 
 other," said Ahmed, looking at his table of astrolo- 
 gical calculations. " Your Majesty must make 
 your choice. I can deliver up either, but not 
 both." 
 
 "I should be sorry not to punish the thieves," 
 answered the king ; " but if it must be so, I choose 
 the treasure." 
 
 "And you give the thieves a full and free 
 pardon 1 " 
 
 " I do, provided I find my treasure untouched." 
 
 " Then," said Ahmed, *' if your majesty will 
 follow me, the treasure shall be restored to 
 
 you." 
 
 The king and all his nobles followed the cobbler 
 to the ruins of the old Hemmam. There, casting his 
 eyes towards heaven, Ahmed muttered some sounds, 
 which were supposed by the spectators to be magical 
 conjurations, but which were in reality the prayers 
 and thanksgivings of a sincere and pious heart to 
 God for his wonderful deliverance. When his 
 prayer was finished, he pointed to the southern wall, 
 and requested that his majesty would order his 
 
THE COBBLER ASTROLOGER. 19 
 
 attendants to dig there. The work was hardly 
 begun, when the whole forty chests were found in 
 the same state as when stolen, with the treasurer's 
 seal upon them still unbroken. 
 
 The king's joy knew no bounds; he embraced 
 Ahmed, and immediately appointed him his chief 
 astrologer, assigned to him an apartment in the 
 palace, and declared that he should marry his only 
 daughter, as it was his duty to promote the man 
 whom God had so singularly favoured, and had 
 made instrumental in restoring the treasures of his 
 kingdom. The young princess, who was more 
 beautiful than the moon, was not dissatisfied with 
 her father's choice ; for her mind was stored with 
 religion and virtue, and she had learnt to value 
 beyond all earthly qualities that piety and learning 
 which she believed Ahmed to possess. The royal 
 will was carried into execution as soon as formed. 
 The wheel of fortune had taken a complete turn. 
 The morning had found Ahmed in a wretched hovel, 
 rising from a sorry bed, in the expectation of losing 
 his life ; in the evening he was the lord of a rich 
 palace, and married to the only daughter of a power- 
 ful king. But this change did not alter his charac- 
 ter. As he had been meek and humble in adversity, 
 he was modest and gentle in prosperity. Conscious 
 of his own ignorance, he continued to ascribe his 
 good fortune solely to the favour of Providence. 
 He became daily more attached to the beautiful and 
 
20 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 virtuous princess whom he had married; and he 
 could not help contrasting her character with that of 
 his former wife, whom he had ceased to love, and of 
 whose unreasonable and unfeeling vanity he was now 
 fully sensible. 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE TEEEESTEIAL 
 
 PAEADISE OF SHED D AD, 
 
 THE SON OF 'A'D. 
 
 It is related that 'Abd Allah, the son of Aboo 
 Kildbeh, went forth to seek a camel that had run 
 away, and while he was proceeding over the deserts 
 of El-Yeman and the district of Seba, he chanced 
 to arrive at a vast city encompassed by enormous 
 fortifications, around the circuit of which were 
 pavilions rising high into the sky. So when he 
 approached it, he imagined that there must be in- 
 habitants within it, of whom he might inquire for 
 his camel ; and, accordingly, he advanced, but on 
 coming to it he found that it was desolate, without 
 any one to cheer its solitude. 
 
 " I alighted," says he, " from my she-camel, and 
 tied up her foot ; and then, composing my mind, 
 entered the city. On approaching the fortifications, 
 I found that they had two enormous gates, the lik 
 of which, for size and height, have never been seen 
 elsewhere in the world, set with a variety of jewels 
 and jacinths, white and red, and yellow and green ; 
 
22 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 and when I beheld this, I was struck with the 
 utmost wonder at it, and the sight astonished me. 
 I entered the fortifications in a state of terror and 
 with a wandering mind, and saw them to be of the 
 same large extent as the city, and to comprise 
 elevated pavilions, every one of these containing 
 lofty chambers, and all of them constructed of gold 
 and silver, and adorned with rubies and chrysolites 
 and pearls and various-coloured jewels. The fold- 
 ing-doors of these pavilions were like those of the 
 fortifications in beauty, and the floors were overlaid 
 with large pearls, and with balls like hazel-nuts, 
 composed of musk and ambergris and saffron. And 
 when I came into the midst of the city, I saw not 
 in it a created being of the sons of Adam ; and I 
 almost died of terror. I then looked down from 
 the summits of the lofty chambers and pavilions, 
 and saw rivers running beneath them ; and in the 
 great thoroughfare-streets of the city were fruit- 
 bearing trees and tall palm-trees. And the construc- 
 tion of the city was of alternate bricks of gold and 
 silver; so I said within myself, No doubt this is the 
 paradise promised in the world to come. 
 
 " I carried away of the jewels which were as its 
 gravel, and the musk that was as its dust, as much 
 as I could bear, and returned to my district, where 
 I acquainted the people with the occurrence. And 
 the news reached Mo'awiyeh, the son of Aboo 
 Sufydn (who was then Calii^h), in the Hejdz ; so he 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE TERRESTRIAL PARADISE. 23 
 
 wrote to his lieutenant in San'a of El- Yemen, say- 
 ing, 'Summon that man, and inquire of him the 
 truth of the matter ! ' His lieutenant therefore 
 caused me to be brought, and demanded of me an 
 account of my adventure, and of what had befallen 
 me ; and I informed him of what I had seen. He 
 then sent me to Mo'dwiyeh, and I acquainted him 
 also with that which I had seen, but he disbelieved 
 it ; so I produced to him some of those pearls and 
 the little balls of ambergris and musk and saffron. 
 The latter retained somewhat of their sweet scent ; 
 but the pearls had become yellow and discoloured. 
 
 " At the sight of these Mo'awiyeh wondered, and 
 he sent and caused Kaab el-Ahbar to be brousrht 
 before him, and said to him, ' Kaab el-Ahbar, I 
 have called thee on account of a matter of which I 
 desire to know the truth, and I hope that thou 
 may est be able to certify me of it.' ' And what is 
 it, Prince of the Faithful 1 ' asked Kaab el-Ahbar. 
 Mo'awiyeh said, ' Hast thou any knowledge of the 
 existence of a city constructed of gold and silver, 
 the pillars whereof are of chrysolite and ruby, and 
 the gravel of which is of pearls, and of balls like 
 hazel-nuts, composed of musk and ambergris and 
 saffron r He answered, 'Yes, Prince of the 
 Faithful! It is Irem Zat - el - 'Emdd, the like of 
 which hath never been constructed in the regions of 
 the earth; and Sheddad, the son of 'A'd the Greater, 
 built it.' 'Eelate to us,' said Mo'awiyeh, 'some- 
 
24 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 what of its history.' And Kaab el-Ahbdr replied 
 thus : — 
 
 " ' 'A'd the Greater had two sons, Shedeed and 
 Sheddad, and when their father perished they 
 reigned conjointly over the countries after him, and 
 there was no one of the kings of the earth who was 
 not subject to them. And Shedeed the son of 'A'd 
 died, so his brother Sheddad ruled alone over the 
 earth after him. He was fond of reading the 
 ancient books ; and when he met with the descrip- 
 tion of the world to come, and of paradise, Avith its 
 pavilions and lofty chambers, and its trees and 
 fruits, and of the other things in paradise, his heart 
 enticed him to construct its like on the earth, after 
 this manner which hath been above mentioned. He 
 had under his authority a hundred thousand kings, 
 under each of whom were a hundred thousand 
 valiant chieftains, and under each of these were a 
 hundred thousand soldiers. And he summoned them 
 all before him, and said to them, " I find in the 
 ancient books and histories the description of the 
 paradise that is in the other world, and I desire to 
 make its like upon the earth. Depart ye therefore 
 to the most pleasant and most spacious vacant tract 
 in the earth, and build for me in it a city of gold 
 and silver, and spread, as its gravel, chrysolites and 
 rubies and pearls, and as the supports of the vaulted 
 roofs of that city make columns of chrysolite, and 
 fill it with pavilions, and over the pavilions con- 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE TERRESTRIAL PARADISE. 25 
 
 struct lofty chambers, and beneath them plant, 
 in the by-streets and great-thoroughfare streets, 
 varieties of trees bearing different kinds of ripe 
 fruits, and make rivers to run beneath them in 
 channels of gold and silver." To this they all re- 
 plied, " How can we accomplish that which thou hast 
 described to us, and how can we procure the 
 chrysolites and rubies and pearls that thou hast 
 mentioned ? " But he said, " Know ye not that the 
 kings of the world are obedient to me, and under 
 my authority, and that no one wdio is in it dis- 
 obeyeth my command 1 " They answered, " Yes, we 
 know that." " Depart then," said he, " to the mines 
 of chrysolite and ruby, and to the places where 
 pearls are found, and gold and silver, and take 
 forth and collect their contents from the earth, and 
 spare no exertions. Take also for me, from the 
 hands of me, such of those things as ye find, and 
 spare none, nor let any escape you ; and beware of 
 disobedience ! " 
 
 " ' He then wrote a letter to each of the kino-s in 
 
 o 
 
 the regions of the earth, commanding them to 
 collect all the articles of the kinds above mentioned 
 that their subjects possessed, and to repair to the 
 mines in which these things were found, and extract 
 the precious stones that they contained, even from 
 the beds of the seas. And they collected the things 
 that he required in the space of twenty years; after 
 which he sent forth the geometricians and sages, 
 
26 ORIENTAL FOLKLOEE TALES. 
 
 and labourers and artificers, from all the countries 
 and regions, and they dispersed themselves through 
 the deserts and wastes, and tracts and districts, 
 until they came to a desert wherein was a vast open 
 plain, clear from hills and mountains, and in it were 
 springs gushing forth, and rivers running. So they 
 said, " This is the kind of place which the king 
 commanded us to seek, and called us to find." They 
 then busied themselves in building the city accord- 
 ing to the direction of the King Sheddad, king of 
 the whole earth, in its length and breadth; and 
 they made through it the channels for the rivers, 
 and laid the foundations conformably with the pre- 
 scribed extent. The kings of the various districts 
 of the earth sent thither the jewels and stones, and 
 large and small pearls, and carnelian and pure gold, 
 upon camels over the deserts and wastes, and sent 
 great ships with them over the seas ; and a quantity 
 of those things, such as cannot be described nor 
 calculated nor defined, was brought to the work- 
 men, who laboured in the construction of this city 
 three hundred years. And when they had fi.nished 
 it, they came to the king and acquainted him with 
 the completion ; and he said to them, " Depart, and 
 make around it impregnable fortifications of great 
 height, and construct around the circuit of the 
 fortifications a thousand pavilions, each with a 
 thousand pillars beneath it, in order that there may 
 be in each pavilion a vizier." So they went imme- 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE TERRESTRIAL PARADISE. 27 
 
 diately, and did this in twenty years ; after which 
 they presented themselves before Shedddd, and in- 
 formed him of the accomplishment of his desire. 
 
 " ' He therefore ordered his viziers, who were a 
 thousand in number, and his chief officers, and such 
 of his troops and others as he confided in, to make 
 themselves ready for departure, and to prepare 
 themselves for removal to Irem Zat-el-'Emad, in 
 attendance upon the king of the world, Sheddad, the 
 son of 'A'd. He ordered also such as he chose of 
 his women and his hareem, as his female slaves and 
 his eunuchs, to fit themselves out. And they passed 
 twenty years in equipping themselves. Then 
 Sheddad proceeded with his troops, rejoiced at the 
 accomplishment of his desire, until there remained 
 between him and Irem Zat-el-'Emad one day's 
 journey, when God sent down upon him and upon 
 the obstinate infidels who accompanied him a loud 
 cry from the heaven of His power, and it destroyed 
 them all by the vehemence of its sound. Neither 
 Sheddad nor any of those who were with him 
 arrived at the city, or came in sight of it, and God 
 obliterated the traces of the road that led to it, but 
 the city remaineth as it was in its place until the 
 hour of the judgment !' 
 
 " At this narrative, related by Kaab el-Ahbar, 
 Mo'awiyeh wondered, and he said to him, ^ Can any 
 one of mankind arrive at that cityf 'Yes,' an- 
 swered Kaab el-Ahbdr ; * a man of the companions 
 
28 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 of Mohammed (upon whom be blessing and peace !), 
 in appearance like this man who is sitting here, 
 without any doubt.' Esh-Shaabee also saith, ' It is 
 related, on the authority of the learned men of 
 Hemyer, in El- Yemen, that when Shed dad and those 
 who were with him were destroyed by the loud cry, 
 his son Sheddad the Less reigned after him ; for his 
 father, Sheddad the Greater, had left him as successor 
 to his kingdom, in the land of Hadramot and Seba, 
 on his departure with the troops who accompanied 
 him to Irem Zat-el-'Emad. And as soon as the 
 news reached him of the death of his father, on the 
 way before his arrival at the city of Irem, he gave 
 orders to carry his father's body from those desert 
 tracts to Hadram6t, and to excavate the sepulchre 
 for him in a cavern. And when they had done this, 
 he placed his body in it, upon a couch of gold, and 
 covered the corpse with seventy robes, interwoven 
 with gold and adorned with precious jewels ; and he 
 placed at his head a tablet of gold, whereon were 
 inscribed these verses : — 
 
 " ' Be admonislied, thou who art deceived by a pro- 
 longed life ! 
 
 I am Sheddad, the son of 'A'd, the lord of a strong 
 fortress, 
 
 The lord of power and might, and of excessive v^alour. 
 
 The inhabitants of the earth obeyed me, fearing my 
 severity and threats ; 
 
 And I held the east and west under a strong dominion. 
 
 And a preacher of the true religion invited us to the 
 right way ; 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE TERRESTEIAL PARADISE. 29 
 
 But we opposed him, and said, Is there no refuge from 
 
 it? 
 And a loud cry assaulted us from a tract of the distant 
 
 horizon ; 
 Whereupon we fell down like corn in the midst of a 
 
 plain at harvest ; 
 And now, beneath the earth, we await the threatened 
 
 day.' 
 
 " Etli-Thaalibee also saith, ' It happened that two 
 men entered this cavern, and found at its upper end 
 some steps, and having descended these, they found 
 an excavation, the length whereof was a hundred 
 cubits, and its breadth forty cubits, and its height a 
 hundred cubits. And in the midst of this excava- 
 tion was a, couch of gold, upon which was a man of 
 enormous bulk, occupying its whole length and 
 breadth, covered with ornaments and with robes 
 interwoven with gold and silver ; and at his head 
 was a tablet of gold, whereon was an inscription. 
 And they took that tablet, and carried away from 
 the place as much as they could of bars of gold and 
 silver and other things.' " 
 
THE TOMB OF NOOSHEERWAN. 
 
 The caliph Haroon-oor-Rasheed went to visit the 
 tomb of the celebrated Noosheerwan, the most 
 famous of all the monarchs who ever governed 
 Persia. Before the tomb was a curtain of gold 
 cloth, which, when Haroon touched it^ fell to pieces. 
 The walls of the tomb were covered with gold and 
 jewels, whose splendour illumined its darkness. The 
 body was placed in a sitting posture on a throne 
 enchased with jewels, and had so much the 
 appearance of life that, on the first impulse, 
 the Commander of the Faithful bent to the 
 ground, and saluted the remains of the just Noo- 
 sheerwan. 
 
 Though the face of the departed monarch was like 
 that of a living man, and the whole of the body in 
 a state of preservation, which showed the admirable 
 skill of those who embalmed it, yet when the caliph 
 touched the garments they mouldered into dust. 
 Haroon upon this took his own rich robes and threw 
 them over the corpse ; he also hung up a new cur- 
 tain richer than that he had destroyed, and per- 
 
THE TOMB OF NOOSHEERWAN. 31 
 
 fumed the whole tomb with camphor, and other 
 sweet scents. 
 
 It was remarked that no change was perceptible 
 in the body of Noosheerwan, except that the ears 
 had become white. The whole scene affected the 
 caliph greatly; he burst into tears, and repeated 
 from the Koran — " What I have seen is a warning 
 to those who have eyes." He observed some writ- 
 ing upon the throne, which he ordered the Moobids 
 (priests), who were learned in the Pehlevee language, to 
 read and explain. They did so : it was as follows : — 
 
 " This world remains not ; the man who thinks least of it 
 is the wisest. 
 
 " Enjoy this world before thou becomest its prey. 
 
 " Bestow the same favour on those below thee as thou 
 desirest to receive from those above thee. 
 
 " If thou shouldst conquer the whole world, death will at 
 last conquer thee. 
 
 " Be careful that thou art not the dupe of thine own for- 
 tune. 
 
 " Thou shalt be paid exactly for what thou hast done ; 
 no more, no less." 
 
 The caliph observed a dark ruby-ring on the finger 
 of Noosheerwan, on which was written — 
 
 " Avoid cruelty, study good, and never be precipitate in 
 action. 
 
 " If thou shouldst live for a hundred years, never for one 
 moment forget death, 
 
 " Value above aU things the society of the wise." 
 
 Around the right arm of Noosheerwan was a clasp 
 of gold, on which was engraved — 
 
 '*0n a certain year, on the 10th day of the month Erde- 
 
32 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 behisht, a caliph of the race of Adean, professing tLe faitli of 
 Mahomed, accompanied by four good men, and one bad, 
 shall visit my tomb," 
 
 Below this sentence were the names of the fore- 
 fathers of the caliph. Another prophecy was added 
 concerning Haroon's pilgrimage to Noosheerwan's 
 tomb. 
 
 "This priuce will honour me, and do good unto me, 
 though I have no claim upon him ; and he will clothe me in 
 a new vest, and besprinkle my tomb with sweet-scented 
 essences, and then depart unto his home. But the bad man 
 who accompanies him shall act treacherously towards me. 
 I pray that God may send one of my race to repay the great 
 favours of the caliph, and to take vengeance on his un- 
 worthy companion. There is, under my throne, an inscrip- 
 tion which the caliph must read and contemplate. Its 
 contents will remind him of me, and make him pardon my 
 inability to give him more." 
 
 The caliph, on hearing this, put his hand under 
 the throne, and found the inscription, which con- 
 sisted of some lines, inscribed on a ruby as large as 
 the palm of the hand. The Moobids read this also. 
 It contained information Avhere would be found con- 
 cealed a treasure of gold and arms, with some caskets 
 of rich jewels ; under this was written — 
 
 " These I give to the caliph in return for the good he has 
 done me ; let him take them and be happy." 
 
 When Haroon-oor-Easheed was about to leave the 
 tomb, Hoosein-ben-Sahil, his vizier, said to him : 
 " Lord of the Faithful, w^hat is the use of all these 
 
THE TOMB OF NOOSHEERWAN. 33 
 
 precious gems which ornament the abode of the 
 dead, and are of no benefit to the living? Allow 
 me to take some of them." The caliph replied with 
 indignation, " Such a wish is more worthy of a thief 
 than of a great or wise man." Hoosein was ashamed 
 of his speech, and said to the servant who had been 
 placed at the entrance of the tomb, " Go thou, and 
 worship the holy shrine within." The man went 
 into the tomb ; he was above a hundred years old, 
 but he had never seen such a blaze of wealth. He 
 felt inclined to plunder some of it, but was at first 
 afraid ; at last, summoning all his courage, he took 
 a ring from the finger of Noosheerwan, and came 
 away. 
 
 Haroon saw this man come out, and observing 
 him alarmed, he at once conjectured what he had 
 been doing. Addressing those around him, he said, 
 " Do not you now see the extent of the knowledge 
 of Noosheerwan ? He prophesied that there should 
 be one unworthy man with me. It is this fellow. 
 What have you taken 1 " said he, in an angry tone. 
 " Nothing," said the man. " Search him," said the 
 caliph. It was done, and the ring of Noosheerwan 
 was found. This the caliph immediately took, and, 
 entering the tomb, replaced it on the cold finger of 
 the deceased monarch. AVhen he returned, a 
 terrible sound like that of loud thunder was heard. 
 
 Haroon came down from the mountain on which 
 the tomb stood, and ordered the road to be made 
 
 Oriental r* 
 
34 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 Id accessible to future curiosity. He searched for, 
 and found, in the place described, the gold, the 
 arms, and the jewels bequeathed to him by Noo- 
 sheerwan, and sent them to Bagdad. 
 
 Among the rich articles found was a golden 
 crown, which had five sides, and was richly orna- 
 mented with precious stones. On every side a 
 number of admirable lessons were written. The 
 most remarkable were as follows : — 
 
 First side. 
 
 " Give my regards to those who know themselves. 
 
 " Consider the end before you begin, and before j^ou 
 advance provide a retreat. 
 
 " Give not unnecessary pain to any man, but study the 
 happiness of all. 
 
 "Ground not your dignity upon your power to hurt 
 others." 
 
 Second side. 
 
 "Take counsel before you commence any measure, and 
 never trust its execution to the inexperienced. 
 
 " Sacrifice your property for your life, and your life for 
 your religion. 
 
 " Spend your time in establishing a good name ; and if 
 you desire fortune, learn contentment." 
 
 Third side. 
 
 " Grieve not for that which is broken, stolen, burnt, or 
 lost. 
 
 " Never give orders in another man's house ; and accustom 
 yourself to eat your bread at your own table. 
 
 " Make not yourself the cajitive of women." 
 
THE TOMB OF NOOSHEERWAN. 35 
 
 Fourth side. 
 
 " Take not a wife from a bad family, and seat not thyself 
 with those who have no shame. 
 
 " Keep thyself at a distance from those who are incorri- 
 gible in bad habits, and hold no intercourse with that man 
 who is insensible to kindness. 
 
 " Covet not the goods of others. 
 
 " Be guarded with monarchs, for they are like fire which 
 blazeth but destroyeth. 
 
 " Be sensible to your own value ; estimate justly the 
 worth of others ; and war not with those who are far above 
 thee in fortune." 
 
 Fifth side. 
 
 " Fear kings, women, and poets. 
 
 " Be envious of no man, and habituate not thyself to 
 search after the faults of others. 
 
 "Make it a habit to be happy, and avoid being out of 
 temper, or thy life will pass in misery. 
 
 * ' Respect and protect the females of thy family. 
 
 " Be not the slave of anger ; and in thy contests always 
 leave open the door of conciliation. 
 
 " Never let your expenses exceed your income. 
 
 " Plant a young tree, or you cannot expect to cut down 
 an old one. 
 
 "Stretch your legs no further than the size of your 
 carpet." 
 
 The caliph Haroon-oor-Rasheed was more pleased 
 with the admirable maxims inscribed on this crown 
 than with all the treasures he had found. " Write 
 these precepts," he exclaimed, "in a book, that the 
 faithful may eat of the fruit of wisdom." When he 
 returned to Bagdad, he related to his favourite 
 vizier, Jaffier Bermekee, and his other chief officers, 
 
36 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 all that had passed ; and the shade of Noosheerwan 
 was propitiated by the disgrace of Hoosein-ben-Sahil 
 (who had recommended despoiling his tomb), and 
 the exemplary punishment of the servant who had 
 committed the sacrilegious act of taking the ring 
 from the finger of the departed monarch. 
 
AMEEN AND THE GHOOL. 
 
 There is a dreadful place in Persia called the 
 "Valley of the Angel of Death." That terrific 
 minister of God's wrath, according to tradition, has 
 resting-places upon the earth and his favourite 
 abodes. He is surrounded by ghools, horrid beings 
 who, when he takes away life, feast upon the 
 carcasses. 
 
 The natural shape of these monsters is terrible ; 
 but they can assume those of animals, such as cows 
 or camels, or whatever they choose, often appearing 
 to men as their relations or friends, and then they 
 do not only transform their shapes, but their voices 
 also are altered. The frightful screams and yells 
 which are often heard amid these dreaded ravines 
 are changed for the softest and most melodious 
 notes. Unwary travellers, deluded by the appearance 
 of friends, or captivated by the forms and charmed 
 by the music of these demons, are allured from their 
 path, and after feasting for a few hours on every 
 luxury, are consigned to destruction. 
 
 The number of these ghools has greatly decreased 
 
 37 
 
38 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 since the birth of the Prophet, and they have no 
 power to hurt those who pronounce his name in 
 sincerity of faith. These creatures are the very- 
 lowest of the supernatural world, and, besides being 
 timid, are extremely stupid, and consequently often 
 imposed upon by artful men. 
 
 The natives of Isfahan, though not brave, are the 
 most crafty and acute people upon earth, and often 
 supply the want of courage by their address. An 
 inliabitant of that city was once compelled to travel 
 alone at night through this dreadful valley. He 
 was a man of ready wit, and fond of adventures, 
 and, though no lion, had great confidence in his 
 cunning, which had brought him through a hundred 
 scrapes and perils that would have embarrassed or 
 destroyed your simple man of valour. 
 
 This man, whose name was Ameen Beg, had 
 heard many stories of the ghools of the " Valley of 
 the Angel of Death," and thought it likely he might 
 meet one. He prepared accordingly, by putting an 
 egg and a lump of salt in his pocket. He had not 
 gone far amidst the rocks, when he heard a voice 
 crying, " Holloa, Ameen Beg Isfahanee ! you are 
 going the wrong road, you will lose yourself; come 
 this way. I am your friend Kerreem Beg ; I know 
 your father, old Kerbela Beg, and the street in 
 which you were born." Ameen knew well the 
 power the ghools had of assuming the shape of any 
 person they choose ; and he also knew their skill as 
 
AMEEN AND THE GHOOL. 39 
 
 genealogists, and their knowledge of towns as well 
 as families ; he had therefore little doubt this was 
 one of those creatures alluring him to destruction. 
 He, however, determined to encounter him, and 
 trust to his art for his escape. 
 
 " Stop, my friend, till I come near you," was his 
 reply. When Ameen came close to the ghool, he 
 said, " You are not my friend Kerreem ; you are a 
 lying demon, but you are just the being I desired to 
 meet. I have tried my strength against all the men 
 and all the beasts which exist in the natural world, 
 and I can find nothing that is a match for me. I 
 came therefore to this valley in the hope of en- 
 countering a ghool, that I might prove my prowess 
 upon him." 
 
 The ghool, astonished at being addressed in this 
 manner, looked keenly at him, and said, " Son of 
 Adam, you do not appear so strong." "Appear- 
 ances are deceitful," replied Ameen, " but I will 
 give you a proof of my strength. There," said he, 
 picking up a stone from a rivulet, " this contains a 
 fluid ; try if you can so squeeze it that it will flow 
 out." The ghool took the stone, but, after a short 
 attempt, returned it, saying, " The thing is impos- 
 sible." " Quite ealy," said the Isfahanee, taking the 
 stone and placing it in the hand in which he had 
 before put the egg. " Look there ! " And the 
 astonished ghool, while he heard what he took for 
 the breaking of the stone, saw the liquid run from 
 
40 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 between Ameen's fingers, and this apparently with- 
 out any effort, 
 
 Ameen, aided by the darkness, placed the stone 
 upon the ground while he picked up another of a 
 darker hue. " This," said he, " I can see contains 
 salt, as you will find if you can crumble it between 
 j^our fingers;" but the ghool, looking at it, con- 
 fessed he had neither knowledge to discover its 
 qualities nor strength to break it. " Give it me," 
 said his companion impatiently; and, having put 
 it into the same hand with the piece of salt, he 
 instantly gave the latter all crushed to the ghool, 
 who, seeing it reduced to powder, tasted it, and 
 remained in stupid astonishment at the skill and 
 strength of this wonderful man. Neither was he 
 without alarm lest his strength should be exerted 
 against himself, and he saw no safety in resorting 
 to the shape of a beast, for Ameen had warned him 
 that if he commenced any such unfair dealing, he 
 would instantly slay him ; for ghools, though long- 
 lived, are not immortal. 
 
 Under such circumstances he thought his best 
 plan was to conciliate the friendship of his new 
 companion till he found an opportunity of destroy- 
 ing him. 
 
 " Most wonderful man," he said, " will you honour 
 my abode with your presence 1 it is quite at hand : 
 there you will find every refreshment; and after a com- 
 fortable night's rest you can resume your journey." 
 
AMEEN AND THE GHOOL. 41 
 
 "I have no objection, friend ghool, to accept 
 your offer ; but, mark me, I am, in the first place, 
 very passionate, and must not be provoked by any 
 expressions which are in the least disrespectful; 
 and, in the second, I am full of penetration, and 
 can see through your designs as clearly as I saw 
 into that hard stone in which I discovered salt. So 
 take care you entertain none that are wicked, or 
 you shall suffer." 
 
 The ghool declared that the ear of his guest should 
 be pained by no expression to which it did not befit 
 his dignity to listen ; and he swore by the head of 
 his liege lord, the Angel of Death, that he would 
 faithfully respect the rights of hospitality and friend- 
 ship. 
 
 Thus satisfied, Ameen followed the ghool through 
 a number of crooked paths, rugged cliffs, and deep 
 ravines, till they came to a large cave, which was 
 dimly lighted. "Here," said the ghool, "I dwell, 
 and here my friend will find all he can want for 
 refreshment and repose." So saying, he led him to 
 various apartments, in which were hoarded every 
 species of grain, and all kinds of merchandise, 
 plundered from travellers who had been deluded to 
 this den, and of whose fate Ameen was too well 
 informed by the bones over which he now and then 
 stumbled, and by the putrid smell produced by some 
 half-consumed carcasses. 
 
 " This will be sufficient for your supper, I hope," 
 
42 ORIENTAL FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 said the ghool, taking up a large bag of rice ; " a 
 man of your prowess must have a tolerable appetite." 
 "True," said Ameen, "but I ate a sheep and as 
 much rice as you have there before I proceeded on 
 my journey. I am, consequently, not hungry, but 
 will take a little lest I offend your hospitalit3^" 
 " I must boil it for you," said the demon ; " you do 
 not eat grain and meat raw, as we do. Here is a 
 kettle," said he, taking up one lying amongst the 
 plundered property. " I will go and get wood for a 
 fire, while you fetch water with that," pointing to a 
 bag made of the hides of six oxen. 
 
 Ameen waited till he saw his host leave the cave 
 for the wood, and then with great difficulty he 
 dragged the enormous bag to the bank of a dark 
 stream, which issued from the rocks at the other 
 end of the cavern, and, after being visible for a few 
 yards, disappeared underground. 
 
 " How shall I," thought Ameen, " prevent my 
 weakness being discovered 1 This bag I could hardly 
 manage when empty; when full, it would require 
 twenty strong men to carry it ; what shall I do ? I 
 shall certainly be eaten up by this cannibal ghool, 
 who is now only kept in order by the impression of 
 my great strength." After some minutes' reflection 
 the Isfahanee thought of a scheme, and began 
 digging a small channel from the stream towards 
 the place where his supper was preparing. 
 
 " What are you doing ? " vociferated the ghool. as 
 
AMEEN AND THE GHOOL. 43 
 
 he advanced towards him ; " I sent you for water to 
 boil a little rice, and you have been an hour about 
 it. Cannot you fill the bag and bring it away 1 " 
 " Certainly I can," said Ameen ; " if I were content, 
 after all your kindness, to show my gratitude merely 
 by feats of brute strength, I could lift your stream 
 if you had a bag large enough to hold it. But here," 
 said he, pointing to the channel he had begun, — 
 " here is the commencement of a work in which the 
 mind of a man is employed to lessen the labour of 
 his body. This canal, small as it may appear, will 
 carry a stream to the other end of the cave, in 
 which I will construct a dam that you can open and 
 shut at pleasure, and thereby save yourself infinite 
 trouble in fetching water. But pray let me alone 
 till it is finished," and he began to dig. " Nonsense! " 
 said the ghool, seizing the bag and filling it; "I 
 will carry the w^ater myself, and I advise you to 
 leave off" your canal, as you call it, and follow me, 
 that you may eat your supper and go to sleep ; you 
 may finish this fine work, if you like it, to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 Ameen congratulated himself on this escape, and 
 was not slow in taking the advice of his host. 
 After having ate heartily of the supper that was 
 prepared, he went to repose on a bed made of the 
 richest coverlets and pillows, which were taken from 
 one of the store-rooms of plundered goods. The 
 ghool, whose bed was also in the cave, had no sooner 
 
44 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 laid down than he fell into a sound sleep. The 
 anxiety of Ameen's mind prevented him from 
 following his example ; he rose gently, and having 
 stuffed a long pillow into the middle of his bed, 
 to make it appear as if he was still there, he retired 
 to a concealed place in the cavern to watch the 
 proceedings of the ghool. The latter awoke a short 
 time before daylight, and rising, went, without 
 making any noise, towards Ameen's bed, where, not 
 observing the least stir, he was satisfied that his 
 guest was in a deep sleep ; so he took up one of his 
 walking-sticks, which was in size like the trunk of 
 a tree, and struck a terrible blow at what he sup- 
 posed to be Ameen's head. He smiled not to hear 
 a groan, thinking he had deprived him of life ; but 
 to make sure of his work, he repeated the blow 
 seven times. He then returned to rest, but had 
 hardly settled himself to sleep, when Ameen, who 
 had crept into the bed, raised his head above the 
 clothes and exclaimed, " Friend ghool, what insect 
 could it be that has disturbed me by its tapping 1 
 I counted the flap of its little wings seven times on 
 the coverlet. These vermin are very annoying, for, 
 though they cannot hurt a man, they disturb his 
 rest ! " 
 
 The ghool's dismay on hearing Ameen speak at 
 all was great, but that was increased to perfect fright 
 when he heard him describe seven blows, any one of 
 which would have felled an elephant, as seven flaps 
 
AMEEN AND THE GHOOL. 45 
 
 of an insect's wing. There was no safety, he 
 thought, near so wonderful a man, and he soon 
 afterwards arose and fled from the cave, leaving the 
 Isfahan ee its sole master. 
 
 When Ameen found his host gone, he was at no 
 loss to conjecture the cause, and immediately began 
 to survey the treasures with which he was sur- 
 rounded, and to contrive means for removing them 
 to his home. 
 
 After examining the contents of the cave, and 
 arming himself with a matchlock, which had belonged 
 to some victim of the ghool, he proceeded to survey 
 the road. He had, however, only gone a short 
 distance when he saAv the ghool returning with a 
 large club in his hand, and accompanied by a fox. 
 Ameen's knowledge of the cunning animal instantly 
 led him to suspect that it had undeceived his 
 enemy, but his presence of mind did not forsake 
 him. "Take that," said he to the fox, aiming a 
 ball at him from his matchlock, and shooting him 
 through the head, — " Take that for your not perform- 
 ing my orders. That brute," said he, " promised to 
 bring me seven ghools, that I might chain them, and 
 carry them to Isfahan, and here he has only brought 
 you, who are already my slave." So saying, he 
 advanced towards the ghool ; but the latter had 
 already taken to flight, and by the aid of his club 
 bounded so rapidly over rocks and precipices that 
 he was soon out of sight. 
 
46 OEIENTAL FOLKLOEE TALES. 
 
 Ameen having well marked the path from the 
 cavern to the road, went to the nearest town and 
 hired camels and mules to remove the property he 
 had acquired. After making restitution to all who 
 remained alive to prove their goods, he became, from 
 what was unclaimed, a man of wealth, all of which 
 was owing to that wit and art which ever overcome 
 brute strength and courage. 
 
THE EELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 
 
 Glorified Nangasuna Garbi ! thou art radiant 
 within and without; the holy vessel of sublimity, 
 the fathomer of concealed thoughts, the second of 
 instructors, I bow before thee. What wonderful 
 adventures fell to the lot of Nangasuna, and to the 
 peaceful wandering Chan, and how instructive and 
 learned the Ssidi will be found, all this is 
 developed in thirteen pleasing narratives. 
 
 And I will first relate the origin of these tales : — 
 In the central kingdom of India there once lived 
 seven brothers, who were magicians ; and one berren 
 (a measure of distance) further dwelt two brothers, 
 who were sons of a Chan. Now the eldest of these 
 sons of the Chan betook himself to the magicians, 
 that he might learn their art ; but although he 
 studied under them for seven years, yet the 
 magicians taught him not the true key to magic. 
 
 And once upon a time it happened that the 
 youngest brother, going to bring food to the elder, 
 peeped through the opening of the door, and 
 obtained the key to magic. Thereupon, without 
 
48 ORIENTAL FOLKLOEE TALES. 
 
 delivering to the elder the food which he had 
 brought for him, he returned home to the palace. 
 Then said the younger son of the Chan to his 
 brother, "That we have learned magic, let us keep 
 to ourselves. We have in the stable a beautiful 
 horse ; take this horse, and ride not with him near 
 the dwelling-place of the magicians, but sell the 
 horse in their country, and bring back merchan- 
 dise." 
 
 And when he had said thus, he changed himself 
 into a horse. But the elder sou of the Chan heeded 
 not the words of his brother, but said unto himself : 
 " Full seven years have I studied magic, and as yet 
 have learned nothing. Where, then, has my young 
 brother found so beautiful a horse ? and how can I 
 refuse to ride thereon 1 " 
 
 With these words he mounted, but the horse 
 being impelled by the power of magic was not to be 
 restrained, galloped away to the dwelling-place of 
 the magicians, and could not be got from the door. 
 " Well, then, I will sell the horse to the magicians." 
 Thus thinking to himself, the elder called out to the 
 magicians, "Saw ye ever a horse like unto this? 
 My younger brother it was who found him." At 
 these words the magicians communed with one 
 another. " This is a magic horse ; if magic grow at 
 all common, there will be no wonderful art remain- 
 ing. Let us, therefore, take this horse and slay 
 him/' 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUE. 49 
 
 The magicians paid the price demanded for the 
 horse, and tied him in a stall ; and that he might 
 not escape out of their hands, they fastened him, 
 ready for slaughter, by the head, by the tail, and by 
 the feet. " Ah ! " thought the horse to himself, 
 *'my elder brother hearkened not unto me, and 
 therefore am I fallen into such hands. What form 
 shall I assume 1 " While the horse was thus 
 considering, he saw a fish swim by him in the 
 water, and immediately he changed himself into 
 a fish. 
 
 But the seven magicians became seven herons, 
 and pursued the fish, and were on the point of 
 catching it, when it looked up and beheld a dove in 
 the sky, and thereupon transformed itself into a 
 dove. The seven magicians now became seven 
 hawks, and followed the dove over mountains and 
 rivers, and would certainly have seized upon it, but 
 the dove, flying eastwards to the peaceful cave in 
 the rock Gulumtschi, concealed itself in the bosom 
 of Nangasuna Baktschi (the Instructor). Then the 
 seven hawks became seven beggars, and drew nigh 
 unto the rock Gulumtschi. "What may this import?" 
 bethought the Baktschi to himself, "that this dove 
 has fled hither pursued by seven hawks ? " Thus 
 thinking, the Baktschi said, "Wherefore, dove, 
 fliest thou hither in such alarm ? " Then the dove 
 related to him the cause of its flight, and spake 
 afterwards as follows : — " At the entrance to the 
 
 Oriental, -p. 
 
50 ORIENTAL FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 rock Gulumtschi stand seven beggars, and they will 
 come to the Baktschi and say, ' We pray thee give 
 us the rosary of the Baktschi ? ' Then will I trans- 
 form myself into the Bumba of the rosary ; let the 
 Baktschi then vouchsafe to take this Bumba into 
 his mouth and to cast the rosary from him." 
 
 Hereupon the seven beggars drew nigh, and the 
 Baktschi took the first bead into his mouth and the 
 rest he cast from him. The beads which w^ere cast 
 away then became worms, and the seven beggars 
 became fowls and ate up the worms. Then the 
 Baktschi let the first bead fall from his mouth, and 
 thereupon the first bead was transformed into a 
 man with a sword in his hand. When the seven 
 fowls were slain and become human corses, the 
 Baktschi was troubled in his soul, and said these 
 words, "Through my having preserved one single 
 man have seven been slain. Of a verity this is not 
 good." 
 
 To these words the other replied, " I am the Son of 
 a Chan. Since, therefore, through the preservation 
 of my life, several others have lost their lives, I will, 
 to cleanse me from my sins, and also to reward the 
 Baktschi, execute whatsoever he shall command me." 
 The Baktschi replied thereto, "Now, then, in the 
 cold Forest of Death there abides Ssidi Kur ; the 
 upper part of his body is decked with gold, the 
 lower is of brass, his head is covered with silver. 
 Seize him and hold him fast. Whosoever finds this 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 51 
 
 wonderful Ssidi Kur, him will I make for a thousand 
 years a man upon the earth." 
 
 Thus spake he, and the youth thereupon began 
 these words : " The way which I must take, the 
 food which I require, the means which I must 
 employ, all these vouchsafe to make known unto 
 me." To this the Baktschi replied, " It shall be as 
 thou demandest. At the distance of a berren (a 
 measure of distance) from this place you will come to 
 a gloomy forest, through which you will find there 
 runs only one narrow path. The place is full of 
 spirits. When thou reachest the spirits, they will 
 throng around you ; then cry ye with a loud voice, 
 ' Spirits, chu lu chu lu ssochi ! ' And when thou 
 hast spoken these words, they will all be scattered 
 like grain. AVhen thou hast proceeded a little 
 further, you will encounter a crowd of other spirits ; 
 then cry ye, ' Spirits, chu lu chu lu ssosi ! ' And a 
 little further on you will behold a crowd of child- 
 spirits : say unto these, ' Child-spirits, Ei ra pa 
 dra ! ' In the middle of this wood sits Ssidi Kur, 
 beside an amiri-tree. When he beholds you, he will 
 climb up it, but you must take the moon-axe, with 
 furious gestures draw nigh unto the tree, and bid 
 Ssidi Kur descend. To bring him away you will 
 require this sack, which would hold a hundred men. 
 To bind him fast this hundred fathoms of checkered 
 rope will serve you. This inexhaustible cake will 
 furnish thee with provender for thy journey. When 
 
52 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 thou hast got thy load upon thy back, wander then 
 on without speaking, until thou art returned home 
 again. Thy name is Son of the Chan ; and since 
 thou hast reached the peaceful rock Gulumtschi, 
 thou shalt be called the peaceful wandering Son of 
 the Chan." 
 
 Thus spake the Baktschi, and showed him the 
 way of expiation. When Ssidi Kur beheld his 
 pursuer, he speedily climbed up the amiri-tree, but 
 the Son of the Chan drew nigh unto the foot of the 
 tree, and spake with threatening words : " My 
 Baktschi is Nangasuna Garbi; mine axe is called 
 the white moon ; an inexhaustible cake is my pro- 
 vender. This sack, capable of holding a hundred 
 men, will serve to carry thee away, this hundred 
 fathoms of rope will serve to bind thee fast ; I my- 
 self am the peaceful wandering Son of the Chan. 
 Descend, or I will hew down the tree." 
 
 Then spake Ssidi Kur, " Do not hew down the 
 tree ; I will descend from it." 
 
 And when he had descended, the Son of the Chan 
 thrust him into the sack, tied the sack fast with the 
 rope, ate of the butter-cake, and wandered forth 
 many days with his burden. At length Ssidi Kur 
 said to the Son of the Chan, "Since our long 
 journey is wearisome unto us, I will tell a story unto 
 you, or do you relate one unto me." 
 
 The Son of the Chan kept on his way, however, 
 without speaking a word, and Ssidi began afresh. 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 53 
 
 '' If thou wilt tell a story, nod your head to me ; if I 
 shall relate one, then do you shake your head." 
 
 But because the Son of the Chan shook his head 
 from side to side, without uttering a word, Ssidi 
 began the following tale : — 
 
 The Adventures of the Eich Youth. 
 
 " In former times there lived, in a great kingdom, 
 a rich youth, a calculator, a mechanic, a painter, a 
 physician, and a smith, and they all departed from 
 their parents and went forth into a foreign land. 
 When they at length arrived at the mouth of a great 
 river, they planted, every one of them, a tree of life ; 
 and each of them, following one of the sources of 
 the river, set forth to seek their fortunes. ' Here,' 
 said they to one another, — ' here will we meet again. 
 Should, however, any one of us be missing, and his 
 tree of life be withered, we will search for him in 
 the place whither he went to.' 
 
 " Thus they agreed, and separated one from 
 another. And the rich youth found at the source 
 of the stream, which he had followed, a pleasure- 
 garden with a house, in the entrance to which were 
 seated an old man and an old woman. ' Good 
 youth,' exclaimed they both, 'whence comest thou— 
 whither goest thou ] ' The youth replied, ' I come 
 from a distant country, and am going to seek my 
 fortune.' And the old couple said unto him, ' It i§ 
 
54 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 well thou hast come hither. We have a daughter, 
 slender of shape and pleasant of behaviour. Take 
 her, and be a son unto us ! ' 
 
 "And when they had so spoken, the daughter 
 made her appearance. And when the youth beheld 
 her, he thought unto himself, ' It is well I left my 
 father and my mother. This maiden is more beau- 
 teous than a daughter of the Tangari (god-like spirits 
 of the male and female sex). I will take the maiden 
 and dwell here.' And the maiden said, 'Youth, it 
 is well that thou camest here.' Thereupon they 
 conversed together, went together into the house, 
 and lived peacefully and happily. 
 
 "Now, over the same country there reigned a 
 mighty Chan. And once in the spring-time, when 
 his servants went forth together to bathe, they 
 found, near the mouth of the river, in the water, a 
 pair of costly earrings, which belonged to the wife 
 of the rich youth. Because, therefore, these jewels 
 were so wondrously beautiful, they carried them to 
 the Chan, who, being greatly surprised thereat, said 
 unto his servants, 'Dwells there at the source of 
 the river a woman such as these belong to 1 Go, 
 and bring her unto me.' 
 
 "The servants went accordingly, beheld the 
 woman, and were amazed at the sight. 'This 
 woman,' said they to one another, ' one would never 
 tire of beholding.' But to the woman they said, 
 'Arise ! and draw nigh with us unto the Chan.' 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 55 
 
 " Hereupon the rich youth conducted his wife to 
 the presence of the Chan; but the Chan, when he 
 beheld her, exclaimed, ' This maiden is a Tangari, 
 compared with her, my wives are but ugly.' 
 
 Thus spake he, and he was so smitten with love 
 of her, that he would not let her depart from his 
 house. But as she remained true and faithful to 
 the rich youth, the Chan said unto his servants, 
 ' Remove this rich youth instantly out of my sight.' 
 
 "At these commands the servants went forth, 
 taking with them the rich youth, whom they led to 
 the water, where they laid him in a pit by the side 
 of the stream, covered him with a huge fragment of 
 the rock, and thus slew him. 
 
 " At length it happened that the other w^anderers 
 returned from all sides, each to his tree of life ; and 
 when the rich youth was missed, and they saw that 
 his tree of life was withered, they sought him up 
 the source of the river which he had followed, but 
 found him not. Hereupon the reckoner discovered, 
 by his calculations, that the rich youth was lying 
 dead under a piece of the rock ; but as they could 
 by no means remove the stone, the smith took his 
 hammer, smote the stone, and drew out the body. 
 Then the physician mixed a life-inspiring draught, 
 gave the same to the dead youth, and so restored 
 him to life. 
 
 " They now demanded of him whom they had 
 recalled to life, * In what manner wert thou slain *? ' ' 
 
56 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 He accordingly related unto them the circumstances ; 
 and they communed one with another, saying, ' Let 
 us snatch this extraordinary beautiful woman from 
 the Chan ! ' Thereupon the mechanic constructed a 
 wooden gerudin, or wonderful bird, which, when 
 moved upwards from within, ascended into the air ; 
 when moved downwards, descended into the earth ; 
 when moved sideways, flew sideways accordingly. 
 When this was done, they painted it with different 
 colours, so that it was pleasant to behold. 
 
 *' Then the rich youth seated himself within the 
 wooden bird, flew through the air, and hovered over 
 the roof of the royal mansion ; and the Chan and 
 his servants were astonished at the form of the bird, 
 and said, ' A bird like unto this we never before saw 
 or heard of And to his wife the Chan said, * Go 
 ye to the roof of the palace, and off'er food of 
 different kinds unto this strange bird.' When she 
 went up to off'er food, the bird descended, and the 
 rich youth opened the door which was in the bird. 
 Then said the wife of the Chan, full of joy, ' I had 
 never hoped or thought to have seen thee again, yet 
 now have I found thee once more. This has been 
 accomplished by this wonderful bird.' After the 
 youth had related to her all that had happened, he 
 said unto her, ' Thou art now the wife of the Chan — 
 but if your heart now yearns unto me, step thou into 
 this wooden gerudin, and we will fly hence through 
 the air, and for the future know care no more.' 
 
THE KELATIOXS OF SSIDI KUR. 57 
 
 "After these words the wife said, 'To the first 
 husband to whom destiny united me am I inclined 
 more than ever.' Having thus spoken they entered 
 into the wooden gerudin, and ascended into the sky. 
 The Chan beheld this, and said, 'Because I sent 
 thee up that thou mightest feed this beautiful bird, 
 thou hast betaken thyself to the skies.' Thus spake 
 he full of anger, and threw himself weeping on the 
 ground. 
 
 '■ The rich youth now turned the peg in the bird 
 downwards, and descended upon the earth close to 
 his companions. And when he stepped forth out of 
 the bird, his companions asked him, ' Hast thou 
 thoroughly accomplished all that thou didst desire ? ' 
 Thereupon his wife also stepped forth, and all who 
 beheld her became in love with her. 'You, my 
 companions,' said the rich youth, ' have brought help 
 unto me ; you have awakened me from death ; you 
 have afforded me the means of once more finding 
 my wife. Do not, I beseech you, rob me of my 
 charmer once again.' 
 
 " Thus spake he ; and the calculator began with 
 these words : — ' Had I not discovered by my calcula- 
 tion where thou wert lying, thou wouldst never 
 have recovered thy wife.' 
 
 " ' In vain,' said the smith, ' would the calculations 
 have been, had I not drawn thee out of the rock. 
 By means of the shattered rock it was that you 
 obtained your wife. Then your wife belongs to me.' 
 
58 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " ' A body,' said the physician, ' was drawn from 
 out of the shattered rock. That this body was 
 restored to life, and recovered his former wife, it 
 was my skill accomplished it. I, therefore, should 
 take the wife.' 
 
 " 'But for the wooden bird,' said the mechanic, ' no 
 one would ever have reached the wife. A numerous 
 host attend upon the Chan ; no one can approach the 
 house wherein he resides. Through my wooden bird 
 alone was the wife recovered. Let me, then, take her.' 
 
 " ' The wife,' said the painter, * never would have 
 carried food to a wooden bird ; therefore it was 
 only through my skill in painting that she was 
 recovered; I, therefore, claim her.' 
 
 "And when they had thus spoken, they drew 
 their knives and slew one another." 
 
 " Alas ! poor woman ! " exclaimed the son of the 
 Chan ; and Ssidi said, " Euler of Destiny, thou hast 
 spoken words : — Ssarwala missbrod jackzang ! " Thus 
 spake he, and burst from the sack through the air. 
 
 Thus Ssidi's first tale treated of the adventures of 
 the rich youth. 
 
 The Adventures of the Beggar's Son. 
 
 When the Son of the Chan arrived as before at 
 the cold Forest of Death, he exclaimed with threat- 
 ening gestures at the foot of the amiri-tree, " Thou 
 dead one, descend, or I will hew down the tree." 
 Ssidi descended. The son of Chan placed him in 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUE. 59 
 
 the sack, bound the sack fast with the rope, ate of 
 his provender, and journeyed forthwith his burden. 
 Then spake the dead one these words, " Since we 
 have a long journey before us, do you relate a 
 pleasant story by the way, or I will do so." But 
 the Son of the Chan merely shook his head without 
 speaking a word. Whereupon Ssidi commenced the 
 following tale : — 
 
 " A long time ago there was a mighty Chan who 
 was ruler over a country full of market-places. At 
 the source of the river which ran through it there 
 was an immense marsh, and in this marsh there 
 dwelt two crocodile-frogs, who would not allow the 
 water to run out of the marsh. And because there 
 came no water over their fields, every year did both 
 the good and the bad have cause to mourn, until 
 such times as a man had been given to the frogs for 
 the pests to devour. And at length the lot fell 
 upon the Chan himself to be an offering to them, 
 and needful as he was to the welfare of the king- 
 dom, denial availed him not ; therefore father and 
 son communed sorrowfully together, saying, ' Which 
 of us two shall go 1 ' 
 
 "I am an old man," said the father, ''and shall 
 leave no one to lament me. I will go, therefore. 
 Do you remain here, my son, and reign according as 
 it is appointed." 
 
 " ' Tangari,' exclaimed the son, ' verily this 
 is not as it should be ! Thou hast brought me up 
 with care, my father ! If the Chan and the wife 
 
60 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 of the Chan remain, what need is there of their son ? 
 I then will go, and be as a feast for the frogs.' 
 
 " Thus spake he, and the people walked sorrow- 
 fully round about him, and then betook themselves 
 back again. Now the son of the Chan had for his 
 companion the son of a poor man, and he went to 
 him and said, ' Walk ye according to the will of your 
 parents, and remain at home in peace and safety. 
 I am going, for the good of the kingdom, to serve 
 as a sacrifice to the frogs.' At these words the son 
 of the poor man said, weeping and lamenting, ' From 
 my youth up, Chan, thou hast carefully fostered 
 me. I will go with thee, and share thy fate." 
 
 " Then they both arose and went unto the frogs ; 
 and on the verge of the marsh they heard the yellow 
 frog and the blue frog conversing with one another. 
 And the frogs said, ' If the son of the Chan and his 
 companion did but know that if they only smote off 
 our heads with the sword, and the son of the Chan 
 consumed me, the yellow frog, and the son of the 
 poor man consumed thee, the blue frog, they would 
 both cast out from their mouths gold and brass, 
 then would the country be no longer compelled to 
 find food for frogs.' 
 
 " Now, because the son of the Chan understood all 
 sorts of languages, he comprehended the discourse 
 of the frogs, and he and his companion smote the 
 heads of the frogs with their swords ; and when 
 they had devoured the frogs, they threw out from 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUK. 61 
 
 their mouths gold and brass at their heart's pleasure. 
 Then said the wanderers, ' The frogs are both slain 
 — the course of the waters will be hemmed in no 
 more. Let us then turn back unto our own country.' 
 But the son of the Chan agreed not to this, and 
 said, ' Let us not turn back into our own country, 
 lest they say they are become spirits ; therefore it 
 is better that we journey further.' 
 
 " As they thereupon were walking over a moun- 
 tain, they came to a tavern, in which dwelt two 
 women, beautiful to behold — mother and daughter. 
 Then said they, ' We would buy strong liquor that 
 we might drink.' The wom.en replied, ' What have 
 ye to give in exchange for strong liquor 1 ' There- 
 upon each of them threw forth gold and brass, and 
 the women found pleasure therein, admitted them 
 into their dwelling, gave them liquor in abundance, 
 until they became stupid and slept, took from them 
 what they had, and then turned them out of doors.' 
 
 " Now v/hen they awoke the son of the Chan and 
 his companion travelled along a river and arrived 
 in a wood, where they found some children quarrel- 
 ling one with another. ' Wherefore,' inquired they, 
 * do you thus dispute ? ' 
 
 *' ' We have,' said the children, ' found a cap in 
 this wood, and every one desires to possess it.' 
 
 " ' Of what use is the cap 1 ' 
 
 "*The cap has this wonderful property, that 
 whosoever places it on his head can be seen neither 
 
62 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 by the Tangari, nor by men, nor by the Tschadkurrs ' 
 (evil spirits). 
 
 " 'Now go all of ye to the end of the forest and 
 run hither, and I will in the meanwhile keep the 
 cap, and give it to the first of you who reaches 
 me.' 
 
 "Thus spoke the son of the Chan; and the chil- 
 dren ran, but they found not the cap, for it was 
 upon the head of the Chan. * Even now it was 
 here,' said they, 'and now it is gone,' And after 
 they had sought for it, but without finding it, they 
 went away weeping. 
 
 " And the son of the Chan and his companion 
 travelled onwards, and at last they came to a forest 
 in which they found a body of Tschadkurrs quar- 
 relling one with another, and they said, ' Wherefore 
 do ye thus quarrel one with another ? ' 
 
 " ' I,' exclaimed each of them, ' have made my- 
 self master of these boots.' 
 
 " ' Of what use are these boots ? ' inquired the 
 son of the Chan. 
 
 " ' He who wears these boots,' replied the Tschad- 
 kurrs, ' is conveyed to any country wherein he wishes 
 himself.' 
 
 " ' Now,' answered the son of the Chan, ' go all of 
 you that way, and he who first runs hither shall 
 obtain the boots.' 
 
 "And the Tschadkurrs, when they heard these 
 words, ran as they were told ; but the son of the Chan 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUK. 63 
 
 had concealed the boots in the bosom of his com- 
 panion, who had the cap upon his head. And the 
 Tschadkurrs saw the boots no more ; they sought 
 them in vain, and went their way. 
 
 " And when they were gone, the prince and his 
 companion drew on each of them one of the boots, 
 and they wished themselves near the place of election 
 in a Chan's kingdom. They wished their journey, 
 laid themselves down to sleep, and on their awak- 
 ing in the morning they found themselves in the 
 hollow of a tree, right in the centre of the imperial 
 place of election. It was, moreover, a day for the 
 assembling of the people, to throw a Baling (a 
 sacred figure of dough or paste) under the guidance 
 of the Tangari. ' Upon whose head even the Baling 
 falls, he shall be our Chan.' Thus spake they as 
 they threw it up ; but the tree caught the Baling of 
 Destiny. * What means this ^ ' exclaimed they all 
 with one accord. ' Shall we have a tree for our 
 Chan 1 ' 
 
 " ' Let us examine,' cried they one to another, 
 * whether the tree concealeth any stranger.' And when 
 they approached the tree the son of the Chan and 
 his companion stepped forth. But the people stood 
 yet in doubt, and said one to another thus, ' Whoso- 
 ever ruleth over the people of this land, this shall be 
 decided to-morrow morning by what proceedeth 
 from their mouths.' And when they had thus 
 spoken, they all took their departure. 
 
6-1: ORIENTAL FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 " On the following morning some drank water, 
 and what they threw from their mouths was white ; 
 others ate grass, and what they threw from their 
 months was green. In short, one threw one thing, 
 and another another thing. But because the son 
 of the Chan and his companion cast out from their 
 mouths gold and brass, the people cried, ' Let the 
 one be Chan of this people — let the other be his 
 minister.' Thus were they nominated Chan and 
 minister ! And the daughter of the former Chan 
 was appointed the wife of the new Chan. 
 
 " Now in the neighbourhood of the palace wherein 
 the Chan dwelt was a lofty building, whither the 
 wife of the Chan betook herself every day. ' Where- 
 fore/ thought the minister, 'does the wife of the 
 Chan betake herself to this spot every day % ' Thus 
 thinking, he placed the wonderful cap upon his head, 
 and followed the Chan's wife through the open 
 doors, up one step after another, up to the roof. 
 Here the wife of the Chan gathered together silken 
 coverlets and pillows, made ready various drinks and 
 delicate meats, and burnt for their perfume tapers 
 and frankincense. The minister being concealed by 
 his cap, which made him invisible, seated himself 
 by the side of the Chan's wife, and looked around 
 on every side, 
 
 " Shortly afterwards a beautiful bird swept through 
 the sky. The wife of the Chan received it with 
 fragrance-giving tapers. The bird seated itself 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 65 
 
 upon the roof and twittered with a pleasing voice ; 
 but out of the bird came Solangdu, the Son of the 
 T^ngari, whose beauty w^as incomparable, and he 
 laid himself on the silken coverlets and fed of the 
 dainties prepared for him. Then spake the son of 
 the Tangari, ' Thou hast passed this morning with 
 the husband whom thy fate has allotted to thee. 
 What thinkest thou of him 1 ' The wife of the Chan 
 answered, ' I know too little of the prince to speak 
 of his good qualities or his defects.' Thus passed 
 the day, and the wife of the Chan returned home 
 again. 
 
 " On the following day the minister followed the 
 wife of the Chan as he had done before, and heard 
 the son of the Tangari say unto her, ' To-morrow I 
 will come like a bird of Paradise to see thine 
 husband.' And the wife of the Chan said, *Be 
 it so.' 
 
 " The day passed over, and the minister said to 
 the Chan, 'In yonder palace lives Solangdu, the 
 beauteous son of the Tangari.' The minister then 
 related all that he had witnessed, and said, ' To- 
 morrow early the son of the Tangari will seek thee, 
 disguised like a bird of Paradise. I will seize the 
 bird by the tail, and cast him into the fire ; but you 
 must smite him in pieces with the sword.' 
 
 "On the following morning, the Chan and the 
 wife of the Chan were seated together, when the 
 son of the Tangari, transformed into a bird of 
 
 Oriental. ^ 
 
Q6 . ORIENTAL FOLKLOEE TALES. 
 
 Paradise, appeared before them on the steps that 
 led to the palace. The wife of the Chan greeted 
 the bird with looks expressive of pleasure, but the 
 minister, who had on his invisible-making cap, 
 seized the bird suddenly by the tail, and cast him 
 into the fire. And the Chan smote at Irim violently 
 with his sword ; but the wife of the Chan seized 
 the hand of her husband, so that only the wings of 
 the bird were scorched. ' Alas, poor bird ! ' ex- 
 claimed the wife of the Chan, as, half dead, it made 
 its way, as well as it could, through the air. 
 
 " On the next morning the wife of the Chan 
 went as usual to the lofty building, and this time, 
 too, did the minister follow her. She collected to- 
 gether, as usual, the silken pillows, but waited 
 longer than she was wont, and sat watching with 
 staring eyes. At length the bird approached with 
 a very sIoav flight, and came down from the bird- 
 'house covered with blood and wounds, and the wife 
 of the Chan wept at the sight. ' Weep not,' said 
 the son of the Tangari ; ' thine husband has a heavy 
 hand. The fire has so scorched me that I can 
 never come more.' 
 
 " Thus spoke he, and the wife of the Chan re- 
 plied, * Do not say so, but come as you are wont to 
 do, at least come on the day of the full moon.' 
 Then the son of the Tangari flew up to the sky 
 again, and the wife of the Chan began from that 
 time to love her husband with her whole heart. 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 67 
 
 "Then the minister placed his wonderful cap 
 upon his head, and, drawing near to a pagoda, he 
 saw, through the crevice of the door, a man, who 
 spread out a figure of an ass, rolled himself over 
 and over upon the figure, thereupon took upon him- 
 self the form of an ass, and ran up and down bray- 
 ing like one. Then he began rolling afresh, and 
 appeared in his human form. At last he folded up 
 the paper, and placed it in the hand of a burchan 
 (a Calmuc idol). And when the man came out the 
 minister went in, procured the paper, and remem- 
 bering the ill-treatment which he had formerly re- 
 ceived, he went to the mother and daughter who 
 had sold him the strong liquor, and said, with 
 crafty words, ' I am come to you to reward you for 
 your good deeds.' With these words he gave the 
 women three pieces of gold ; and the women asked 
 him, saying, ' Thou art, indeed, an honest man, but 
 where did you procure so much gold 1 ' Then the 
 minister answered, 'By merely rolling backwards 
 and forwards over this paper did I procure this 
 gold.' On hearing these words, the women said, 
 'Grant us that we too may roll upon it.' And 
 they did so, and were changed into asses. And the 
 minister brought the asses to the Chan, and the 
 Chan said, 'Let them be employed in carrying 
 stones and earth.' 
 
 " Thus spake he, and for three years were these 
 two asses compelled to carry stones and earth ; and 
 
68 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 their backs were sore wounded, and covered with 
 bruises. Then saw the Chan their eyes filled with 
 tears, and he said to the minister, 'Torment the 
 poor brutes no longer.' 
 
 "Thereupon they rolled upon the paper, and 
 after they had done so they were changed to two 
 shrivelled women." 
 
 "Poor creatures!" exclaimed the Son of the Chan. 
 Ssidi replied, " Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken 
 words : Ssarwala missdood jakzank ! " Thus spoke 
 he, and flew out of the sack through the air. 
 
 And Ssidi's second relation treats of the adven- 
 tures of the Poor Man's Son, 
 
 The Adventures of Massang. 
 
 When the Son of the Chan arrived at the foot of 
 the amiri-tree, and spoke as he had formerly done, 
 Ssidi approached him, sufl*ered himself to be placed 
 in the sack, fastened with the rope, and carried 
 away. Ssidi spoke as before, but the Son of the 
 Chan shook his head, whereupon Ssidi began as 
 follows : — 
 
 " A long time ago there lived in a certain country 
 a poor man, who had nothing in the world but one 
 cow j and because there was no chance of the cow's 
 calving, he was sore grieved, and said, 'If my cow 
 does not have a calf, I shall have no more milk, and 
 T must then die of hunger and thirst.' 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 69 
 
 "But when a certain number of moons had 
 passed, instead of the calf the poor man had looked 
 for he found a man with horns, and with a long 
 tail like a cow. And at the sight of this monster 
 the owner of the beast was filled with vexation, and 
 he lifted up his staff to kill him ; but the horned 
 man said, * Kill me not, father, and your mercy shall 
 be rewarded.' 
 
 "And with these words he retreated into the 
 depth of a forest, and there he found among the 
 trees a man of sable hue. ' Who art thou ? ' in- 
 quired Massang the horned. 'I was born of the 
 forest,' was the reply, ' and am called Iddar. I will 
 follow thee whithersoever thou goest.' 
 
 " And they journeyed forth together, and at last 
 they reached a thickly-covered grassy plain, and 
 there they beheld a green man. ' Who art thou 1 ' 
 inquired they. ' I was born of the grass,' replied 
 the green man, ' and will bear thee company.' 
 
 *' Thereupon they all three journeyed forth to- 
 gether, until they came to a sedgy marsh, and there 
 they found a white man. ' Who art thou 1 ' in- 
 quired they. ' I was born of the sedges,' replied the 
 white man, ' and will bear thee company.' 
 
 "Thereupon they all four journeyed forth to- 
 gether, until they reached a desert country, where, 
 in the very depths of the mountain, they found a 
 hut; and because they found plenty both to eat 
 and to drink in the hut, they abode there. Every 
 
70 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 day three of them went out hunting, and left the 
 fourth in charge of the hut. On the first day, 
 Iddar, the Son of the Forest, remained in the hut, 
 and was busied preparing milk, and cooking meat 
 for his companions, when a little old woman put up 
 the ladder and came in at the door. 'Who's 
 there ? ' exclaimed Iddar, and, upon looking round, 
 he beheld an old woman about a span high, who 
 carried on her back a little sack. * Oh, what, there 
 is somebody sitting there"?' said the old woman, 
 ' and you are cooking meat ; let me, I beseech you, 
 taste a little milk and a little meat.* 
 
 " And though she merely tasted a little of each, 
 the whole of the food disappeared. "When the old 
 woman thereupon took her departure, the Son of 
 the Forest was ashamed that the food had disap- 
 peared, and he arose and looked out of the hut. 
 And as he chanced to perceive two hoofs of a horse, 
 he made with them a number of horse's footmarks 
 around the dwelling, and shot an arrow into the 
 court ; and when the hunters returned home and 
 inquired of him, * Where is the milk and the fatted 
 meat?' he answered them, saying, * There came a 
 hundred horsemen, who pressed their way into the 
 house, and took the milk and the flesh, and they 
 have beaten me almost to death. Go ye out, and 
 look around.' And his companions went out when 
 they heard these words, looked around, saw the 
 prints of the horses' feet and the arrow which he 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUE. 71 
 
 himself had shot, and said, 'The words which he 
 spoke are true.' 
 
 " On the following day the Son of the Grass 
 remained at home in the hut, and it befell him as it 
 had befallen his companion on the previous day. 
 But because he perceived the feet of two bullocks, 
 he made with them the marks of the feet of many 
 bullocks around the dwelling, and said to his com- 
 panions, 'There came a hundred people with laden 
 bullocks, and robbed me of the food I had prepared 
 for you.' 
 
 "Thus spake he falsely. On the third day the 
 Son of the Sedges remained at home in the hut, and 
 because he met with no better fortune, he made, 
 with a couple of the feet of a mule, a number of 
 prints of mules' feet around the dwelling, and said 
 to his companions, ' A hundred men with laden 
 mules surrounded the house, and robbed me of the 
 food I had prepared for you.' 
 
 " Thus spake he falsely. On the following day 
 Massang remained at home in the hut, and as he was 
 sitting preparing milk and flesh for his companions, 
 the little old woman stepped in as before and said, 
 ' Oh, so there is somebody here this time ? Let me, 
 I pray you, taste a little of the milk and a little of 
 the meat.' At these words Massang considered, 
 ' Of a certainty this old woman has been here before. 
 If I do what she requires of me, how do I know 
 that there will be any left?' And having thus 
 
72 OEIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 considered, he said to the old woman, ' Old woman, 
 before thou tastest food, fetch me some water.' Thus 
 spoke he, giving her a bucket, of which the bottom 
 was drilled full of holes, to fetch water in. When 
 the old woman was gone, Massang looked after her, 
 and found that the span-high old woman, reaching 
 now up to the skies, drew the bucket full of water- 
 again and again, but that none of the water remained 
 in it. While she was thus occupied, Massang peeped 
 into the little sack which she carried on her 
 shoulders, and took out of it a coil of rope, an iron 
 hammer, and a pair of iron pincers, and put in 
 their place some very rotten cords, a wooden 
 hammer, and wooden pincers. 
 
 " He had scarcely done so before the old woman 
 returned, saying, 'I cannot draw water in your 
 bucket. If you will not give me a little of your 
 food to taste, let us try our strength against each 
 other.' Then the old woman drew forth the coil of 
 rotten cords, and bound Massang with them, but 
 Massang put forth his strength and burst the cords 
 asunder. But when Massansr had bound the old 
 woman with her own coil, and deprived her of all 
 power of motion, she said unto him, ' Herein thou 
 hast gotten the victory ; now let us pinch each other 
 with the pincers.' 
 
 " Whereupon Massang nipped hold of a piece of 
 the old woman's flesh as big as one's head, and tore 
 it forcibly from her. ' Indeed, youth,' cried the old 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 73 
 
 woman, sighing, 'but thou hast gotten a hand of 
 stone ; now let us hammer away at each other ! ' 
 
 " So saying, she smote Massang with the wooden 
 hammer on his breast, but the hammer flew from 
 the handle, and Massang was left without a wound. 
 Then drew Massang the iron hammer out of the 
 fire, and smote the old woman with it in such wise 
 that she fled from the hut crying and wounded. 
 
 " Shortly after this, the three companions returned 
 home, and said to Massang, ' Now, Massang, thou 
 hast surely had something to suff"er 1 ' But Massang 
 replied, ' Ye are all cow^ardly fellows, and have 
 uttered lies ; I have paid olT the old woman. Arise, 
 and let us follow her ! ' 
 
 " At these words they arose, followed her by 
 the traces of her blood, and at length reached a 
 gloomy pit in a rock. At the bottom of this pit 
 there were ten double circular pillars, and on the 
 ground lay the corpse of the old woman, among gold, 
 brass, and armour, and other costly things. ' Will 
 you three descend,' said Massang, ' and then pack 
 together the costly things, and I will draw them up, 
 or I will pack them, and you shall draw them out.' 
 But the three companions said, 'We will not go 
 down into the cavern, for of a verity the old woman 
 is a Schumnu ' (a witch). But Massang, without 
 being dispirited, allowed himself to be let down 
 into the cavern, and collected the valuables, which 
 were then drawn forth by his companions. Then 
 
74 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 his companions spoke with one another, saying, ' If 
 we draw forth Massang, he will surely take all these 
 treasures to himself. It were better, then, that we 
 should carry away these treasures, and leave Massang 
 behind in the cavern ! ' 
 
 " When Massang noticed that his three companions 
 treated him thus ungratefully, he looked about the 
 cavern in search of food, but between the pillars he 
 found nothing but some pieces of bark. Thereupon 
 Massang planted the bark in the earth, nourished 
 it as best he might, and said, *If I am a true 
 Massang, then from this bark let there grow forth 
 three great trees. If I am not, then shall I die 
 here in this pit.' 
 
 " After these enchanting words, he laid himself 
 down, but from his having come in contact with the 
 corse of the old woman, he slept for many years. 
 When he awoke, he found three great trees which 
 reached to the mouth of the pit. Joyfully clambered 
 he up and betook himself to the hut, which was in 
 the neighbourhood. But, because there was' no 
 longer any one to be found therein, he took his iron 
 bow and his arrows, and set forth in search of his 
 companions. These had built themselves houses 
 and taken wives. 'Where are your husbands?' 
 inquired Massang of their wives. ' Our husbands 
 are gone to the chase,' replied they. Then Massang 
 took arrow and bow, and set forth. His companions 
 were returning from the chase with venison, and 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 75 
 
 when they beheld Massang with arrow and bow, 
 they cried, as with one accord, 'Thou art the 
 well-skilled one ! take thou our wives and pro- 
 perty, we will now wander forth further ! ' At 
 these words Massang said, ' Your behaviour was 
 certainly not what it should have been ; but I am 
 going to reward my father — live on, therefore, as 
 before/ 
 
 " By the way Massang discovered a brook, and 
 out of the brook arose a beautiful maiden. The 
 maiden went her way, and flowers arose out of her 
 footsteps. Massang followed the maiden until he 
 arrived in heaven, and when he was come there, 
 Churmusta Tangari (the Protector of the Earth) 
 said unto him, ' It is well that thou art come hither, 
 Massang. We have daily to fight with the host of 
 Schumnu (witches). To-morrow look around ; after 
 to-morrow be companion unto us.' 
 
 " On the following day, when the white host were 
 sore pressed by the black, Churmusta spake unto 
 Massang : ' The white host are the host of the 
 Tangari, the black are the host of the Schumnu. 
 To-day the Tangari will be pressed by the Schumnu ; 
 draw, therefore, thy bow, and send an arrow into the 
 eye of the leader of the black host.' Then Massang 
 aimed at the eye of the leader of the black host, 
 and smote him, so that he fled with a mighty cry. 
 Then spake Churmusta to Massang, " Thy deed is 
 deserving of reward ; henceforward dwell with us 
 
76 OKIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 for ever.' But Massang replied, ' I go to reward my 
 father.' 
 
 "Hereupon Churmusta presented to Massang, 
 Dscliindamani, the wonder-stone of the Gods, and 
 said unto him, ' By a narrow circuitous path you 
 will reach the cave of the Schumnu. Go without 
 fear or trembling therein. Knock at the door and 
 say, " I am the human physician." They will then 
 lead thee to the Schumnu Chan, that you may draw 
 out the arrow from his eyes ; then lay hands upon 
 the arrow, scatter seven sorts of grain towards 
 heaven, and drive the arrow yet deeper into his 
 head.' 
 
 "Thus spake Churmusta authoritatively, and 
 Massang obeyed his commands ; reached, without 
 erring, the cavern of the Schumnu, and knocked at 
 the door. ' What hast thou learned % ' inquired the 
 woman. *I am a physician,' answered Massang; 
 and he was conducted into the building. He ex- 
 amined the wound of the Chan, and laid hands 
 upon the arrow. 'Already,' said the Chan, *my 
 wound feels better.' But Massang suddenly drove 
 the arrow further into the head, scattered the seven 
 grains towards heaven, and a chain fell clattering 
 from heaven down to earth. 
 
 " But while Massang was preparing to lay hands 
 upon the chain, the Schumnu woman smote him 
 with an iron hammer with such force, that from the 
 ]>low there sprang forth seven stars." 
 
THE KELATIONS OF SSIDI KUK. 77 
 
 " Then," said the Son of the Chan, " he was not 
 able to reward his father." 
 
 " Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! 
 Ssarwala missdood jonkzang." Thus spake Ssidi, 
 and burst from the sack through the air. 
 
 Thus Ssidi's third relation treats of the adventures 
 of Massang. 
 
 The Magician with the Swine's Head. 
 
 When the Son of the Chan had, as before, seized 
 upon Ssidi, and was carrying him away, Ssidi spoke 
 as formerly, but the Son of the Chan shook his 
 head, without uttering a word, and Ssidi began the 
 following relation : — 
 
 " A long while since there lived in a happy country 
 a man and a woman. The man had many bad 
 qualities, and cared for nothing but eating, drinking, 
 and sleeping. At last his wife said unto him, ' By 
 thy mode of life thou hast wasted all thine inherit- 
 ance. Arise thee, then, from thy bed, and while I 
 am in the fields, go you out and look about you ! ' 
 
 "As he, therefore, according to these words, was 
 looking about him, he saw a multitude of people 
 pass behind the pagoda with their herds; and 
 birds, foxes, and dogs crowding and noising together 
 around a particular spot. Thither he went, and 
 there found a bladder of butter ; so he took it home 
 
78 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 and placed it upon the shelf. When his wife 
 returned and saw the bladder of butter upon the 
 shelf, she asked, ' Where found you this bladder of 
 butter 1 ' To this he replied, * I did according to 
 your word, and found this.' Then said the woman 
 ' Thou went out but for an instant, and hast already 
 found thus much.' 
 
 "Then the man determined to display his 
 abilities, and said, ' Procure me then a horse, some 
 clothes, and a bloodhound.' The wife provided 
 them accordingly; and the man taking with him, 
 besides these, his bow, cap, and mantle, seated him- 
 self on horseback, led the hound in a leash, and rode 
 forth at random. After he had crossed over several 
 rivers he espied a fox. * Ah,' thought he, ' that 
 would serve my wife for a cap.' 
 
 " So saying, he pursued the fox, and when it fled 
 into a hamster's hole, the man got off his horse, 
 placed his bow, arrows, and clothes upon the saddle, 
 fastened the bloodhound to the bridle, and covered 
 the mouth of the hole with his cap. The next 
 thing he did was to take a large stone, and hammer 
 over the hole with it ; this frightened the fox, which 
 ran out and fled with the cap upon its head. The 
 hound followed the fox, and drew the horse along 
 with it, so that they both vanished in an instant, 
 and the man w^as left without any clothes. 
 
 After he had turned back a long waj, he reached 
 the country of a mighty Chan, entered the Chan's 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 79 
 
 stable, and concealed himself in a stack of hay, so 
 that merely his eyes were left uncovered. Not long 
 afterwards, the beloved of the Chan was walking 
 out, and wishing to look at a favourite horse, she 
 approached close to the hayrick, placed the talisman 
 of life of the Chan's kingdom upon the ground, left 
 it there, and returned back to the palace without 
 recollecting it. The man saw the wonderful stone, 
 but was too lazy to pick it up. At sunset the cows 
 came by, and the stone was beaten into the ground. 
 Some time afterwards a servant came and cleansed 
 the place, and the wonderful stone was cast aside 
 upon a heap. 
 
 " On the following day the people were informed, 
 by the beating of the kettledrums, that the beloved 
 of the Chan had lost the wonderful stone. At the 
 same time, all the magicians and soothsayers and 
 interpreters of signs were summoned, and questioned 
 upon the subject. On hearing this, the man in the 
 hayrick crept out as far as his breast, and when the 
 people thronged around him and asked, ' What hast 
 thou learned ^ ' he replied, ' I am a magician.' On 
 hearing these words they exclaimed, 'Because the 
 wondrous stone of the Chan is missing, all the 
 magicians in the country are summoned to appear 
 before him. Do you then draw nigh unto the Chan.' 
 The man said, ' I have no clothes.' Hereupon the 
 whole crowd hastened to the Chan, and announced 
 unto him thus : ' In the hayrick there lieth a 
 
80 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 magician who has no clothes. This magician would 
 draw nigh unto you, but he has nought to appear 
 in.' The Chan said, ' Send unto him this robe of 
 cloth, and let him approach.' It was done. 
 
 " The man was fetched, and after he had bowed 
 down to the Chan, he was asked what he needed 
 for the performance of his magic charms. To this 
 question he replied, 'For the performance of my 
 magic charms, it is needful that I should have the 
 head of a swine, some cloths of five colours, and 
 some baling ' (a sacred figure of dough or paste). 
 When all these things were prepared, the magician 
 deposited the swine's head at the foot of a tree, 
 dressed it with the cloths of five colours, fastened 
 on the large baling, and passed the whole of three 
 nights in meditation. On the day appointed, all 
 the people assembled, and the magician having put 
 on a great durga (cloak), placed himself, with the 
 swine's head in his hand, in the street. When they 
 were all assembled together, the magician, showing 
 the swine's head, said, ' Here not and there not.' 
 All were gladdened at hearing these words. ' Be- 
 cause, therefore,' said the magician, ' the wonderful 
 stone is not to be found among the people, we must 
 seek for it elsewhere.' 
 
 " With these words the magician, still holding 
 the swine's head in his hand, drew nigh unto the 
 palace, and the Chan and his attendants followed 
 him, singing songs of rejoicing. When, at last, the 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUK. 81 
 
 magician arrived at the heap, he stood suddenly 
 still, and exclaimed, ' There lies the wonderful 
 stone.' Then, first removing some of the earth, he 
 drew forth the stone, and cleansed it. ' Thou art a 
 mighty magician,' joyfully exclaimed all who beheld 
 it. ' Thou art the master of magic with the swine's 
 head. Lift up thyself that thou mayest receive thy 
 reward.' The Chan said, *Thy reward shall be 
 whatsoever thou wilt.' The magician, who thought 
 only of the property he had lost, said, ' Give unto 
 me a horse, with saddle and bridle, a bow and 
 arrows, a cap, a mantle, a hound, and a fox. Such 
 things give unto me.' At these words the 
 Chan exclaimed, ' Give him all that he desireth.' 
 This was done, and the magician returned home 
 with all that he desired, and with two elephants, 
 one carrying meat, and the other butter. 
 
 " His wife met him close to his dwelling, with 
 brandy for him to drink, and said, ' ISTow, indeed, 
 thou art become a mighty man.' Thereupon they 
 went into the house, and when they had laid them- 
 selves dov/n to sleep, the wife said to him, ' Where 
 hast thou found so much flesh and so much butter % ' 
 Then her husband related to her circumstantially 
 the whole affair, and she answered him saying^ 
 'Verily, thou art a stupid ass. To-morrow I will 
 go with a letter to the Chan.' 
 
 " The wife accordingly wrote a letter, and in the 
 letter were the following words : — ' Because it was 
 
 Oriental, ^ 
 
82 OEIE^'TAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 known unto me that the lost wondrous stone retained 
 some evil influence over the Chan, I have, for the 
 obviating of that influence, desired of him the dog 
 and the fox. What I may receive for my reward 
 depends upon the pleasure of the Chan.' 
 
 " The Chan read the letter through, and sent 
 costly presents to the magician. And the magician 
 lived pleasantly and happily. 
 
 "Now in a neighbouring country there dwelt 
 seven Chans, brethren. Once upon a time they 
 betook themselves, for pastime, to an extensive 
 forest, and there they discovered a beauteous maiden 
 with a bufialo, and they asked, ' What are you two 
 doing here ? Whence come you 1 ' The maiden 
 answered, ' I come from an eastern country, and am 
 the daughter of a Chan. This buff'alo accompanies 
 me.' At these words these others replied, ' We are 
 the seven brethren of a Chan, and have no wife. 
 Wilt thou be our wife 1 ' ^ The maiden answered, 
 ' So be it.' But the maiden and the bufl'alo were 
 two Mangusch (a species of evil spirit like the 
 Schumnu), and were seeking out men whom they 
 might devour. The male Mangusch was a buffalo, 
 and the female, she who became wife to the 
 brethren. 
 
 "After the Mangusch had slain, yearly, one of 
 tiie brethren of the Chan, there was only one re- 
 
 ^ It is iu accordance with the customs of Thibet for a 
 woman of that country to have several husbands. 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 83 
 
 maining. And because he was sufifering from a 
 grievous sickness, the ministers consulted together 
 and said, ' For the sickness of the other Chans we 
 have tried all means of cure, and yet have found no 
 help, neither do we in this case know what to 
 advise. But the magician with the swine's head 
 dwells only two mountains off from us, and he is 
 held in great estimation ; let us, without further 
 delay, send for him to our assistance.' 
 
 " Upon this four mounted messengers were de- 
 spatched for the magician, and when they arrived 
 at his dwelling, they made known to him the object 
 of their mission. ' I will,' said the magician, ' con- 
 sider of this matter in the course of the night, and 
 will tell you in the morning what is to be done.' 
 
 " During the night he related to his wife what 
 was required of him, and his wife said, ' You are 
 looked upon, up to this time, as a magician of 
 extraordinary skill ; but from this time there is an 
 end to your reputation. However, it cannot be 
 helped, so go you must.' 
 
 "On the following morning the magician said 
 to the messengers, ' During the night-time I have 
 pondered upon this matter, and a good omen has 
 presented itself to me in a dream. Let me not 
 tarry any longer but ride forth to-day.' The 
 magician, thereupon, equipped himself in a large 
 cloak, bound his hair together on the crown of his 
 head, carried in his left hand the rosary, and in his 
 
84 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 right the swine's head, enveloped in the cloths of 
 five colours. 
 
 " When in this guise he presented himself before 
 the dwelling-place of the Chan, the two Mangusch 
 were sorely frightened, and thought to themselves, 
 *This man has quite the appearance, quite the 
 countenance, of a man of learning.' Then the 
 magician, first placing a baling on the pillow of 
 the bed, lifted up the swine's head, and muttered 
 certain magic words. 
 
 " The wife of the Chan seeing this discontinued 
 tormenting the soul of the Chan, and fled in all 
 haste out of the room. The Chan, by this conduct 
 being freed from the pains of sickness, sank into a 
 sound sleep. ' What is this ? ' exclaimed the magi- 
 cian, filled with afi'right. ' The disease has grown 
 worse, the sick man uttereth not a sound ; the sick 
 man hath departed.' Thus thinking, he cried, 
 * Chan, Chan ! ' But because the Chan uttered no 
 sound, the magician seized the swine's head, 
 vanished through the door, and entered the treasure- 
 chamber. No sooner had he done so, than ' Thief, 
 thief ! ' sounded in his ears, and the magician fled 
 into the kitchen; but the cry of ' Stop that thief! 
 stop that thief ! ' still followed him. Thus pursued 
 the magician thought to himself, ' This night it is 
 of no use to think of getting away, so I will, there- 
 fore, conceal myself in a corner of the stable.' Thus 
 thinking, he opened the door, and there found a 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 85 
 
 buffalo, that lay there as if wearied with a long 
 journey. The magician took the swine's head, and 
 struck the buffalo three times between the horns, 
 whereupon the buffalo sprang up and fled like the 
 wind. 
 
 "But the magician followed after the buffalo, 
 and when he approached the spot where he was, he 
 heard the male Mangusch say to his female com- 
 panion, 'Yonder magician knew that I was in the 
 stable; with his frightful swine's head he struck 
 me three blows — so that it was time for me to 
 escape from him.' And the Chan's wife replied, ' I 
 too am so afraid, because of his great knowledge, 
 that I would not willingly return ; for, of a cer- 
 tainty, things will go badly with us. To-morrow 
 he will gather together the men with weapons and 
 arms, and will say unto the women, " Bring hither 
 firing ; " when this is done he will say, " Lead the 
 buffalo hither." And when thou appearest, he will 
 say unto thee, "Put off the form thou hast assumed." 
 And because all resistance would be useless, the 
 people perceiving thy true shape will fall upon thee 
 with swords, and spears, and stones ; and when they 
 have put thee to death, they will consume thee 
 with fire. At last the magician will cause me to be 
 dragged forth and consumed with fire. Oh, but I 
 am sore afraid ! ' 
 
 " When the magician heard these words, he said 
 to himself, 'After this fashion may the thing be 
 
86 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 easily accomplished.' Upon this he betook himself, 
 with the swine's head to the Chan, lifted up the 
 baling, murmured his words of magic, and asked, 
 ' How is it now with the sickness of the Chan ? ' 
 And the Chan replied, 'Upon the arrival of the 
 master of magic the sickness passed away, and I 
 have slept soundly.' Then the magician spake as 
 follows : ' To-morrow, then, give this command to 
 thy ministers, that they collect the whole of the 
 people together, and that the women be desired to 
 bring firing with them.' 
 
 "When, in obedience to these directions, there 
 were two lofty piles of fagots gathered together, 
 the magician said, ' Place my saddle upon the 
 buffalo.' Then the magician rode upon the saddled 
 buffalo three times around the assembled people, 
 then removed the saddle from the buffalo, smote 
 it three times with the swine's head, and said, 
 ' Put off the form thou hast assumed.' 
 
 "At these words the buffalo was transformed 
 into a fearful ugly Mangusch. His eyes were blood- 
 shot, his upper tusks descended to his breast, his 
 bottom tusks reached up to his eyelashes, so that 
 he was fearful to behold. When the people had 
 hewed this Mangusch to pieces with sword and 
 with arrow, with spear and with stone, and his 
 body was consumed upon one of the piles of fagots, 
 then said the magician, ' Bring forth the wife of the 
 Chan.' And with loud cries did the wife of the 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 87 
 
 Chan come forth, and the magician smote her with 
 the swine's head, and said, ' Appear in thine own 
 form ! ' Immediately her long tusks and bloodshot 
 eyes exhibited the terrific figure of a female Man- 
 gusch. 
 
 "After the wife of the Chan had been cut in 
 pieces, and consumed by fire, the magician mounted 
 his horse ; but the people bowed themselves before 
 him, and streu^ed grain over him, presented him 
 with gifts, and regaled him so on every side, that 
 he was only enabled to reach the palace of the Chan 
 on the following morning. Then spake the Chan, 
 full of joy, to the magician, ' How can I reward you 
 for the great deed that thou hast done 1 ' And the 
 magician answered, ' In our country there are but 
 few nose-sticks for oxen to be found. Give me, I 
 pray you, some of these nose-sticks.' Thus spake 
 he, and the Chan had him conducted home with 
 three sacks of nose-sticks, and seven elephants 
 bearinof meat and butter. 
 
 o 
 
 "Near unto his dwelling his wife came with 
 brandy to meet him; and when she beheld the 
 elephants, she exclaimed. ' Now, indeed, thou art 
 become a mighty man.' Then they betook them- 
 selves to their house, and at night-time the wife of 
 the magician asked him, ' How camest thou to be 
 presented with such gifts 1 ' The magician replied, 
 'I have cured the sickness of the Chan, and con- 
 sumed with fire two Mangusch.' At these words 
 
88 ORIENTAL FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 she replied, * Verily, thou hast behaved very fool- 
 ishly. After such a beneficial act, to desire nothing 
 but nose-sticks for cattle ! To-morrow I myself 
 will go to the Chan.' 
 
 " On the morrow the wife drew near unto the 
 Chan, and presented unto him a letter from the 
 magician, and in this letter stood the following 
 words : — ' Because the magician was aware that of 
 the great evil of the Chan a lesser evil still re- 
 mained behind, he desired of him the nose-sticks. 
 What he is to receive as a reward depends upon the 
 pleasure of the Chan.' 
 
 " ' He is right,' replied the Chan, and he sum- 
 moned the magician, with his father and mother, 
 and all his relations before him, and received them 
 with every demonstration of honour. ' But for you 
 I should have died ; the kingdom would have been 
 annihilated ; the ministers and all the people con- 
 sumed as the food of the Mangusch. I, therefore, 
 will honour thee,' and he bestowed upon him proofs 
 of his favour." 
 
 *' Both man and wife were intelligent," exclaimed 
 the Son of the Chan. 
 
 "Euler of Destiny," replied Ssidi, "thou hast 
 spoken words! Swarwala missdood jakzang!" Thus 
 spake he, and burst from the sack through the air. 
 
 Ssidi's fourth relation treats of the Magician with 
 the head of the Swine, 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 89 
 
 The History of Sunshine and his Brother. 
 
 As the Chan's Son was journeying along as before, 
 laden with Ssidi, Ssidi inquired of him as formerly 
 who should tell a tale. But the Son of the Chan 
 shook his head without speaking a word, and Ssidi 
 began as follows : — 
 
 "Many years ago Guchanasschang reigned over 
 a certain happy land. This Chan had a wife and 
 a son, whose name was Sunshine (Narrani Garral). 
 Upon the death of his first wife the Chan married 
 a second ; and by her likewise he had a son, and 
 the name of his second son was Moonshine (Ssarrani 
 Garral). And when both these sons were grown 
 up, the wife of the Chan thought to herself, 'So 
 long as Sunshine, the elder brother, lives, Moonshine, 
 the younger, will never be Chan over this land.' 
 
 " Some time after this the wife of the Chan fell 
 sick, and tossed and tumbled about on her bed from 
 the seeming agony she endured. And the Chan 
 inquired of her, ' What can be done for you, my 
 noble spouse 1 ' To these words the wife of the 
 Chan replied, ' Even at the time I dwelt with my 
 parents I was subject to this sickness. But now it 
 is become past bearing. I know, indeed, but one 
 way of removing it ; and that way is so impracti- 
 cable, that there is nothing left for me but to die.' 
 Hereupon spake the Chan, 'Te]l unto me this way 
 of help, and though it should cost me half my 
 
90 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 kingdom thou shalfc have it. Tell me what thou 
 requirest.' Thus spake he, and his wife replied 
 with the following words, 'If the heart of one of 
 the Chan's sons were roasted in the fat of the Gunsa 
 (a beast) ; but thou wilt not, of course, sacrifice 
 Sunshine for this purpose ; and I myself bare Moon- 
 shine, his heart I will not consume. So that there 
 is now nothing left for me but to die.' The Chan 
 replied, ' Of a surety Sunshine is my son, and in- 
 expressibly dear unto me ; but in order that I may 
 not lose thee, I will to-morrow deliver him over to 
 the Jargatschi ' (the servants of Justice). 
 
 " Moonshine overheard these words and hastened 
 to his brother, and said, ' To-morrow they will 
 murder thee.' When he had related all the circum- 
 stances, the brother replied, ' Since it is so, do you 
 remain at home, honouring your father and mother. 
 The time of my flight is come.' Then said Moon- 
 shine with a troubled heart, ' Alone I will not re- 
 main, but I will follow thee whithersoever thou 
 goest.' 
 
 "Because the following day was appointed for 
 the murder, the two brothers took a sack with 
 baling-cakes from the altar, crept out at night, for 
 it was the night of the full moon, from the palace, 
 and journeyed on day and night through the moun- 
 tainous country, until they at length arrived at the 
 course of a dried-up river. Because their provender 
 was finished, and the river afforded no water, 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 91 
 
 Moonshine fell to the earth utterly exhausted. 
 Then spake the elder brother, full of affliction, ' I 
 will go and seek water; but do you watch an 
 instant until I come down from the high places.' 
 
 "After some vain attempts Sunshine returned, 
 and found that his brother had departed this life. 
 After he had with great tenderness covered the 
 body of his brother with stones, he wandered over 
 high mountains, and then arrived at the entrance 
 of a cave. Within the cave sat an aged Arschi. 
 'Whence comest thou?' inquired the old man, Hhy 
 countenance betokeneth deep affliction.' And when 
 the youth had related all that had passed, the old 
 man, taking with him the means of awakening the 
 dead, went with the youth to tne grave, and called 
 Moonshine back to life. *Will ye be unto me as 
 sonsV Thus spake the old man, and the two young 
 men became as sons unto him. 
 
 " Not far from this place there reigned a mighty 
 Chan of fearful power ; and the time was approach- 
 ing in this country when the fields were watered, 
 but the crocodiles prevented this. The crocodiles 
 frequented a marsh at the source of the river, and 
 would not allow the water to stream forth until 
 such times as a Son of the Tiger-year^ had been 
 offered to them as food. After a time it happened 
 
 1 Among the Calmucs every year has its peculiar name, 
 and persons born in any year are called the children of that, 
 year. 
 
92 OEIENTAL FOLKLOEE TALES. 
 
 that when search had been made in vain for a Son 
 of the Tiger-year, certain people drew nigh unto 
 the Chan, and said, 'Near unto the source of the 
 river dwelleth the old Arschi, and with him a Son 
 of the Tiger-year. Thither led we our cattle to 
 drink, and we saw him.' 
 
 " When he heard this, the Chan said, ' Go and 
 fetch him.' 
 
 " Accordingly the messengers were despatched for 
 him, and when they arrived at the entrance of the 
 cave, the Arschi himself came forth. ' What is it 
 that ye seek here "? ' inquired the aged Arschi. 
 * The Chan,' replied they, ' speaketh to thee thus : 
 Thou hast a Son of the Tiger-year. My kingdom 
 hath need of him : send him unto me.' But the 
 Arschi said, 'Who could have told you so] who, 
 indeed, would dwell with an old Arschi 1 ' 
 
 " Thus speaking he retired into his cave, closed 
 the door after him, and concealed the youth in a 
 stone chest, placed the lid on him, and cemented 
 up the crevices with clay, as if it was from the dis- 
 tillation of arrack. But the messengers having 
 broken down the door, thrust themselves into the 
 cave, searched it, and then said, ' Since he whom we 
 sought is not here, we are determined that nothing 
 shall be left in the cave.' Thus speaking, they drew 
 their swords; and the youth said, out of fear for 
 the Arschi, ' Hurt not my father ; I am here. ' 
 
 *' And when the youth was come forth, the mes- 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUE. 93 
 
 sengerS took him with them ; but the Arschi they 
 left behind them weeping and sorrowing. When 
 the youth entered into the palace of the Chan, the 
 daughter of the Chan beheld him and loved him, 
 and encircled his neck with her arms. But the 
 attendants addressed the Chan, saying, ' To-day is 
 the day appointed for the casting of the Son of the 
 Tiger-year into the waters.' Upon this the Chan 
 said, ' Let him then be cast into the waters ! ' But 
 when they would have led him forth for that pur- 
 pose, the daughter of the Chan spake and said, 
 ' Cast him not into the waters, or cast me into the 
 waters with him.' 
 
 " And when the Chan heard these words, he was 
 angered, and said, 'Because this maiden careth so 
 little for the welfare of the kingdom, over which I 
 am Chan, let her be bound fast unto the Son of the 
 Tiger-year, and let them be cast together into the 
 waters.' And the attendants said, 'It shall be 
 according as you have commanded.' 
 
 " And when the youth was bound fast, and with 
 the maiden cast into the waters, he cried out, 'Since 
 I am the Son of the Tiger-year, it is certainly lawful 
 for them to cast me into the waters; but why 
 should this charming maiden die, who so loveth 
 meV But the maiden said, 'Since I am but an 
 unworthy creature, it is certainly lawful for them 
 to cast me into the waters ; but wherefore do they 
 cast in this beauteous youth 1 ' 
 
94 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " Now the crocodiles heard these words, felt com- 
 passion, and placed the lovers once more upon the 
 shore. And no sooner had this happened than the 
 streams began to flow again. And when they were 
 thus saved, the maiden said to the youth, ' Come 
 with me, I pray you, unto the palace?' and he 
 replied, ' When I have sought out my father Arschi, 
 then will I come, and we will live together un- 
 severed as man and wife.' 
 
 " Accordingly the youth returned to the cave of 
 the old Arschi, and knocked at the door. 'I am 
 thy son/ said he. ' My son,' replied the old man, 
 ' has the Chan taken and slain ; therefore it is that 
 I sit here and weep.' At these words the son re- 
 plied, ' Of a verity I am thy son. The Chan indeed 
 bade them cast me into the waters; but because the 
 crocodiles devoured me not, I am returned unto 
 you. Weep not, my father ! ' 
 
 "Arschi then opened the door, but he had suf- 
 fered his beard and the hair of his head to grow, 
 so that he looked like a dead man. Sunshine 
 washed him therefore with milk and with water, 
 and aroused him by tender words from his great 
 sorrow. 
 
 " Now when the maiden returned back again to 
 the palace, the Chan and the whole people were 
 exceedingly amazed. * The crocodiles,' they ex- 
 claimed, ' have, contrary to their wont, felt com- 
 passion for this maiden and spared her. This is 
 
THE EELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 95 
 
 indeed a very wonder.' So the whole people passed 
 around the maiden, bowing themselves down before 
 her. But the Chan said, ' That the maiden is re- 
 turned is indeed very good. But the Son of the 
 Tiger-year is assuredly devoured.' At these words 
 his daughter replied unto him, 'The Son of the 
 Tiger-year assuredly is not devoured. On account 
 of his goodness his life was spared him.' 
 
 " And when she said this, all were more than ever 
 surprised. ' Arise ! ' said the Chan to his ministers, 
 ' lead this youth hither.' Agreeably to these com- 
 mands, the ministers hastened to the cave of the 
 aged Arschi. Both Arschi and the youth arose, and 
 when they approached unto the dwelling of the 
 Chan, the Chan said, 'For the mighty benefits 
 which this youth has conferred upon us, and upon 
 our dominions, we feel ourselves bound to go forth 
 to meet him.' 
 
 " Thus spake he, and he went forth to meet the 
 youth, and led him into the interior of the palace, 
 and placed him upon one of the seats appropriated 
 to the nobles. ' thou most wondrous youth ! * 
 he exclaimed, ' art thou indeed the son of Arschi 1 ' 
 The youth replied, ' I am the Son of a Chan. But 
 because my stepmother, out of the love she bare to 
 her own son, sought to slay me, I fled, and, accom- 
 panied by my younger brother, arrived at the cave 
 of the aged Arschi.' 
 
 " When the Son of the Chan related all this, the 
 
96 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 Chan loaded him with honours, and gave his 
 daughters for wives unto the two brothers, and sent 
 them, with many costly gifts and a good retinue, 
 home to their own kingdom. Thither they went, 
 drew nigh unto the palace, and wrote a letter as 
 follows : — ' To the Chan their father, the two 
 brothers are returned back again.' 
 
 " Now the father and mother had for many years 
 bewailed the loss of both their sons, and their 
 sorrows had rendered them so gloomy that they 
 remained ever alone. 
 
 " On receipt of this letter they sent forth a large 
 body of people to meet their children. But because 
 the wife of the Chan saw both the youths approach- 
 ing with costly gifts and a goodly retinue, so great 
 was her envy that she died." 
 
 " She was very justly served ! " exclaimed the Son 
 of the Chan. 
 
 " Euler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! 
 Ssarwala missdood jonkzang." Thus spake Ssidi, 
 and burst from the sack through the air. 
 
 Thus Ssidi's jBfth relation treats of Sunshine and 
 his brother. 
 
 The AYonderful Man who overcmie the 
 Chan. 
 
 When the Son of the Chan had proceeded as 
 formerly to seize the dead one, then spake he the 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 97 
 
 threatening words, seized upon Ssidi, thrust him 
 into the sack, tied the sack fast, ate of the butter- 
 cakes, and journeyed forth with his burden. After 
 Ssidi had as before asked who should tell the tale, 
 and the Son of the Chan had replied by merely shak- 
 ing his head, Ssidi began the following relation : — 
 
 " A long, long time ago there lived in the land of 
 Barschiss, a wild, high-spirited man, who would not 
 allow any one to be above him. Then spake the 
 Chan of the kingdom to him, full of displeasure, 
 'Away with thee, thou good-for-nothing one ! Away 
 with thee to some other kingdom ! ' Thus spake he, 
 and the wild man departed forth out of the country. 
 
 "On his journey he arrived about mid-day at 
 a forest, where he found the body of a horse, 
 which had been somehow killed, and he accordingly 
 cut off its head, fastened it to his girdle, and climbed 
 up a tree. 
 
 "About midnight there assembled a host of 
 Tschadkurrs (evil spirits) mounted upon horses of 
 bark, wearing likewise caps of bark, and they placed 
 themselves around the tree. Afterwards there 
 assembled together other Tschadkurrs, mounted 
 upon horses of paper, and having caps of paper on 
 their heads, and they likewise placed themselves 
 around the tree. 
 
 " During the time that those who were assembled 
 were partaking of various choice wines and liquors, 
 the man peeped anxiously down from the tree, and 
 
 Ot'iental. p 
 
98 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 as he was doing so, the horse's head fell down from 
 his belt. The Tschadkurrs were thereby exceed- 
 ingly alarmed ; so much that they fled hither and 
 thither uttering fearful cries. 
 
 "On the following morning the man descended 
 from the tree, and said, ' This night there was in 
 this spot many choice viands and liquors, and now 
 they are all vanished.' And while he was thus 
 speaking, he found a brandy flask, and as he was 
 anxious for something to drink, he immediately 
 applied the flask which he had found to his lips ; 
 when suddenly there sprang out of it meat and 
 cakes and other delicacies fit for eating. ' This 
 flask,' cried he, 'is of a surety a wishing flask, which 
 will procure him who has it everything he desires. 
 I will take the flask with me.' 
 
 " And when he had thus spoken, he continued 
 his journey until he met with a man holding a 
 sword in his hand. ' Wherefore,' cried he, ' dost 
 thou carry that sword in thine hand 1 ' And the 
 man answered, ' This sword is called Kreisch winger; 
 and when I say to it, " Kreisch winger, thither goes 
 a man who has taken such a thing from me, follow 
 him and bring it back," Kreisch winger goes forth, 
 kills the man, and brings my property back again.' 
 To this the first replied, ' Out of this vessel springeth 
 everything you desire ; let us exchange.' So accord- 
 ingly they made an exchange ; and when the man 
 went away with the flask, he who now owned the 
 
THE EELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 99 
 
 sword said, ' Kreischwinger, go forth now and bring 
 me back my flask/ So the sword went forth, smote 
 his former master dead, and brought the golden 
 vessel back again. 
 
 " When he had jcurneyed a little further, he met 
 a man holding in his hand an iron hammer. ' Where- 
 fore,' cried he, ' dost thou hold this hammer in thy 
 hand 1 ' To this question the other replied, ' When 
 I strike the earth nine times with this hammer, 
 there immediately arises a wall of iron, nine pillars 
 high.' Then said the first, ' Let us make an ex- 
 change.' And wdien the exchange was made, he 
 cried out, ' Kreischwinger, go forth and bring me 
 back my golden vessel ! ' 
 
 "After Kreischwinger had slain the man, and 
 brought back the golden vessel, the man journeyed 
 on until he encountered another man, carrying in 
 his bosom a sack, made of goatskin, and he asked 
 him, ' Wherefore keepest thou that sack 1 ' To this 
 question the other replied, 'This sack is a very 
 wonderful thing. When you shake it, it rains 
 heavily ; and if you shake it very hard, it rains very 
 heavily.' Hereupon the owner of the flask said, 
 •' Let us change,' and they changed accordingly ; and 
 the sword went forth, slew the man, and returned 
 back to its master with the golden vessel. 
 
 " When the man found himself in the possession 
 of all these wonderful things, he said unto himself, 
 ' The Chan of my country is indeed a cruel man ; 
 
100 OKIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 nevertheless I will turn back unto my native land/ 
 When he had thus considered, he turned back again, 
 and concealed himself in the neighbourhood of the 
 royal palace. 
 
 '' About midnight he struck the earth nine times 
 with his iron hammer, and there arose an iron wall 
 nine pillars high. 
 
 " On the following morning the Chan arose, and 
 said, 'During the night I have heard a mighty tock, 
 tock at the back of the palace.' Thereupon the wife 
 of the Chan looked out, and said, ' At the back of 
 the palace there stands an iron wall nine pillars 
 high.' Thus spake she ; and the Chan replied, full 
 of anger, ' The wild, high-spirited man has of a surety 
 erected this iron wall ; but we shall see whether he 
 or I will be the conqueror.' 
 
 "When he had spoken these words the Chan 
 commanded all the people to take fuel and bellows, 
 and make the iron wall red-hot on every side. 
 Thereupon there was an immense fire kindled, and 
 the Wonderful Man found himself, with his mother, 
 within the wall of iron. He was himself upon the 
 upper pillars, but his mother was on the eighth. 
 And because the heat first reached the mother, she 
 exclaimed unto her son, ' The fires which the Chan 
 has commanded the people to kindle will destroy 
 the iron wall, and we shall both die.' The son 
 replied, ' Have no fear, mother, for I can find means 
 to prevent it.' 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 101 
 
 " When he had spoken these words he shook the 
 sack of goatskin, and there descended heavy rain 
 and extinguished the fire. After that he shook the 
 sack still more forcibly, and there arose around 
 them a mighty sea, which carried away both the fuel 
 and the bellows which the people had collected." 
 
 " Thus, then, the Wonderful gained the mastery 
 over the Chan," exclaimed the Son of the Chan. 
 
 " Euler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! 
 Ssarwala missdood jakzang!" Thus spake Ssidi, 
 and burst from the sack through the air. 
 
 Thus Ssidi's sixth relation treats of the Wonderful 
 Man who overpowered the Chan. 
 
 The Bird-man. 
 
 When the Son of the Chan had done as formerly, 
 spoken the threatening words, and carried ofi" Ssidi, 
 Ssidi asked him as before to tell a tale ; but the 
 Son of the Chan shook his head without speaking 
 a word, and Ssidi began as follows : — 
 
 " In times gone by there lived in a fair country 
 the father of a family, whose three daughters had 
 daily by turns to watch over the calves. Now it 
 once happened, during the time that the eldest 
 sister should have been watching the calves, that 
 she fell asleep, and one of them was lost. When 
 the maiden awoke and missed the calf, she arose and 
 went forth to seek it, and wandered about until she 
 reached a large house with a red door. 
 
102 ORIENTAL FOLKLOEE TALES. 
 
 " She went in, and then came to a golden door, 
 next to that to a silver one, and last of all to a 
 brazen door. After she had likewise opened this 
 door she found, close to the entrance of it, a cage 
 decorated with gold and all manner of costly jewels, 
 and within it, on a perch, there stood a white bird. 
 
 " ' I have lost a calf,' said the maiden, ' and 
 am come hither to seek it.' At these words the 
 bird said, 'If thou wilt become my wife I will 
 find the calf for you, but not without.' But the 
 maiden said, ' That may not be ; among men birds 
 are looked upon but as wild creatures. Therefore I 
 will not become your wife, even though, through 
 refusing, I lose the calf for ever.' And when she 
 had thus spoken she returned home again. 
 
 " On the following day the second sister went 
 forth to tend the calves, and she likewise lost one of 
 them. And it happened unto her as it had done 
 unto the eldest sister, and she too refused to become 
 the wife of the bird. 
 
 "At last the youngest sister went forth with the 
 calves, and when she missed one she too wandered on 
 until she reached the house wherein the bird resided. 
 The bird said unto her likewise, ' If thou wilt become 
 my wife, I will procure for thee the calf which thou 
 hast lost.' 'Be it according to thy will.' Thus 
 spake she, and became the wife of the bird. 
 
 "After some time it happened that a mighty 
 thirteen days' feast was held at a large pagoda in 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUK. 103 
 
 the neighbourhood, and upon this occasion a number 
 of persons assembled together, amongst the rest 
 the wife of the bird. And she was the foremost 
 among the women ; but among the men the most 
 noticed was an armed man, who rode upon a white 
 horse three times round the assemblage. And all 
 who saw him exclaimed, ' He is the first.' 
 
 " And when the woman returned home again the 
 white bird demanded of her, ' \Yho were the fore- 
 most among the men and the women who were 
 there assembled together ? ' Then said the woman, 
 ' The foremost among the men was seated upon a 
 white horse, but I knew him not. The foremost of 
 the women was myself.' 
 
 " And for eleven days did these things so fall out. 
 But on the twelfth day, when the wife of the bird 
 went to the assemblage, she sat herself down near 
 an old woman. ' Who/ said the old woman, ' is 
 the first in the assemblage this day *? ' To this 
 question the wife of the bird replied, ' Among the 
 men, the rider upon the white horse is beyond all 
 comparison the foremost. Among the women, I 
 myself am so. Would that I were bound unto this 
 man, for my husband is numbered among wild 
 creatures since he is nothing but a bird.' 
 
 " Thus spake she, weeping, and the old woman 
 replied as follows : — * Speak ye no more words like 
 unto these. Amongst the assembled women thou 
 art in all things the foremost. But the rider upon 
 
104 OFJENTAL rOLKLOEE TALES. 
 
 the white horse is thine own husband. To-morrow 
 is the thirteenth day of the feast. Come not to- 
 morrow unto the feast, but remain at home behind 
 the door until thine husband opens his birdhouse, 
 takes his steed from the stable, and rides to th3 
 feast. Take ye, then, the open birdhouse and burn 
 it. And when thou hast done this thy husband 
 will remain henceforth and for ever in his true 
 form.' 
 
 " The wife of the bird, thereupon, did as she had 
 been told ; and when the birdhouse was opened, and 
 her husband had departed, she took the birdhouse 
 and burnt it upon the hearth. When the sun 
 bowed down towards the west the bird returned 
 home, and said to his wife, ' What, art thou already 
 returned ? ' and she said, ' I am already returned.' 
 Then said her husband, ' Where is my birdhouse *? ' 
 And the wife replied, ' I have burnt it.' And he 
 said, ' Barama, that is a pretty business — that bird- 
 house was my soul.' 
 
 " And his wife was troubled, and said, ' What is 
 now to be done 1 ' To these words the bird replied, 
 ' There is nothing can be done now, except you seat 
 yourself behind the door, and there by day and 
 night keep clattering a sword. But if the clatter- 
 ing sword ceases, the Tschadkurrs will carry me away. 
 Seven days and seven nights must ye thus defend 
 me from the Tschadkurrs and from the Tangari.' 
 
 '■ At these words the wife took the sword, propped 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 105 
 
 Open her eyelids with little sticks, and watched for 
 the space of six nights. On the seventh night her 
 eyelids closed for an instant, but in that instant 
 the Tschadkurrs and Tang^ri suddenly snatched her 
 husband away. 
 
 " Weeping bitterly, and despising all nourish- 
 ment, the distracted wife ran about everywhere, 
 crying unceasingly, ' Alas, my bird-husband ! Alas, 
 my bird-husband ! ' 
 
 " When she had sought for him day and night 
 without finding him, she heard from the top of a 
 mountain the voice of her husband. Following the 
 sound, she discovered that the voice proceeded from 
 the river. She ran to the river, and then discovered 
 her husband with a load of tattered boots upon his 
 back. * Oh ! my heart is greatly rejoiced,' said the 
 husband, * at seeing thee once more. I am forced to 
 draw water for the Tschadkurrs and the Tangari, 
 and have worn out all these boots in doing so. If 
 thou wishest to have me once again, build me a 
 new birdhouse, and dedicate it to my soul ; then I 
 shall come back again.' 
 
 " With these words he vanished into the air. But 
 the woman betook herself home to the house asjain, 
 made a new birdhouse, and dedicated it to the soul 
 of her husband. At length the bird-man appeared 
 and perched himself on the roof of the house." 
 
 " Truly, his wife was an excellent wife ! " exclaimed 
 the Son of the Chan. 
 
106 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 " Euler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! 
 Ssarwala missdood jakzang ! ' Thus spake Ssidi, 
 and burst from the sack through the air. 
 
 Thus Ssidi's seventh relation treats of the Bird- 
 man. 
 
 The Painter and the Wood-carver. 
 
 When the Son of the Chan had, as on all the 
 former occasions, spoken the words of threatening, 
 placed the dead one in the sack, and journeyed forth 
 with him, Ssidi spake this time also as follows : — 
 * The day is long, and the distant journey will 
 tire us : do you relate a tale unto me, or I will relate 
 one unto you." But the Son of the Chan shook his 
 head without saying a word, and Ssidi began as 
 follows : — 
 
 " Many years ago there lived in the land of 
 Gujassmunn a Chan, whose name was Gunisschang. 
 This Chan, however, died, and his son Chamuk 
 Sakiktschi was elected Chan in his place. Now 
 there lived among the people of that country a 
 painter and a wood-carver, who bore similar names, 
 and were evilly disposed towards each other. 
 
 " Once upon a time the painter, Gunga, drew 
 nigh unto the Chan, and said unto him, ' Thy father 
 hath been borne into the kingdom of the Tangari, 
 and hath said unto me, " Come unto me ! " Thither 
 I went, and found thy father in great power and 
 
THE KELATIOXS OF SSIDI KUR. 107 
 
 splendour ; and I have brought for you this letter 
 from him.' AYith these words the painter delivered 
 unto the Chan a forged letter, the contents of which 
 were as follows : — 
 
 "'This letter is addressed to my son Chamuk 
 Sakiktschi. 
 
 " ' When I departed this life, I was borne to the 
 kingdom of the Tangari. An abundance of all 
 things reigns in this land ; but since I am desirous 
 of erecting a pagoda, and there are no wood-carvers 
 to be found here, do you despatch unto me Cunga, 
 the wood -carver. The means by which he is to 
 reach this place he may learn from the painter.' 
 
 " After he had perused this letter, the Chan of 
 Gujassmunn said, 'If my father has really been 
 carried into the realms of the Tangari, that would 
 indeed be a good thing. Call hither the wood- 
 carver ? ' The wood-carver was called, and appeared 
 before the Chan, and the Chan said unto him, * My 
 father has been carried into the realms of the 
 Tangari He is desirous of erecting a pagoda, and 
 because there are no wood-carvers there he is 
 desirous that you should be despatched unto him.' 
 
 " With these words the Chan displayed the forged 
 letter, and when he had read it, the wood-carver 
 said unto himself, ' Of a surety Gunga, the painter, 
 has played me this trick ; but I will try if I cannot 
 overreach him.' 
 
 " Thus thinking, he inquired of the painter, ' By 
 
108 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 what means can I reach the kingdom of the 
 Tangari 1 ' 
 
 " To these words the painter replied, *When thou 
 hast prepared all thy tools and implements of trade, 
 then place thyself upon a pile of fagots, and when 
 thou hast sung songs of rejoicing and set light to 
 the pile of fagots, thus wilt thou be able to reach 
 the kingdom of the Tangari.' Thus spake he, and 
 the seventh night from that time was appointed for 
 the carver's setting forth on his journey. 
 
 *' When the wood-carver returned home unto his 
 wife, he spake unto her these words : — ' The painter 
 hath conceived wickedness in his mind against me ; 
 yet I shall try means to overreach him.' 
 
 " Accordingly he secretly contrived a subterranean 
 passage, which reached from his own house into the 
 middle of his field. Over the aperture in the field 
 he placed a large stone, covered the stone with 
 earth, and when the seventh night was come, the 
 Chan said, 'This night let the wood-carver draw 
 nigh unto the Chan, my father.' Thereupon, agree- 
 ably to the commands of the Chan, every one of the 
 people brought out a handful of the fat of the 
 Gunsa (a beast). A huge fire was kindled, and the 
 wood-cutter, when he had sung the songs of rejoic- 
 ing, escaped by the covered way he had made back 
 to his own house. 
 
 " Meanwhile the painter was greatly rejoiced, and 
 pointed upwards with his finger, and said, ' There 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 109 
 
 rideth the wood-carver up to heaven.' All who had 
 been present, too, betook themselves home, thinking 
 in their hearts, ' The wood-carver is dead, and gone 
 up above to the Chan.' 
 
 ''The wood-carver remained concealed at home 
 a whole month, and allowed no man to set eyes 
 upon him, but washed his head in milk every day, 
 and kept himself always in the shade. After that 
 he put on a garment of white silk, and wrote a 
 letter, in which stood the following words : — 
 
 "'This letter is addressed to my son Chamuk 
 Sakiktschi. That thou rulest the kingdom in 
 peace ; it is very good. Since thy wood-carver has 
 completed his work, it is needful that he should be 
 rewarded according to his deserts. Since, more- 
 over, for the decoration of the pagoda, many 
 coloured paintings are necessary, send unto me the 
 painter, as thou hast already sent this man.' 
 
 " The wood-carver then drew nigh unto the Chan 
 with this letter. ' What ! ' cried the Chan, ' art 
 thou returned from the kingdom of the Tangari ? ' 
 The wood-carver handed the letter unto him, and 
 said, ' I have, indeed, been in the kingdom of the 
 Tangari, and from it I am returned home again.' 
 
 " The Chan was greatly rejoiced when he heard 
 this, and rewarded the wood-carver with costly 
 presents. * Because the painter is now required,' 
 said the Chan, * for the painting of the pagoda, let 
 him now be called before me.' 
 
no ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 "The painter drew nigh accordingly, and when 
 he saw the wood-carver, fair, and in white-shining 
 robes, and decorated with gifts, he said imto him- 
 self, ' Then he is not dead ! ' And the Chan handed 
 over to the painter the forged letter, with the seal 
 thereto, and said, ' Thou must go now.' 
 
 "And when the seventh night from that time 
 arrived, the people came forward as before with a 
 contribution of the fat of the Gunsa; and in the 
 midst of the field a pile of fagots was kindled. 
 The painter seated himself in the midst of the fire, 
 with his materials for painting, and a letter and 
 gifts of honour for the Chan Gunisschang, and sang 
 songs of rejoicing; and as the fire kept growing 
 more and more intolerable, he lifted up his voice 
 and uttered piercing cries; but the noise of the 
 instruments overpowered his voice, and at length 
 the fire consumed him." 
 
 " He was properly rewarded ! " exclaimed the Son 
 of the Chan. 
 
 " Euler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! 
 Ssarwala missdood jakzang ! " Thus spake Ssidi, 
 and burst from the sack through the air. 
 
 Thus Ssidi's eighth relation treats of the Painter 
 and the Wood-carver. 
 
 The Stealing of the Heart. 
 
 When the Son of the Chan was, as formerly, 
 carrying Ssidi away in the sack, Ssidi inquired of 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUK. Ill 
 
 him as before ; but the Son of the Chan shook his 
 head without speaking a word, so Ssidi proceeded 
 as follows : — 
 
 " Many, many years ago there ruled over a cer- 
 tain kingdom a Chan named Guguluktschi. Upon 
 the death of this Chan his son, who was of great 
 reputation and worth, was elected Chan in his place. 
 
 "One berren (a measure of distance) from the 
 residence of the Chan dwelt a man, who had a 
 daughter of wonderful abilities and extraordinary 
 beauty. The son of the Chan was enamoured of 
 this maiden, and visited her daily ; until, at length, 
 he fell sick of a grievous malady, and died, without 
 the maiden being made aware of it. 
 
 "One night, just as the moon was rising, the 
 maiden heard a knocking at the door, and the face 
 of the maiden was gladdened when she beheld the 
 son of the Chan ; and the maiden arose and went 
 to meet him, and she led him in and placed arrack 
 and cakes before him. ' Wife,' said the son of the 
 Chan, ' come with me ! ' 
 
 "The maiden followed, and they kept going 
 further and further, until they arrived at the dwelling 
 of the Chan, from which proceeded the sound of 
 cymbals and kettledrums. 
 
 "'Chan, what is this'?' she asked. The son of 
 the Chan replied to these inquiries of the maiden, 
 ' Do you not know that they are now celebrating the 
 feast of my funeral 1 ' Thus spake he ; and the 
 
112 OEIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 maiden replied, ' The feast of thy funeral ! Has 
 anything then befallen the Chan's son V And the 
 son of the Chan replied, 'He is departed. Thou 
 wilt, however, bear a son unto him. And when the 
 season is come, go into the stable of the elephant, 
 and let him be born there. In the palace there will 
 arise a contention betwixt my mother and her 
 attendants, because of the wonderful stone of the 
 kinsrdom. The wonderful stone lies under the table 
 
 o 
 
 of sacrifice. After it has been discovered, do you 
 and my mother reign over this kingdom until such 
 time as my son comes of age.' 
 
 " Thus spake he, and vanished into air. But his 
 beloved fell, from very anguish, into a swoon. 
 ' Chan ! Chan ! ' exclaimed she sorrowfully, when 
 she came to herself again. And because she felt 
 that the time was come, she betook herself to the 
 stable of the elephants, and there gave birth to a 
 son. 
 
 " On the following morning, when the keeper of 
 the elephants entered the stable, he exclaimed, 
 ' What ! has a woman given birth to a son in the 
 stable of the elephants? This never happened 
 before. This may be an injury to the elephants.' 
 
 " At these words the maiden said, ' Go unto the 
 mother of the Chan, and say unto her, " Arise ! 
 something wonderful has taken place." ' 
 
 " When these words were told unto the mother of 
 the Chan, then she arose and went unto the stable, 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUE. 113 
 
 and the maiden related unto her all that had 
 happened. ' Wonderful ! ' said the mother of the 
 Chan. ' Otherwise the Chan had left no successors. 
 Let us go together into the house.' 
 
 " Thus speaking, she took the maiden with her 
 into the house, and nursed her, and tended her 
 carefully. And because her account of the wonderful 
 stone was found correct, all the rest of her story was 
 believed. So the mother of the Chan and his wife 
 ruled over the kingdom. 
 
 " Henceforth, too, it happened that every month, 
 on the night of the full moon, the deceased Chan 
 appeared to his wife, remained with her until 
 morning dawned, and then vanished into air. And 
 the wife recounted this to his mother, but his mother 
 believed her not, and said, ' This is a mere invention. 
 If it were true my son would, of a surety, show him- 
 self likewise unto me. If I am to believe your 
 words, you must take care that mother and son 
 meet one another.' 
 
 " When the son of the Chan came on the night 
 of the full moon, his wife said unto him, ' It is well 
 that thou comest unto me on the night of every full 
 moon, but it were yet better if thou camest every 
 night.' And as she spake thus, with tears in her 
 eyes, the son of the Chan replied, ' If thou hadst 
 sufficient spirit to dare its accomplishment, thou 
 mightest do what would bring me every night ; but 
 thou art young and cannot do it.' * Then,' said she, 
 
 OrientaL tt 
 
114 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 'if thou wilt but come every night, I will do all 
 that is required of me, although I should thereby lose 
 both flesh and bone.' 
 
 " Thereupon the sou of the Chan sj^ake as follows : 
 ' Then betake thyself on the night of the full moon 
 a berren from this place to the iron old man, and 
 give unto him arrack. A little further you will 
 come unto two rams, to them you must offer 
 batschimak cakes. A little further on you will 
 perceive a host of men in coats of mail and other 
 armour, and there you must share out meat and 
 cakes. From thence you must proceed to a large 
 black building, stained with blood; the skin of a 
 man floats over it instead of a flag. Two aerliks 
 (fiends) stand at the entrance. Present unto them 
 both ofi'erings of blood. Within the mansion thou 
 wilt discover nine fearful exorcists, and nine hearts 
 upon a throne. " Take me ! take me ! " will the 
 eight old hearts exclaim ; and the ninth heart will 
 cry out, " Do not take me ! " But leave the old 
 hearts and take the fresh one, and run home with it 
 without looking round.' 
 
 " Much as the maiden was alarmed at the task 
 which she had been enjoined to perform, she set 
 forth on the night of the next full moon, divided 
 the offerings, and entered the house. 'Take me 
 not ! ' exclaimed the fresh heart ; but the maiden 
 seized the fresh heart and fled with it. The exorcists 
 fled after her, and cried out to those who were 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUE. 115 
 
 watching, ' Stop the thief of the heart ! ' And the 
 two aerlic (fiends) cried, 'We have received offerings 
 of blood ! ' Then each of the armed men cried out, 
 ! Stop the thief ! ' But the rams said, ' We have 
 received batschimak cakes.' Then they called out 
 to the iron old man, ' Stop the thief with the heart !' 
 But the old man said, * I have received arrack from 
 her, and shall not stop her.' 
 
 "Thereupon the maiden journeyed on without 
 fear until she reached home ; and she found upon 
 entering the house the Chan's son, attired in festive 
 garments. And the Chan's son drew nigh, and 
 threw his arms about the neck of the maiden." 
 
 " The maiden behaved well indeed ! " exclaimed 
 the Son of the Chan. 
 
 " Euler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! 
 Ssarwala missdood jakzang." Thus spake Ssidi, and 
 burst from the sack through the air. 
 
 Thus Ssidi's ninth relation treats of the Stealing 
 of the Heart. 
 
 The Man and his Wife. 
 
 When Ssidi had been captured as before, and 
 was being carried away in the sack, he inquired, 
 as he had always done, as to telling a tale ; but the 
 Son of the Chan shook his head without speaking a 
 word. Whereupon Ssidi began the following rela- 
 tion :— 
 
116 ORIENTAL FOLKLOEE TALES. 
 
 " Many, many years since, there lived in the 
 kingdom of Olmilsong two brothers, and they were 
 both married. Now the elder brother and his wife 
 were niggardly and envious, while the younger 
 brother was of quite a different disposition. 
 
 ''Once upon a time the elder brother, who had 
 contrived to gather together abundance of riches, 
 gave a great feast, and invited many people to 
 partake of it. When this was known, the younger 
 thought to himself, ' Although my elder brother has 
 hitherto not treated me very well, yet he will now, 
 no doubt, since he has invited so many people to his 
 feast, invite also me and my wife.' This he certainly 
 expected, but yet he was not invited. ' Probably,' 
 thought he, ' my brother will summon me to-morrow 
 morning to the brandy-drinking.' Because, how- 
 ever, he was not even invited unto that, he grieved 
 very sore, and said unto himself, ' This night, when 
 my brother's wife has drunk the brandy, I will go 
 unto the house and steal somewhat.' 
 
 " When, however, he had glided into the treasure- 
 chamber of his brother, there lay the wife of his 
 brother near her husband ; but presently she arose 
 and went into the kitchen, and cooked meat and 
 sweet food, and went out of the door with it. The 
 concealed one did not venture at this moment to 
 steal anything, but said unto himself, ' Before I 
 steal anything, I will just see what all this means.' 
 
 "So saying, he went forth and followed the 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 117 
 
 woman to a mountain where the dead were wont to 
 be laid. On the top, upon a green mound, lay a 
 beautiful ornamental tomb over the body of a dead 
 man. This man had formerly been the lover of the 
 woman. Even when afar off she called unto the 
 dead man by name, and when she had come unto 
 him she threw her arms about his neck ; and the 
 younger brother was nigh unto her, and saw all 
 that she did. 
 
 " The woman next handed the sweet food which 
 she had prepared to the dead man, and because the 
 teeth of the corse did not open, she separated them 
 with a pair of brazen pincers, and pushed the food 
 into his mouth. Suddenly the pincers bounced back 
 from the teeth of the dead man, and snapped off the 
 tip of the woman's nose ; while, at the same time, 
 the teeth of the dead man closed together and bit 
 off the end of the woman's tongue. Upon this the 
 woman took up the dish with the food and went 
 back to her home. 
 
 "The younger brother thereupon followed her 
 home, and concealed himself in the treasure-cham- 
 ber, and the wife laid herself down again by her 
 husband. Presently the man began to move, when 
 the wife immediately cried out, ' Woe is me ! woe is 
 me ! was there ever such a man *? ' And the man 
 said, ' What is the matter now 1 ' The wife replied, 
 ■ The point of my tongue, and the tip of my nose, 
 both these thou hast bitten off. What can a woman 
 
118 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 do without these two things 1 To-morrow the Chan 
 shall be made acquainted with this conduct.' Thus 
 spake she, and the younger brother fled from the 
 treasure-chamber without stealing anything. 
 
 " On the following morning the woman presented 
 herself before the Chan, and addressed him, saying, 
 ' My husband has this night treated me shamefully. 
 Whatsoever punishment may be awarded to him, I 
 myself will see it inflicted.' 
 
 " But the husband persisted in asserting, * Of all 
 this I know nothing ! ' Because the complaint of the 
 wife. seemed well-founded, and the man could not 
 exculpate himself, the Chan said, 'Because of his 
 evil deeds, let this man be burnt." 
 
 "When the younger brother heard what had 
 befallen the elder, he went to see him. And after 
 the younger one had related to him all the aff'air, 
 he betook himself unto the Chan, saying, ' That the 
 evil-doer may be really discovered, let both the 
 woman and her husband be summoned before you ; 
 I will clear up the mystery.' 
 
 "When they were both present, the younger 
 brother related the wife's visit to the dead man, 
 and because the Chan would not give credence unto 
 his story, he said : ' In the mouth of the dead man 
 you will find the end of the woman's tongue ; and 
 the blood-soiled tip of her nose you will find in the 
 pincers of brass. Send thither, and see if it be not 
 so.' 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 119 
 
 " Thus spake he, and people were sent to the 
 place, and confirmed all that he had asserted. Upon 
 this the Chan said, ' Since the matter stands thus, 
 let the woman be placed upon the pile of fagots 
 and consumed with fire.' And the woman was 
 placed upon the pile of fagots and consumed with 
 fire." 
 
 " That served her right ! " said the Son of the 
 Chan. 
 
 " Euler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words ! 
 Ssarwala missdood jakzang ! " Thus spake Ssidi, 
 and burst from the sack throus-h the air. 
 
 Thus Ssidi's tenth relation treats of the Man and 
 his Wife. 
 
 Of the Maiden Ssuwarandari. 
 
 When the Sou of the Chan was carrying off Ssidi, 
 as formerly, Ssidi related the following tale : — 
 
 " A long while ago, there was in the A^ery centre 
 of a certain kingdom an old pagoda, in which stood 
 the image of Choschim Bodissadoh (a Mongolian 
 idol), formed of clay. Near unto this pagoda stood 
 a small house, in which a beautiful maiden resided 
 with her aged parents. But at the mouth of the 
 river, which ran thereby, dwelt a poor man, who 
 maintained himself by selling fruit, which he carried 
 in an ark upon the river. 
 
 " Now it happened once, that as he was returning 
 
120 OKIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 home he was benighted in the neighbourhood of the 
 pagoda. He listened at the door of the house in 
 which the two old people dwelt, and heard the old 
 woman say unto her husband, ' We are both grown 
 exceedingly old ; could we now but provide for our 
 daughter, it would be well' 
 
 " ' That we have lived so long happily together,' 
 said the old man, ' we are indebted to the talisman 
 of our daughter. Let us, however, offer up sacrifice 
 to Bodissadoh, and inquire of him to what condition 
 we shall dedicate our daughter — to the spiritual 
 or to the • worldly. To-morrow, at the earliest 
 dawn, we will therefore lay our offering before the 
 Burchan.' 
 
 " ' Now know I what to do,' said the listener : so 
 in the night-time he betook himself to the pagoda, 
 made an opening in the back of the idol, and con- 
 cealed himself therein. When on the following 
 morning the two old people and the daughter drew 
 nigh and made their offering, the father bowed him- 
 self to the earth and spake as follows : — 
 
 " ' Deified Bodissadoh ! shall this maiden be de- 
 voted to a spiritual or worldly life 1 If she is to be 
 devoted to a worldly life, vouchsafe to point out 
 now or hereafter, in a dream or vision, to whom we 
 shall give her to wife.' 
 
 "Then he who was concealed in the image ex- 
 claimed, * It is better that thy daughter be devoted 
 to a worldly life. Therefore, give her to wife to the 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDl KUK. 12l 
 
 first man who presents himself at thy door in the 
 morning.' 
 
 " The old people were greatly rejoiced when they 
 heard these words ; and they bowed themselves 
 again and again down to the earth, and walked 
 around the idol. 
 
 " On the following morning the man stepped out 
 of the idol and knocked at the door of the aged 
 couple. The old woman went out, and when she 
 saw that it was a man, she turned back again, and 
 said to her husband, ' The words of the Burchan 
 are fulfilled ; the man has arrived.' 
 
 " ' Give him entrance ! ' said the old man. The 
 man came in accordingly, and was welcomed with 
 food and drink ; and when they had told him all 
 that the idol had said, he took the maiden- with the 
 talisman to wife. 
 
 " When he was wandering forth and drev.^ nigh 
 unto his dwelling, he thought unto himself, * I have 
 with cunning obtained the daughter of the two old 
 people. Now I will place the maiden in the ark, 
 and conceal the ark in the sand.' 
 
 "So he concealed the ark, and went and said 
 unto the people, ' Though I have ever acted pro- 
 perly, still it has never availed me yet. I will 
 therefore now seek to obtain liberal gifts through 
 my prayers.' Thus spake he, and after repeating 
 the Zoka-prayers (part of the Calmuc ritual), he 
 obtained food and gifts, and said, ' To-morrow I 
 
122 OEIENTAL FOLKLOEE TALES. 
 
 will again wander around, repeat the appointed 
 Zoka-prayers, and seek food again.' 
 
 "In the meanwhile it happened that the son of the 
 Chan and two of his companions, with bows and 
 arrows in their hands, who were following a tiger, 
 passed by unnoticed, and arrived at the sand-heap 
 of the maiden Ssuwarandari. ' Let us shoot at that 
 heap ! ' cried they. Thus spake they, and shot 
 accordingly, and lost their arrows in the sand. As 
 they were looking after the arrows, they found the 
 ark, opened it, and drew out the maiden with the 
 talisman. 
 
 " ' Who art thou, maiden ? ' inquired they. * I 
 am the daughter of Lu.' The Chan's son said, 
 ' Come with me, and be my wife.' And the maiden 
 said, ' I cannot go unless another is placed in the 
 ark instead of me.' So they all said, ' Let us put 
 in the tiger.' And when the tiger was placed in 
 the ark, the Chan's son took away with him the 
 maiden, and the talisman with her. 
 
 " In the meanwhile the beggar ended his prayers ; 
 and when he had done so, he thought unto himself, 
 ' If I take the talisman, slay the maiden, and sell 
 the talisman, of a surety I shall become rich indeed.' 
 Thus thinking he drew nigh unto the sand-heap, 
 drew forth the ark, carried it home with him, and 
 said unto his wife, who he thought was within the 
 ark, ' I shall pass this night in repeating the Zoka- 
 prayers.' He threw off his upper garment. And 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 123 
 
 when he had done so, he lifted off the cover of the 
 ark, and said, * Maiden, be not alarmed 1 ' When 
 he was thus speaking, he beheld the tiger. 
 
 " When some persons went into the chamber on 
 the following morning, they found a tiger with his 
 tusks and claws covered with blood, and the body 
 of the beggar torn into pieces. 
 
 " And the wife of the Chan gave birth to three 
 sons, and lived in the enjoymxent of plenty of all 
 things. But the ministers and the people mur- 
 mured, and said, ' It was not well of the Chan 
 that he drew forth his wife out of the earth. Al- 
 though the wife of the Chan has given birth to the 
 sons of the Chan, still she is but a low-born creature.' 
 Thus spoke they, and the wife of the Chan received 
 little joy therefrom. ' I have borne three sons,' 
 said she, * and yet am noways regarded ; I will 
 therefore return home to my parents.' 
 
 "She left the palace on the night of the full 
 moon, and reached the neighbourhood of her parents 
 at noontide. Where there had formerly been no- 
 thing to be seen she saw a multitude of workmen 
 busily employed, and among them a man having 
 authority, who prepared meat and drink for them. 
 ' Who art thou, maiden ? ' inquired this man. ' I 
 come far from hence,' replied the wife of the Chan ; 
 * but my parents formerly resided upon this moun- 
 tain, and I have come hither to seek them.' 
 
 "At these words the young man said, 'Thou art 
 
124 OElENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 then their daughter 1 ' and he received for answer, 
 *I am their daughter.' 
 
 " ' I am their son/ said he. ' I have been told 
 that I had a sister older than myself. Art thou 
 she ? Sit thee down, partake of this meat and this 
 drink, and we will then go together unto our 
 parents.' 
 
 "When the wife of the Chan arrived at the 
 summit of the mountain, she found in the place 
 where the old pagoda stood a number of splendid 
 buildings, with golden towers full of bells. And 
 the hut of her parents was changed into a lordly- 
 mansion. ' All this,' said her brother, ' belongs to 
 us, since you took your departure. Our parents 
 lived here in health and peace.' 
 
 " In the palace there were horses and mules, and 
 costly furniture in abundance. The father and 
 mother were seated on rich pillows of silk, and gave 
 their daughter welcome, saying, ' Thou art still well 
 and happy. That thou hast returned home before 
 w^e depart from this life is of a surety very good.' 
 
 " After various inquiries had been made on both 
 sides, relative to what had transpired during the 
 separation of the parties, the old parents said, ' Let 
 us make these things known unto the Chan and his 
 ministers.' 
 
 " So the Chan and his ministers were loaded with 
 presents, and three nights afterwards they were 
 welcomed with meat and drink of the best. But 
 
THE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR. 125 
 
 the Chan said, ' Ye have spoken falsely, the wife 
 of the Chan had no parents.' Now the Chan 
 departed with his retinue, and his wife said, ' I will 
 stop one more night with my parents, and then I 
 will return unto you.' 
 
 " On the following morning the wife of the Chan 
 found herself on a hard bed, without pillows or 
 coverlets. ' What is this 1 ' exclaimed she ; ' was 
 I not this night with my father and mother — and 
 did I not retire to sleep on a bed of silk 1 * 
 
 " And when she rose up she beheld the ruined 
 hut of her parents. Her father and mother were 
 dead, and their bones mouldered ; their heads lay 
 upon a stone. Weeping loudly, she said unto her- 
 self, *I will now look after the pagoda.' But she 
 saw nothing but the ruins of the pagoda and of 
 the Burchan. ' A godly providence,' exclaimed she, 
 ' has resuscitated my parents. Now since the Chan 
 and the ministers will be pacified, I will return 
 home again.' 
 
 On her arrival in the kingdom of her husband, 
 the ministers and the people came forth to meet 
 her, and walked around her. 'This wife of the 
 Chan,' cried they, ' is descended from noble parents, 
 has borne noble sons, and is herself welcome, 
 pleasant, and charming.' Thus speaking, they 
 accompanied the wife of the Chan to the palace." 
 
 " Her merits must have been great." Thus spake 
 the Son of the Chan. 
 
126 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 "Euler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words, 
 Ssarwala missdood jakzang ! ' Thus spake Ssidi, and 
 burst from the sack through the air. 
 
 Thus Ssidi's eleventh relation treats of the Maiden 
 Ssuvvarandari. 
 
THE TWO CATS. 
 
 In former days there was an old woman, who lived 
 in a hut more confined than the minds of the igno- 
 rant, and more dark than the tombs of misers. Her 
 companion was a cat, from the mirror of whose 
 imagination the appearance of bread had never been 
 reflected, nor had she from friends or strangers ever 
 heard its name. It was enough that she now and 
 then scented a mouse, or observed the print of its 
 feet on the floor ; when, blessed by favouring stars 
 or benignant fortune, one fell into her claws — 
 
 " She became hke a beggar who discovers a treasure of 
 gold; 
 Her cheeks glowed with rapture, and past grief was 
 consumed by present joy." 
 
 This feast would last for a week or more ; and while 
 enjoying it she was wont to exclaim — 
 
 " Am I, God, when I contemplate this, in a dream or 
 awake ? 
 Am I to experience such prosperity after such ad- 
 versity ? " 
 
 But as the dwelling of the old woman was in 
 general the mansion of famine to this cat, she was 
 
128 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 always complaining, and forming extravagant and 
 fanciful schemes. One day, when reduced to extreme 
 weakness, she, with much exertion, reached the top 
 of the hut ; when there she observed a cat stalking 
 on the wall of a neighbour's house, which, like a 
 fierce tiger, advanced with measured steps, and was 
 so loaded with flesh that she could hardly raise her 
 feet. The old woman's friend was amazed to see 
 one of her own species so fat and sleek, and broke 
 out into the following exclamation : — 
 
 ♦' Your stately strides have brought you here at last ; pray 
 tell me from whence you come ? 
 From whence have you arrived with so lovely an appear- 
 ance? 
 You look as if from the banquet of the Khan of Khatai 
 "Where have you acquired such a comeliness? and how 
 came you by that glorious strength ? " 
 
 The other answered, " I am the Sultan's crumb- 
 eater. Each morning, when they spread the con- 
 vivial table, I attend at the palace, and there exhibit 
 my address and courage. From among the rich 
 meats and wheat-cakes I cull a few choice morsels; 
 I then retire and pass my time till next day in 
 delightful indolence." 
 
 The old dame's cat requested to know what rich 
 meat was, and what taste wheat-cakes had "? "As for 
 me," she added, in a melancholy tone, " during my 
 life I have neither eaten nor seen anything but the 
 old woman's gruel and the flesh of mice." The 
 other, smiling, said, " This accounts for the difficulty 
 
THE TWO CATS. 129 
 
 I find in distinguishing you from a spider. Your 
 shape and stature is such as must make the whole 
 generation of cats blush; and we must ever feel 
 ashamed while you carry so miserable an appearance 
 abroad. 
 
 You certainly have the ears and tail of a cat, 
 But in other respects you are a complete spider. 
 
 Were you to see the Sultan's palace, and to smell 
 his delicious viands, most undoubtedly those 
 withered bones would be restored; you would re- 
 ceive new life; you would come from behind the 
 curtain of invisibility into the plane of observation — 
 
 When the perfume of his beloved passes over the tomb of 
 a lover, 
 
 Is it wonderful that his putrid bones should be re-ani- 
 mated ? " 
 
 The old woman's cat addressed the other in the 
 most supplicating manner : " my sister ! " she 
 exclaimed, " have I not the sacred claims of a neigh- 
 bour upon you 1 are we not linked in the ties of 
 kindred? What prevents your giving a proof of 
 friendship, by taking me with you when next you 
 visit the palace ^ Perhaps from your favour plenty 
 may flow to me, and from your patronage I may 
 attain dignity and honour. 
 
 "Withdraw not from the friendship of the honourable ; 
 Abandon not the support of the elect." 
 
 The heart of the Sultan's crumb-eater was melted 
 
 Oriental. y 
 
130 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 by this pathetic address; she promised her new- 
 friend should accompany her on the next visit to 
 the palace. The latter, overjoyed, went down imme- 
 diately from the terrace, and communicated every 
 particular to the old woman, who addressed her 
 with the following counsel : — 
 
 "Be not deceived, my dearest friend, with the 
 worldly language you have listened to; abandon 
 not your corner of content, for the cup of the cove- 
 tous is only to be filled by the dust of the grave, 
 and the eye of cupidity and hope can only be closed 
 by the needle of mortality and the thread of fate. 
 
 It is content that makes men rich ; 
 Mark this, ye avaricious, who traverse the world : 
 He neither knows nor pays adoration to his God 
 Who is dissatisfied with his condition and fortune." 
 
 But the expected feast had taken such possession 
 of poor puss's imagination, that the medicinal counsel 
 of the old woman was thrown away. 
 
 "The good advice of all the world is like wind in a cage, 
 Or water in a sieve, when bestowed on the headstrong." 
 
 To conclude : next day, accompanied by her com- 
 panion, the half-starved cat hobbled to the Sultan's 
 palace. Before this unfortunate wretch came, as it 
 is decreed that the covetous shall be disappointed, 
 an extraordinary event had occurred, and, owing to 
 her evil destiny, the water of disappointment was 
 poured on the flame of her immature ambition. 
 The case was this : a whole ledon of cats had the 
 
THE TWO CATS. 131 
 
 day before surrounded the feast, and made so much 
 noise that they disturbed the guests ; and in con- 
 sequence the Sultan had ordered that some archers 
 armed with bows from Tartary should, on this day, 
 be concealed, and that whatever cat advanced into 
 the field of valour, covered with the shield of auda- 
 city, should, on eating the first morsel, be overtaken 
 with their arrows. The old dame's puss was not 
 aware of this order. The moment the flavour of the 
 viands reached her, she flew like an eagle to the 
 place of her prey. 
 
 Scarcely had the weight of a mouthful been 
 placed in the scale to balance her hunger, when a 
 heart-dividing arrow pierced her breast. 
 
 A stream of blood rushed from the wound. 
 
 She fled, in dread of death, after having exclaimed, 
 
 "Should I escape from this terrific archer, 
 
 I will be satisfied with my mouse and the miserable 
 
 hut of my old mistress. 
 My soul rejects the honey if accompanied by the sting. 
 Content, with the most frugal fare, is preferable " 
 
LEGEND OF DHUEEUMNATH. 
 
 During the reign of a miglity rajah named Guddeh 
 Sing, a celebrated, and as it is now supposed, deified 
 priest, or hutteet, called Dhurrumnath, came, and 
 in all the characteristic humility of his sect estab- 
 lished a primitive and temporary resting-place 
 within a few miles of the rajah's residence at Eunn, 
 near Mandavie. He was accompanied by his 
 adopted son, Ghurreeb Nath. 
 
 From this spot Dhurrumnath despatched his son 
 to seek for charitable contributions from the in- 
 habitants of the town. To this end Ghurreeb 
 Nath made several visits; but being unsuccessful, 
 and at the same time unwilling that his father 
 should know of the want of liberality in the city, 
 he at each visit purchased food out of some limited 
 funds of his own. At length, his little hoard failing, 
 on the sixth day he was obliged to confess the 
 deceit he had practised. 
 
 Dhurrumnath, on being acquainted with this, 
 became extremely vexed, and vowed that from that 
 day all the rajah's putteen cities should become 
 
 132 
 
LEGEND OF DHURRUMNATH. 133 
 
 desolate and ruined. The tradition goes on to 
 state that in due time these cities were destroyed ; 
 Dhurrumnath, accompanied by his son, left the 
 neighbourhood, and proceeded to Denodur. Finding 
 it a desirable place, he determined on performing 
 Tupseeah, or penance, for twelve years, and chose 
 the form of standing on his head. 
 
 On commencing to carry out this determination, 
 he dismissed his son, who established his Doonee 
 in the jungles, about twenty miles to the north-west 
 of Bhooj. After Dhurrumnath had remained Tup- 
 seeah for twelve years, he was visited by all the 
 angels from heaven, who besought him to rise; to 
 which he replied, that if he did so, the portion of 
 the country on which his sight would first rest 
 would become barren : if villages, they would dis- 
 appear ; if woods or fields, they would equally be 
 destroyed. The angels then told him to turn his 
 head to the north-east, where flowed the sea. 
 Upon this he resumed his natural position, and, 
 turning his head in the direction he was told, 
 opened his eyes, when immediately the sea dis- 
 appeared, the stately ships became wrecks, and 
 their crews were destroyed, leaving nothing behind 
 but a barren, unbroken desert, known as the 
 Runn. 
 
 Dhurrumnath, too pure to remain on the earth, 
 partook of an immediate and glorious immortality, 
 being at once absorbed into the spiritual nature of 
 
134 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 the creating, the finishing, the indivisible, all-per- 
 vading Brum. 
 
 This self-imposed penance of Dhurruranath has 
 shed a halo of sanctity around the hill of Denodur, 
 and was doubtless the occasion of its having been 
 selected as a fitting site for a Jogie establishment, 
 the members of which, it is probable, were origin- 
 ally the attendants on a small temple that had been 
 erected, and which still remains, on the highest 
 point of Ijhe hill, on the spot where the holy Dhur- 
 rumnath is said to have performed his painful 
 Tupseeah. 
 
THE TEAVELLER'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 It is related that a man, mounted upon a camel, in 
 the course of travelling arrived at a place where 
 others from the same caravan had lighted a fire 
 before proceeding on their journey. The fan-like 
 wind, breathing on the embers, had produced a 
 flame ; and the sparks, flying over the jungle, the 
 dry wood had become ignited, and the whole plain 
 glowed like a bed of tulips. 
 
 In the midst of this was an enormous snake, 
 which, encircled by the flames, possessed no means of 
 escape, and was about to be broiled like a fish, or 
 kabobed like a partridge for the table. Blood oozed 
 from its poison-charged eyes ; and, seeing the man 
 and the camel, it thus supplicated for assistance — 
 
 " What if in kindness thou vouchsafe me thy pity ; 
 Loosen the knot with which my affairs are entangled." 
 
 Now the traveller was a good man, and one who 
 feared God. When he heard the complaint of the 
 snake, and saw its pitiable condition, he reasoned 
 thus with himself : " This snake is, indeed, the 
 
 135 
 
136 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 enemy of man, but being in trouble and perplexity, 
 it would be most commendable in me to drop the 
 seed of compassion, the fruit of which is prosperity 
 in this world, and exaltation in the next." Thus 
 convinced, he fastened one of his saddle-bags to the 
 end of his spear, and extended it to the snake, 
 which, delighted at escape, entered the bag, and was 
 rescued from the flames. The man then opening 
 the mouth of the bag, addressed it thus : " Depart 
 whither thou wilt, but forget not to offer up thanks- 
 giving for thy preservation; henceforth seek the 
 corner of retirement, and cease to afflict mankind, 
 for they who do so are dishonest in this world and 
 the next — 
 
 Fear God — distress no one ; 
 This indeed is true salvation." 
 
 The snake replied, " young man, hold thy 
 peace, for truly I will not depart until I have 
 wounded both thee and this camel." 
 
 The man cried out, " But how is this ? Have I 
 not rendered thee a benefit 1 Why, then, is such to 
 be my recompense ? 
 
 On my part there was faithfulness, 
 Why then this injustice upon thine ? " 
 
 The snake said, " True, thou hast shown mercy, 
 but it was to an unworthy object; thou knowest 
 me to be an agent of injury to mankind, conse- 
 quently, when thou savedst me from destruction. 
 
THE traveller's ADVENTURE, 137 
 
 thou subjectedst thyself to the same rule that 
 applies to the punishment due for an evil act com- 
 mitted against a worthy object. 
 
 " Again, between the snake and man there is a 
 long-standing enmity, and they who employ fore- 
 sight hold it as a maxim of wisdom to bruise the 
 head of an enemy ; to thy security my destruction 
 was necessary, but, in showing mercy, thou hast 
 forfeited vigilance. It is now necessary that I 
 should wound thee, that others may learn by thy 
 example." 
 
 The man cried, " snake, call but in the 
 counsel of justice ; in what creed is it written, or 
 what practice declares, that evil should be returned 
 for good, or that the pleasure of conferring benefits 
 should be returned by injury and affliction ? " 
 
 The snake replied, " Such is the practice amongst 
 men. I act according to thy own decree ; the same 
 commodity of retribution I have purchased from 
 thee I also sell. 
 
 Buy for one moment that which thou sell'st for years." 
 
 In vain did the traveller entreat, the snake ever 
 replying, "I do but treat thee after the manner of 
 men." This the man denied. " But," said he, " let 
 us call witnesses : if thou prove thy assertion, I will 
 yield to thy will." The snake, looking round, saw 
 a cow grazing at a distance, and said, " Come, we 
 will ask this cow the rights of the question." When 
 
138 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 they came up to the cow, the snake, opening its 
 mouth, said, " cow, what is the recompense for 
 benefits received 1 " 
 
 The cow said, " If thou ask me after the manner 
 of men, the return of good is always evil. For 
 instance, I was for a long time in the service of a 
 farmer ; yearly I brought forth a calf; I supplied his 
 house with milk and ghee ; his sustenance, and the 
 life of his children, depended upon me. When I 
 became old, and no longer produced young, he ceased 
 to shelter me, and thrust me forth to die in a jungle. 
 After finding forage, and roaming at my ease, I grew 
 fat, and my old master, seeing my plump condition, 
 yesterday brought with him a butcher, to whom he 
 has sold me, and to-day is appointed for my 
 slaughter." 
 
 The snake said, " Thou hast heard the cow ; pre- 
 pare to die quickly." The man cried, "It is not 
 lawful to decide a case on the evidence of one 
 witness, let us then call another." The snake looked 
 about and saw a tree, leafless and bare, flinging up 
 its wild branches to the sky. "Let us," said it, 
 " appeal to this tree." They proceeded together to 
 the tree; and the snake, opening its mouth, said, 
 " tree, what is the recompense for good 1 " 
 
 The tree said, "Amongst men, for benefits are 
 returned evil and injury. I will give you a proof of 
 what I assert. I am a tree which, though growing 
 on one leg in this sad waste, was once flourishing 
 
THE traveller's ADVENTURE. 139 
 
 and green, performing service to every one. When 
 any of the human race, overcome with heat and 
 travel, came this way, they rested beneath my shade, 
 and slept beneath my branches ; when the weight of 
 repose abandoned their eyelids, they cast up their 
 eyes to me, and said to each other, ' Yon twig would 
 do well for an arrow ; that branch would serve for 
 a plough ; and from the trunk of this tree what 
 beautiful planks might be made ! ' If they had an 
 axe or a saw, they selected my branches, and carried 
 them away. Thus they to whom I gave ease and 
 rest rewarded me only with pain and affliction. 
 
 Whilst my care overshadows him in perplexity, 
 He meditates only how best to root me up." 
 
 " Well," said the snake, " here are two witnesses ; 
 therefore, form thy resolution, for I must wound 
 thee." The man said, " True ; but the love of life 
 is powerful, and while strength remains, it is difficult 
 to root the love of it from the heart. Call but one 
 more witness, and then I pledge myself to submit to 
 his decree." Now it so wonderfully happened that 
 a fox, who had been standing by, had heard all the 
 argument, and now came forward. The snake on 
 seeing it exclaimed, "Behold this fox, let us ask 
 it." But before the man could speak the fox 
 cried out, " Dost thou not know that the recompense 
 for good is always evil 1 But what good hast thou 
 done in behalf of this snake, to render thee worthy 
 
140 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 of punishment 1 " The man related his story. The 
 fox replied, "Thou seemest an intelligent person, 
 why then dost thou tell me an untruth 1 
 
 How can it be proper for him that is wise to speak falsely ? 
 How can it become an intelligent man to state an untruth ? " 
 
 The snake said, "The man speaks truly, for 
 behold the bag in which he rescued me." The 
 fox, putting on the garb of astonishment, said, " How 
 can I believe this thing 1 How could a large snake 
 such as thou be contained in so small a space ? " 
 The snake said, *'If thou doubt me, I will again 
 enter the bag to prove it. " The fox said, " Truly if 
 I saw thee there, I could believe it, and afterwards 
 settle the dispute between thee and this man." On 
 this the traveller opened the bag, and the snake, 
 annoyed at the disbelief of the fox, entered it; 
 which observing, the fox cried out, "0 young 
 man, when thou hast caught thine enemy, show him 
 no quarter. 
 
 When an enemy is vanquished, and in thy power. 
 It is the maxim of the wise to show him no mercy." 
 
 The traveller took the hint of the fox, fastened 
 the mouth of the bag, and, dashing it against a 
 stone, destroyed the snake, and thus saved mankind 
 from the evil effects of its wicked propensities. 
 
THE SEVEN STAGES OF EOOSTEM. 
 
 Persia was at peace, and prosperous; but its 
 king, Ky-Kaoos, could never remain at rest. A 
 favourite singer gave him one day an animated 
 account of the beauties of the neighbouring kingdom 
 of Mazenderan : its ever-blooming roses, its melodious 
 nightingales, its verdant plains, its mountains shaded 
 with lofty trees, and adorned to their summits with 
 flowers which perfumed the air, its clear murmuring 
 rivulets, and, above all, its lovely damsels and valiant 
 warriors. 
 
 All these were described to the sovereign in such 
 glowing colours that he quite lost his reason, and 
 declared he should never be happy till his power 
 extended over a country so favoured by Nature. It 
 was in vain that his wisest ministers and most 
 attached nobles dissuaded him from so hazardous an 
 enterprise as that of invading a region which had, 
 besides other defenders, a number of Deevs, or 
 demons, who, acting under their renowned chief, 
 Deev-e-SefFeed, or the White Demon, had hitherto 
 defeated all enemies. 
 
 141 
 
142 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 Ky-Kaoos would not listen to his nobles, who 
 in despair sent for old Zal, the father of Eoostem, 
 and prince of Seestan. Zal came, and used all his 
 efforts, but in vain ; the monarch was involved in 
 clouds of pride, and closed a discussion he had 
 with Zal by exclaiming, " The Creator of the 
 world is my friend ; the chief of the Deevs is my 
 prey." This impious boasting satisfied Zal he could 
 do no good ; and he even refused to become regent 
 of Persia in the absence of Ky-Kaoos, but promised 
 to aid with his counsel. 
 
 The king departed to anticipated conquest ; but 
 the prince of Mazenderan summoned his forces, and, 
 above all, the Deev-e-Seffeed and his band. They 
 came at his call : a great battle ensued, in which 
 the Persians were completely defeated. Ky-Kaoos 
 was made prisoner, and confined in a strong fortress 
 under the guard of a hundred Deevs, commanded 
 by Arjeng, who was instructed to ask the Persian 
 monarch every morning how he liked the roses, 
 nightingales, flowers, trees, verdant meadows, shady 
 mountains, clear streams, beautiful damsels, and 
 valiant warriors of Mazenderan. 
 
 The news of this disaster soon spread over Persia, 
 and notwithstanding the disgust of old Zal at the 
 headstrong folly of his monarch, he was deeply 
 afflicted at the tale of his misfortune and disgrace. 
 He sent for Eoostem, to whom he said, " Go, my 
 son, and with thy single arm, and thy good horse. 
 
THE SEVEN STAGES OF ROOSTEM. 143 
 
 Reksh, release our sovereign." Roostem instantly 
 obeyed. There were two roads, but he chose the 
 nearest, though it was reported to be by far the 
 most difficult and dangerous. 
 
 Fatigued with his first day's journey, Roostem 
 lay down to sleep, having turned Reksh loose to 
 graze in a neighbouring meadow, where he was 
 attacked by a furious lion; but this wonderful 
 horse, after a short contest, struck his antagonist 
 to the ground with a blow from his fore-hoof, and 
 completed the victory by seizing the throat of the 
 royal animal with his teeth. When Roostem awoke, 
 he was surprised and enraged. He desired Reksh 
 never again to attempt, unaided, such an encounter. 
 "Hadst thou been slain," asked he of the intelli- 
 gent brute, " how should I have accomplished my 
 enterprise *? " 
 
 At the second stage Roostem had nearly died of 
 thirst, but his prayers to the Almighty were heard. 
 A fawn appeared, as if to be his guide; and following 
 it, he was conducted to a clear fountain, where, 
 after regaling on the flesh of a wild ass, which he 
 had killed with his bow, he lay down to sleep. In 
 the middle of the night a monstrous serpent, seventy 
 yards in length, came out of its hiding-place, and 
 made at the hero, who was awaked by the neighing 
 of Reksh; but the serpent had crept back to its 
 hiding-place, and Roostem, seeing no danger, abused 
 his faithful horse for disturbing his repose. Another 
 
144 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 attempt of the serpent was defeated in the same 
 way; but as the monster had again concealed it- 
 self, Roostem lost all patience with Reksh, whom he 
 threatened to put to death if he again awaked him 
 by any such unseasonable noises. The faithful 
 steed, fearing his master's rage, but strong in his 
 attachment, instead of neighing when the serpent 
 again made his appearance, sprang upon it, and 
 commenced a furious contest. Roostem, hearing 
 the noise, started up and joined in the combat. 
 The serpent darted at him, but he avoided it, and, 
 while his noble horse seized their enemy by the 
 back, the hero cut off its head with his sword. 
 
 When the serpent was slain, Roostem contem- 
 plated its enormous size with amazement, and, with 
 that piety which always distinguished him, returned 
 thanks to the Almighty for his miraculous escape. 
 
 Next day, as Roostem sat by a fountain, he saw 
 a beautiful damsel regaling herself with wine. He 
 approached her, accepted her invitation to partake 
 of the beverage, and clasped her in his arms as if 
 she had been an angel. It happened, in the course 
 of their conversation, that the Persian hero men- 
 tioned the name of the great God he adored. At 
 the sound of that sacred word the fair features and 
 shape of the female changed, and she became black, 
 ugly, and deformed. The astonished Roostem 
 seized her, and after binding her hands, bid her 
 declare who she was. " I am a sorceress," was the 
 
THE SEVEN STAGES OF KOOSTEM. 145 
 
 reply, " and have been employed by the evil spirit 
 Aharman for thy destruction ; but save my life, and 
 I am powerful to do thee service." "I make no 
 compact with the devil or his agents," said the 
 hero, and cut her in twain. He again poured forth 
 his soul in thanksgiving to God for his deliverance. 
 
 On his fourth stage Eoostem lost his way. While 
 wandering about he came to a clear rivulet, on the 
 banks of which he lay down to take some repose, 
 having first turned Eeksh loose into a field of grain. 
 A gardener who had charge of it came and awoke 
 the hero, telling him in an insolent tone that he 
 would soon suffer for his temerity, as the field in 
 which his horse was feeding belonged to a pehloovan, 
 or warrior, called Oulad. Eoostem, always iras- 
 cible, but particularly so when disturbed in his 
 slumbers, jumped up, tore off the gardener's ears, 
 and gave him a blow Avith his fist that broke his 
 nose and teeth. " Take these marks of my temper 
 to your master," he said, " and tell him to come 
 here, and he shall have a similar welcome." 
 
 Oulad, when informed of what had passed, was 
 excited to fury, and prepared to assail the Persian 
 hero, who, expecting him, had put on his armour 
 and mounted Eeksh. His appearance so dismayed 
 Oulad that he dared not venture on the combat till 
 he had summoned his adhereuLb. They all fell 
 upon Eoostem at once ; but the base-born caitiffs 
 were scattered like chaff before the wind; many 
 
 Oriental, „ 
 
146 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 were slain, others fled, among whom Avas their chief. 
 Him Roostem came up with at the fifth stage, and 
 having thrown his noose over him, took him prisoner. 
 Oulad, in order to save his life, not only gave him 
 full information of the place where his sovereign 
 was confined, and of the strength of the Deev-e- 
 Sefi'eed, but offered to give the hero every aid in 
 the accomplishment of his perilous enterprise. This 
 offer was accepted, and he proved a most useful 
 auxiliary. 
 
 On the sixth day they saw in the distance the 
 city of Mazenderan, near which the Deev-e-Seffeed 
 resided. Two chieftains, with numerous attendants, 
 met them ; and one had the audacity to ride up to 
 Roostem, and seize him by the belt. That chiefs 
 fury at this insolence was unbounded ; he disdained, 
 however, to use his arms against such an enemy, 
 but, seizing the miscreant's head, wrenched it from 
 the body, and hurled it at his companions, who fled 
 in terror and dismay at this terrible proof of the 
 hero's prowess. 
 
 Roostem proceeded, after this action, with his 
 guide to the castle where the king was confined. 
 The Deevs who guarded it were asleep, and Ky- 
 Kaoos was found in a solitary cell, chained to the 
 ground. He recognised Roostem, and bursting into 
 tears, pressed his deliverer to his bosom. Roostem 
 immediately began to knock off his chains. The 
 noise occasioned by this awoke the Deevs, whose 
 
THE SEVEN STAGES OF ROOSTEM. 147 
 
 leader, Beedar-Eeng, advanced to seize Roostem ; 
 but the appearance and threats of the latter so 
 overawed him that he consented to purchase his own 
 safety by the instant release of the Persian king 
 and all his followers. 
 
 After this achievement Roostem proceeded to the 
 last and greatest of his labours, the attack of the 
 Deev-e-Seffeed. Oulad told him that the Deevs 
 watched and feasted during the night, but slept 
 during the heat of the day, hating (according to 
 our narrator) the sunbeams. Roostem, as he ad- 
 vanced, saw an immense army drawn out ; he 
 thought it better, before he attacked them, to re- 
 fresh himself by some repose. Having laid himself 
 down, he soon fell into a sound sleep, and at day- 
 light he awoke quite refreshed. As soon as the 
 sun became warm, he rushed into the camp. The 
 heavy blows of his mace soon awoke the surprised 
 and slumbering guards of the Deev-e-Seffeed ; they 
 collected in myriads, hoping to impede his progress, 
 but all in vain. The rout became general, and 
 none escaped but those who fled from the field of 
 battle. 
 
 When this army was dispersed, Roostem went in 
 search of the Deev-e-Seffeed, who, ignorant of the 
 fate of his followers, slumbered in the recess of a 
 cavern, the entrance to which looked so dark and 
 gloomy that the Persian hero hesitated whether he 
 should advance ; but the noise of his approach had 
 
148 ORIENTAL FOLKLOEE TALES. 
 
 roused his enemy, who came forth, clothed in com- 
 plete armour. His appearance was terrible; but 
 Roostem, recommending his soul to God, struck a 
 desperate blow, which separated the leg of the Deev 
 from his body. This would on common occasions 
 have terminated the contest, but far different was 
 the result on the present. Irritated to madness by 
 the loss of a limb, the monster seized his enemy in 
 his arms, and endeavoured to throw him down. 
 The struggle was for some time doubtful ; but 
 Roostem, collecting all his strength, by a wondrous 
 effort dashed his foe to the ground, and seizing him 
 by one of the horns, unsheathed his dagger and 
 stabbed him to the heart. The Deev-e-Seffeed 
 instantly expired ; and Roostem, on looking round 
 to the entrance of the cavern, from whence the 
 moment before he had seen numberless Deevs issuing 
 to the aid of their lord, perceived they were all 
 dead. Oulad, who stood at a prudent distance 
 from the scene of combat, now advanced and in- 
 formed the hero that the lives of all the Deevs 
 depended upon that of their chief. When he was 
 slain, the spell which created and preserved this 
 band was broken, and they all expired. 
 
 Roostem found little difficulty after these seven 
 days of toil, of danger, and of glory, in compelling 
 Mazenderan to submit to Persia. The king of the 
 country was slain, and Oulad was appointed its 
 governor as a reward for his fidelity. 
 
THE SEVEN STAGES OF ROOSTEM. 149 
 
 The success of his arms had raised Ky-Kaoos to 
 the very plenitude of power; not only men, but 
 Deevs, obeyed his mandates. The latter he em- 
 ployed in building palaces of crystal, emeralds, and 
 rubies, till at last they became quite tired of their 
 toil and abject condition. They sought, therefore, 
 to destroy him ; and to effect this they consulted 
 with the devil, who, to forward the object, instructed 
 a Deev, called Dizjkheem, to go to Ky-Kaoos and 
 raise in his mind a passion for astronomy, and to 
 promise him a nearer view of the celestial bodies 
 than had ever yet been enjoyed by mortal eyes. 
 The Deev fulfilled his commission with such success 
 that the king became quite wild with a desire to 
 attain perfection in this sublime science. The devil 
 then instructed Dizjkheem to train some young 
 vultures to carry a throne upwards ; this was done 
 by placing spears round the throne, on the points of 
 which pieces of flesh were fixed in view of the vul- 
 tures, who were fastened at the bottom. These 
 voracious birds, in their efforts to reach the meat, 
 raised the throne. 
 
 Though he mounted rapidly for a short time, 
 the vultures became exhausted, and finding their 
 efforts to reach the meat hopeless, discontinued 
 them ; this altered the direction and equilibrium of 
 the machine, and it tossed to and fro. Ky-Kaoos 
 would have been cast headlong and killed had he 
 not clung to it. The vultures, not being able to 
 
150 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 disengage themselves, flew an immense way, and at 
 last landed the aff'righted monarch in one of the 
 woods of China. Armies marched in every direction 
 to discover and release the sovereign, who, it was 
 believed, had again fallen into the hands of Deevs. 
 He was at last found and restored to his capital. 
 Koostem, we are told, upbraided his folly, saying — 
 
 ' Have you managed your affairs so well on earth 
 That you must needs try your hand in those of 
 
 heaven?" 
 
THE MAN WHO NEYEE LAUGHED. 
 
 There was a man, of those possessed of houses and 
 riches, who had wealth and servants and slaves and 
 other possessions ; and he departed from the world 
 to receive the mercy of God (whose name be ex- 
 alted !), leaving a young son. And when the son 
 grew up, he took to eating and drinking, and the 
 hearing of instruments of music and songs, and was 
 liberal and gave gifts, and expended the riches that 
 his father had left to him until all the wealth had 
 gone. He then betook himself to the sale of the 
 male black slaves, and the female slaves, and other 
 possessions, and expended all that he had of his 
 father's wealth and other things, and became so 
 poor that he worked with the labourers. In this 
 state he remained for a period of years. While he 
 was sitting one day beneath a wall, waiting to see 
 who would hire him, lo ! a man of comely counten- 
 ance and apparel drew near to him and saluted 
 him. So the youth said to him, "0 uncle, hast 
 thou known me before now ? " The man answered 
 him, "I have not known thee, my son, at all; 
 
 151 
 
152 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 but I see the traces of affluence upon thee, though 
 thou art in this condition." The young man re- 
 plied, "0 uncle, what fate and destiny have ordained 
 hath come to pass. But hast thou, uncle, 
 comely-faced, any business in which to employ 
 me 1 " The man said to him, " my son, I desire 
 to employ thee in an easy business." The youth 
 asked, " And what is it, uncle 1 " And the man 
 answered him, " I have with me ten sheykhs in one 
 abode, and we have no one to perform our wants. 
 Thou shalt receive from us, of food and clothing, 
 what will suffice thee, and shalt serve us, and thou 
 shalt receive of us thy portion of benefits and 
 money. Perhaps, also, God will restore to thee 
 thine affluence by our means." The youth there- 
 fore replied, " I hear and obey." The sheykh then 
 said to him, " I have a condition to impose upon 
 thee." " And what is thy condition, uncle 1 " 
 asked the youth. He answered him, " my son, it 
 is that thou keep our secret with respect to the 
 things that thou shalt see us do; and when thou 
 seest us weep, that thou ask us not respecting the 
 cause of our weeping." And the young man re- 
 plied, " Well, uncle." 
 
 So the sheykh said to him, " my son, come 
 with us, relying on the blessing of God (whose 
 name be exalted !)." And the young man followed 
 the sheykh until the latter conducted him to the 
 bath ; after which he sent a man, who brought him 
 
THE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 153 
 
 a comely garment of linen, and he clad him with it, 
 and went with him to his abode and his associates. 
 And when the young man entered, he found it to 
 be a high mansion, with lofty angles, ample, with 
 chambers facing one another, and saloons ; and in 
 each saloon was a fountain of water, and birds were 
 warbling over it, and there were windows overlook- 
 ing, on every side, a beautiful garden within the 
 mansion. The sheykh conducted him into one of the 
 chambers, and he found it decorated with coloured 
 marbles, and its ceiling ornamented with blue and 
 brilliant gold, and it was spread with carpets of 
 silk ; and he found in it ten sheykhs sitting facing 
 one another, wearing the garments of mourning, 
 weeping, and wailing. So the young man wondered 
 at tlieir case, and was about to question the sheykh 
 who had brought him, but he remembered the 
 condition, and therefore withheld his tongue. Then 
 the sheykh committed to the young man a chest 
 containing thirty thousand pieces of gold, sayin-g to 
 him, " my son, expend upon us out of this chest, 
 and upon thyself, according to what is just, and be 
 thou faithful, and take care of that wlrerewith I 
 have intrusted thee." And the young man replied, 
 " I hear and obey." He continued to expend upon 
 them for a period of days and nights, after which 
 one of them died ; whereupon his companions took 
 him, and washed him and shrouded him, and buried 
 him in a garden behind the mansion. And death 
 
154 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 ceased not to take of them one after another, until 
 there remained only the sheykh who had hired the 
 young man. So he remained with the young man 
 in that mansion, and there was not with them a 
 third; and they remained thus for a period of 
 years. Then the sheykh fell sick; and when the 
 young man despaired of his life, he addressed him 
 with courtesy, and was grieved for him, and said to 
 him, " uncle, I have served you, and not failed in 
 your service one hour for a period of twelve years, 
 but have acted faithfully to you, and served you 
 according to my power and ability." The sheykh 
 replied, " Yes, my son, thou hast served us until 
 these sheykhs have been taken unto God (to whom 
 be ascribed might and glory !), and we must inevit- 
 ably die." And the young man said, " my master, 
 thou art in a state of peril, and I desire of thee that 
 thou inform me what hath been the cause of your 
 weeping, and the continuance of your wailing and 
 your mourning and your sorrow." He replied, " O 
 my son, thou hast no concern with that, and require 
 me not to do what I am unable ; for I have begged 
 God (whose name be exalted!) not to afSict any 
 one Avith my affliction. Now if thou desire to be 
 safe from that into which we have fallen, open not 
 that door," and he pointed to it with his hand, and 
 cautioned him against it ; " and if thou desire that 
 what hath befallen us should befall thee, open it, 
 and thou wilt know the cause of that which thou 
 
THE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 155 
 
 hast beheld in our conduct ; but thou wilt repent, 
 when repentance will not avail thee." Then the 
 illness increased upon the sheykh, and he died ; 
 and the young man washed him with his own 
 hands, and shrouded him, and buried him by his 
 companions. 
 
 He remained in that place, possessing it and all 
 the treasure ; but notwithstanding this, he was 
 uneasy, reflecting upon the conduct of the sheykhs. 
 And while he was meditating one day upon the 
 words of the sheykh, and his charge to him not to 
 open the door, it occurred to his mind that he 
 might look at it. So he went in that direction, 
 and searched until he saw an elegant door, over 
 which the spider had woven its webs, and upon it 
 were four locks of steel. When he beheld it, he 
 remembered how the sheykh had cautioned him, 
 and he departed from it. His soul desired him to 
 open the door, and he restrained it during a period 
 of seven days ; but on the eighth day his soul over- 
 came him, and he said, " I must open that door, and 
 see what will happen to me in consequence; for 
 nothing will repel what God (whose name be 
 exalted !) decreeth and predestineth, and no event 
 will happen but by His will." Accordingly he arose 
 and opened the door, after he had broken the locks. 
 And wdien he had opened the door he saw a narrow 
 passage, along which he walked for the space of 
 three hours ; and lo ! he came forth upon the bank 
 
156 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 of a great river. At this the young man wondered. 
 And he walked along the bank, looking to the right 
 and left; and behold! a great eagle descended from 
 the sky, and taking up the young man with its 
 talons, it flew with him, between heaven and earth, 
 until it conveyed him to an island in the midst of 
 the sea. There it threw him down, and departed 
 from him. 
 
 So the young man was perplexed at his case, not 
 knowing whither to go ; but while he was sitting 
 one da}^, lo ! the sail of a vessel appeared to him 
 upon the sea, like the star in the sky ; wherefore 
 the heart of the young man became intent upon the 
 vessel, in the hope that his escape might be effected 
 in it. He continued looking at it until it came 
 near unto him ; and when it arrived, he beheld a 
 bark of ivory and ebony, the oars of which were 
 of sandal-wood and aloes-wood, and the whole of it 
 was encased with plates of brilliant gold. There 
 were also in it ten damsels, virgins, like moons. 
 When the damsels saw him, they landed to him 
 from the bark, and kissed his hands, saying to him, 
 " Thou art the king, the bridegroom." Then there 
 advanced to him a damsel who was like the shining 
 sun in the clear sky, having in her hand a kerchief 
 of silk, in which were a royal robe, and a crown of 
 gold set with varieties of jacinths. Having ad- 
 vanced to him, she clad him and crowned him ; 
 after which the damsels carried him in their arms 
 
THE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 157 
 
 to the bark, and he found in it varieties of carpets 
 of silk of divers colours. They then spread the 
 sails, and proceeded over the depths of the sea. 
 
 '*Now when I proceeded with them," says the 
 young man, " I felt sure that this was a dream, and 
 knew not whither they were going with me. And 
 when they came in sight of the land, I beheld it 
 filled with troops, the number of which none knew 
 but God (whose perfection be extolled, and whose 
 name be exalted !) clad in coats of mail. They 
 brought forward to me five marked horses, with 
 saddles of gold, set with varieties of pearls and 
 precious stones ; and I took a horse from among 
 these and mounted it. The four others proceeded 
 with me ; and when I mounted, the ensigns and 
 banners were set up over my head, the drums and 
 the cymbals were beaten, and the troops disposed 
 themselves in two divisions, right and left. I 
 wavered in opinion as to whether I were asleep 
 or awake, and ceased not to advance, not believing 
 in the reality of my stately procession, but imagin- 
 ing that it was the result of confused dreams, until 
 we came in sight of a verdant meadow, in which 
 were palaces and gardens, and trees and rivers and 
 flowers, and birds proclaiming the perfection of God, 
 the One, the Omnipotent. And now there came 
 forth an army from among those palaces and 
 gardens, like the torrent when it poureth down, 
 until it filled the meadow. When the troops drew 
 
158 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 near to me, they hailed, and lo ! a king advanced 
 from among them, riding alone, preceded by some 
 of his chief officers walking." 
 
 The king, on approaching the young man, alighted 
 from his courser ; and the young man, seeing him 
 do so, alighted also ; and they saluted each other 
 with the most courteous salutation. Then they 
 mounted their horses again, and the king said to 
 the young man, " Accompany us ; for thou art my 
 guest." So the young man proceeded with him, 
 and they conversed together, while the stately trains 
 in orderly disposition went on before them to the 
 palace of the king, where they alighted, and all of 
 them entered, together with the king and the young 
 man, the young man's hand being in the hand of the 
 king, who thereupon seated him on the throne of 
 gold and seated himself beside him. When the 
 king removed the litham from his face, lo! this 
 supposed king was a damsel, like the shining sun in 
 the clear sky, a lady of beautj^ and loveliness, and 
 elegance and perfection, and conceit and amorous 
 dissimulation. The young man beheld vast affluence 
 and great prosperity, and wondered at the beauty 
 and loveliness of the damsel. Then the damsel said 
 to him, "Know, king, that I am the queen of 
 this land, and all these troops that thou hast seen, 
 including every one, whether of cavalry or infantry, 
 are women. There are not among them any men. 
 The men among us, in this land, till and sow and 
 
THE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 159 
 
 reap, employing themselves in the cultivation of the 
 land, and the building and repairing of the towns, 
 and in attending to the affairs of the people, by the 
 pursuit of every kind of art and trade ; but as to the 
 women, they are the governors and magistrates and 
 soldiers." And the young man wondered at this 
 extremely. And while they were thus conversing, 
 the vizier entered ; and lo ! she was a grey-haired 
 old woman, having a numerous retinue, of venerable 
 and dignified appearance ; and the queen said to her, 
 " Bring to us the Kadee and the witnesses." So 
 the old woman went for that purpose. And the 
 queen turned towards the young man, conversing 
 with him and cheering him, and dispelling his fear 
 by kind words ; and, addressing him courteously, she 
 said to him, " Art thou content for me to be thy 
 wife 1 " And thereupon he arose and kissed the 
 ground before her ; but she forbade him ; and he 
 replied, " my mistress, I am less than the servants 
 who serve thee." She then said to him, " Seest 
 thou not these servants and soldiers and wealth and 
 treasures and hoards 1 " He answered her, " Yes." 
 And she said to him, " All these are at thy disposal ; 
 thou shalt make use of them, and give and bestow 
 as seemeth fit to thee." Then she pointed to a 
 closed door, and said to him, " All these things thou 
 shalt dispose of ; but this door thou shalt not open ; 
 for if thou open it, thou wilt repent, when repent- 
 ance will not avail thee." Her words were not 
 
160 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 ended when the vizier, with the Kadee and the 
 witnesses, entered, and all of them were old women, 
 with their hair spreading over their shoulders, and 
 of venerable and dignified appearance. When they 
 came before the queen, she ordered them to per- 
 form the ceremony of the marriage-contract. So 
 they married her to the young man. And she pre- 
 pared the banquets and collected the troops ; and 
 when they had eaten and drunk, the young man 
 took her as his wife. And he resided with her 
 seven years, passing the most delightful, comfortable, 
 and agreeable life. 
 
 But he meditated one day upon opening the door, 
 and said, "Were it not that there are within it 
 great treasures, better than what I have seen, she 
 had not prohibited me from opening it." He then 
 arose and opened the door, and lo ! within it was 
 the bird that had carried him from the shore of the 
 great river, and deposited him upon the island. 
 When the bird beheld him, it said to him, "No 
 welcome to a face that will never be happy ! " So, 
 when he saw it and heard its words, he fled from it ; 
 but it followed him and carried him off, and flew 
 with him between heaven and earth for the s2Dace of 
 an hour, and at length deposited him in the place 
 from which it had carried him away ; after which it 
 disappeared. He thereupon sat in that place, and, 
 returning to his reason, he reflected upon what he 
 had seen of affluence and glory and honour, and the 
 
THE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 161 
 
 riding of the troops before him, and commanding 
 and forbidding; and he wept and wailed. He 
 remained upon the shore of the great river, where 
 that bird had put him, for the space of two months, 
 wishing that he might return to his wife ; but while 
 he was one night awake, mourning and meditating, 
 some one spoke (and he heard his voice, but saw 
 not his person), calling out, " How great were the 
 delights ! Far, far from thee is the return of what 
 is passed ! And how many therefore will be the 
 sighs ! " So when the young man heard it, he 
 despaired of meeting again that queen, and of the 
 return to him of the affluence in which he had been 
 living. He then entered the mansion where the 
 sheykhs had resided, and knew that they had ex- 
 perienced the like of that which had happened unto 
 him, and that this was the cause of their weeping 
 and their mourning; wherefore he excused them. 
 Grief and anxiety came upon the young man, and 
 he entered his chamber, and ceased not to weep and 
 moan, relinquishing food and drink and pleasant 
 scents and laughter, until he died ; and he was 
 buried by the side of the sheykhs. 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 
 
 A FOX and a wolf inhabited the same den, resorting 
 thither together, and thus they remained a long 
 time. But the wolf oppressed the fox ; and it so 
 happened that the fox counselled the wolf to assume 
 benignity, and to abandon wickedness, saying to 
 him, " If thou persevere in thine arrogance, probably 
 God will give power over thee to a son of Adam ; 
 for he is possessed of stratagems, and artifice, and 
 guile ; he captureth the birds from the sky, and the 
 fish from the sea, and cutteth the mountains and 
 transporteth them; and all this he accomplisheth 
 through his stratagems. Betake thyself, therefore, 
 to the practice of equity, and relinquish evil and 
 oppression ; for it will be more pleasant to thy 
 taste." The wolf, however, received not his advice ; 
 on the contrary, he returned him a rough reply, 
 saying to him, " Thou hast no right to speak on 
 matters of magnitude and importance." He then 
 gave the fox such a blow that he fell down senseless ; 
 and when he recovered, he smiled in the wolf's face, 
 
 162 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 163 
 
 apologising for his shameful words, and recited these 
 two verses : — 
 
 " If I have been faulty in my afifeetion for you, and 
 committed a deed of a shameful nature, 
 I repent of my offence, and your clemency will extend 
 to the evildoer who craveth forgiveness." 
 
 So the wolf accepted his apology, and ceased from 
 ill-treating him, but said to him, " Speak not of that 
 which concerneth thee not, lest thou hear that which 
 will not please thee." The fox replied, " I hear and 
 obey. I will abstain from that which pleaseth thee 
 not ; for the sage hath said, ' Offer not information 
 on a subject respecting which thou art not ques- 
 tioned ; and reply not to words when thou art not 
 invited ; leave what concerneth thee not, to attend 
 to that which doth concern thee ; and lavish not 
 advice upon the evil, for they will recompense thee 
 for it with evil.' " 
 
 When the wolf heard these words of the fox, he 
 smiled in his face ; but he meditated upon employing 
 some artifice against him, and said, " I must strive to 
 effect the destruction of this fox." As to the fox, 
 however, he bore patiently the injurious conduct of 
 the wolf, saying within himself, " Verily, insolence 
 and calumny occasion destruction, and betray one 
 into perplexity ; for it hath been said, ' He who is 
 insolent suffereth injury, and he who is ignorant 
 repenteth, and he who feareth is safe : moderation 
 is one of the qualities of the noble, and good 
 manners are the noblest gain.' It is advisable to 
 
164 OEIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 behave with dissimulation towards this tyrant, and 
 he will inevitably be overthrown." He then said 
 to the wolf, "Verily the Lord pardoneth and 
 becometh propitious unto His servant when he hath 
 sinned ; and I am a weak slave, and have committed 
 a transgression in offering thee advice. Had I 
 foreknown the pain that I have suffered from thy 
 blow, I had known that the elephant could not 
 mthstand nor endure it ; but I will not complain of 
 the pain of that blow, on account of the happiness 
 that hath resulted unto me from it ; for, if it had a 
 severe effect upon me, its result was happiness ; and 
 the sage hath said, 'The beating inflicted by the 
 preceptor is at first extremely grievous ; but in the 
 end it is sweeter than clarified honey ! '" So the 
 wolf said, " I forgive thine offence, and cancel thy 
 fault ; but beware of my power, and confess thyself 
 my slave; for thou hast experienced my severity 
 unto him who showeth me hostility," The fox, 
 therefore, prostrated himself before him, saying to 
 him, " May God prolong thy life, and mayest thou 
 not cease to subdue him who opposeth thee ! " And 
 he continued to fear the wolf, and to dissemble 
 towards him. 
 
 After this the fox went one day to a vineyard, 
 and saw in its wall a breach ; but he suspected it, 
 saying unto himself, " There must be some cause for 
 this breach, and it hath been said, ' Whoso seeth a 
 hole in the ground, and doth not shun it, and be 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 165 
 
 cautious of advancing to it boldly, exposeth himself 
 to danger and destruction.' It is well known that 
 some men make a figure of the fox in the vineyard, 
 and even put before it grapes in plates, in order 
 that a fox may see it, and advance to it, and fall 
 into destruction. Verily I regard this breach as a 
 snare ; and it hath been said, ' Caution is the half 
 of cleverness.' Caution requireth me to examine this 
 breach, and to see if I can find there anything that 
 may lead to perdition. Covetousness doth not 
 induce me to throw myself into destruction." He 
 then approached it, and, going round about ex- 
 amining it warily, beheld it ; and lo ! there was a 
 deep pit, which the owner of the vineyard had dug 
 to catch in it the wild beasts that despoiled the 
 vines ; and he observed over it a slight covering. 
 So he drew back from it, and said, " Praise be to 
 God that I regarded it with caution ! I hope that 
 my enemy, the wolf, who hath made my life miser- 
 able, may fall into it, so that I alone may enjoy 
 absolute power over the vineyard, and live in it 
 securely." Then, shaking his head, and uttering a 
 loud laugh, he merrily sang these verses — 
 
 " Would that I beliekl at the present moment in this 
 
 well a wolf, 
 Who hath long afflicted my heart, and made me drink 
 
 bitterness perforce ! 
 Would that my life might be spared, and that the wolf 
 
 might meet his death! 
 Then the vineyard would be free from his presence, 
 
 and I should find in it my spoil." 
 
166 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 Having finished his song, he hurried away until 
 he came to the wolf, when he said to him, " Verily 
 God hath smoothed for thee the way to the vine- 
 yard without fatigue. This hath happened through 
 thy good fortune. May est thou enjoy, therefore, 
 that to which God hath granted thee access, in 
 smoothing thy way to that plunder and that abun- 
 dant sustenance without any difficulty ! " So the 
 wolf said to the fox, "What is the proof of that 
 which thou hast declared?" The fox answered, 
 " I went to the vineyard, and found that its owner 
 had died ; and I entered the garden, and beheld the 
 fruits shining upon the trees." 
 
 So the wolf doubted not the words of the fox, 
 
 and in his eagerness he arose and went to the breach. 
 
 His cupidity had deceived him wit]i vain hopes, 
 
 and the fox stopped and fell down behind him as 
 
 one dead, applying this verse as a proverb suited to 
 
 the case — 
 
 " Dost thou covet an interview with Leyla? It is covetous- 
 ness that causeth the loss of men's heads." 
 
 When the wolf came to the breach, the fox said 
 to him, "Enter the vineyard; for thou art spared 
 the trouble of breaking down the wall of the garden, 
 and it remaineth for God to complete the benefit." 
 So the wolf walked forward, desiring to enter the 
 vineyard, and when he came to the middle of the 
 covering of the hole, he fell into it ; whereupon the 
 fox was violently excited by happiness and joy, his 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 167 
 
 anxiety and grief ceased, and in merry tones he 
 sang these verses — 
 
 "Fortune hath compassionated my case, and felt pity for 
 
 the length of my torment, 
 And granted me what I desired, and removed that which 
 
 I dreaded. 
 I will, therefore, forgive its offences committed in former 
 
 times ; 
 Even the injustice it hath shown in the turning of my 
 
 hair grey. 
 There is no escape for the wolf from utter annihilation ; 
 And the vineyard is for me alone, and I have no stupid 
 
 partner." 
 
 He then looked into the pit, and beheld the wolf 
 weeping in his repentance and sorrow for himself, 
 and the fox wept with him. So the wolf raised his 
 head towards him, and said, " Is it from thy com- 
 passion for me that thou hast wept, Abu-1- 
 Hoseyn ^ " " No," answered the fox, " by him who 
 cast thee into this pit ; but I weep for the length of 
 thy past life, and in my regret at thy not having 
 fallen into this pit before the present day. Hadst 
 thou fallen into it before I met with thee, I had 
 experienced refreshment and ease. But thou hast 
 been spared to the expiration of thy decreed term 
 and known period." The wolf, however, said to 
 him, " Go, evildoer, to my mother, and acquaint 
 her with that which hath happened to me ; perhaps 
 she will contrive some means for my deliverance." 
 But the fox replied, " The excess of thy covetous- 
 ness and eager desire has entrapped thee into de- 
 
168 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 struction, since thou hast fallen into a pit from 
 which thou wilt never be saved. Knowest thou 
 not, ignorant wolf, that the author of the proverb 
 saith, *He who thinks not of results will not be 
 secure from perils ? '" ^' Abu-1-Hoseyn!" rejoined 
 the wolf, " thou wast wont to manifest an affection 
 for me, and to desire my friendship, and fear the 
 greatness of my power. Be not, then, rancorous 
 towards me for that which I have done unto thee ; 
 for he who hath one in his power, and yet forgiveth, 
 will receive a recompense from God, and the poet 
 hath said — 
 
 " ' Sow good, even on an unworthy soil ; for it will not be 
 fruitless wherev^er it is sown. 
 Verily, good, though it remained long buried, none will 
 reap but him who sowed it." " 
 
 " most ignorant of the beasts of prey ! " said the 
 fox, " and most stupid of the wild beasts of the 
 regions of the earth, hast thou forgotten thy haughti- 
 ness, and insolence, and pride, and thy disregarding 
 the rights of companionship, and thy refusing to be 
 advised by the saying of the poet 1 — 
 
 *' ' Tyrannise not, if thou hast the power to do so ; for the 
 tyrannical is in danger of revenge, 
 Thine eye will sleep while the oppressed, wakeful, will 
 call down curses on thee, and God's eye sleepeth not.'" 
 
 " Abu-1-Hoseyn ! " exclaimed the wolf, " be not 
 angry with me for my former offences, for forgive- 
 ness is required of the generous, and kind conduct 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 169 
 
 is among the best means of enriching one's-self. How 
 excellent is the saying of the poet — 
 
 " ' Haste to do good when thou art able ; for at every season 
 thou hast not the power.' " 
 
 He continued to abase himself to the fox, and 
 said to him, " Perhaps thou canst find some means 
 of delivering me from destruction." But the fox 
 replied, " artful, guileful, treacherous wolf ! hope 
 not for deliverance ; for this is the recompense of 
 thy base conduct, and a just retaliation." Then, 
 shaking his jaws with laughing, he recited these 
 two verses — 
 
 " No longer attempt to beguile me ; for thou wilt not attain 
 thy object. 
 What thou seekest from me is impossible. Thou hast 
 sown, and reap, then, vexation." 
 
 '* gentle one among the beasts of prey ! " re- 
 sumed the wolf, '•' thou art in my estimation more 
 faithful than to leave me in this pit." He then 
 shed tears, and repeated this couplet — 
 
 " thou whose favours to me have been many, and whose 
 gifts have been more than can be numbered ! 
 No misfortune hath ever yet befallen me but I have 
 found thee ready to aid me in it." 
 
 The fox replied, " stupid enemy, how art thou 
 reduced to humility, submissiveness, abjectness, and 
 obsequiousness, after thy disdain, pride, tyranny, 
 and haughtiness ! I kept company with thee 
 through fear of thine oppression, and flattered thee 
 
170 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 without a hope of conciliating thy kindness; but 
 now terror hath affected thee, and punishment 
 hath overtaken thee." And he recited these two 
 verses — 
 
 " thou who seekest to beguile ! thou hast fallen in thy 
 base intention. 
 Taste, then, the pain of shameful calamity, and be with 
 other wolves cut off." 
 
 The wolf still entreated him, saying, " gentle 
 one ! speak not with the tongue of enmity, nor look 
 with its eye ; but fulfil the covenant of fellowship 
 with me before the time for discovering a remedy 
 shall have passed. Arise and procure for me a 
 rope, and tie one end of it to a tree, and let down 
 to me its other end, that I may lay hold of it. 
 Perhaps I may so escape from my present predica- 
 ment, and I will give thee all the treasures that I 
 possess." The fox, however, replied, " Thou hast 
 prolonged a conversation that will not procure thy 
 liberation. Hope not, therefore, for thy escape 
 through my means; but reflect upon thy former 
 wicked conduct, and the perfidy and artifice which 
 thou thoughtest to employ against me, and how 
 near thou art to being stoned. Know that thy soul 
 is about to quit the world, and to perish and depart 
 from it : then wilt thou be reduced to destruction, 
 and an evil abode is it to which thou goest ! " 
 " Abu-1-Hoseyn ! " rejoined the wolf, " be ready in 
 returning to friendship, and be not so rancorous. 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 171 
 
 Know that he who delivereth a soul from destruc- 
 tion hath saved it alive, and he who saveth a soul 
 alive is as if he had saved the lives of all mankind. 
 Follow not a course of evil, for the wise abhor it ; 
 and there is no evil more manifest than my being 
 in this pit, drinking the suffocating pains of death, 
 and looking upon destruction, when thou art able 
 to deliver me from the misery into which I have 
 fallen." But the fox exclaimed, " thou barbarous, 
 hard-hearted wretch ! I compare thee, with respect 
 to the fairness of thy professions and the baseness 
 of thine intention, to the falcon with the partridge." 
 " And what," asked the wolf, " is the story of the 
 falcon and the partridge ? " 
 
 The fox answered, "I entered a vineyard one day 
 to eat of its grapes, and while I was there, I beheld 
 a falcon pounce upon a partridge ; but when he had 
 captured him, the partridge escaped from him and 
 entered his nest, and concealed himself in it; 
 whereupon the falcon followed him, calling out to 
 him, ' idiot ! I saw thee in the desert hungry, and, 
 feeling compassion for thee, I gathered for thee 
 some grain, and took hold of thee that thou 
 mightest eat ; but thou fleddest from me, and I see 
 no reason for thy flight unless it be to mortify. 
 Show thyself, then, and take the grain that I have 
 brought thee and eat it, and may it be light and 
 wholesome to thee.' So when the partridge heard 
 these words of the falcon, he believed him and 
 
172 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 came forth to him ; and the falcon stuck his talons 
 into him, and got possession of him. The partridge 
 therefore said to him, ' Is this that of which thou 
 saidst that thou hadst brought for me from the 
 desert, and of which thou saidst to me, " Eat it, and 
 may it be light and wholesome to theeV Thou 
 hast lied unto me ; and may God make that which 
 thou eatest of my flesh to be a mortal poison in thy 
 stomach ! ' And when he had eaten it, his feathers 
 fell off, and his strength failed, and he forthwith 
 died." 
 
 The fox then continued, " Know, wolf, that he 
 who diggeth a pit for his brother soon falleth into 
 it himself ; and thou behavedst with perfidy to me 
 first." " Cease," replied the wolf, " from addressing 
 me with this discourse, and propounding fables, and 
 mention not unto me my former base actions. It is 
 enough for me to be in this miserable state, since I 
 have fallen into a calamity for which the enemy 
 would pity me, much more the true friend. Con- 
 sider some stratagem by means of which I may save 
 myself, and so assist me. If the doing this occasion 
 thee trouble, thou knowest that the true friend 
 endureth for his own true friend the severest labour, 
 and will suffer destruction in obtaining his deliver- 
 ance; and it hath been Siiid, 'An affectionate friend 
 is even better than a brother.' If thou procure 
 means for my escape, I will collect for thee such 
 things as shall be a store for thee against the time 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 173 
 
 of want, and then I will teach thee extraordinary 
 stratagems by which thou shalt make the plenteous 
 vineyards accessible, and shalt strip the fruitful 
 trees : so be happy and cheerful." But the fox 
 said, laughing as he spoke, " How excellent is that 
 which the learned have said of him who is exces- 
 sively ignorant like thee ! " " And what have the 
 learned said 1 " asked the wolf. The fox answered, 
 " The learned have observed that the rude in body 
 and in disposition is far from intelligence, and nigh 
 unto ignorance ; for thine assertion, perfidious 
 idiot ! that the true friend undergoeth trouble for 
 the deliverance of his own true friend is just as 
 thou hast said ; but acquaint me, with thine ignor- 
 ance and thy paucity of sense, how I should bear 
 sincere friendship towards thee with thy treachery. 
 Hast thou considered me a true friend unto thee 
 when I am an enemy who rejoiceth in thy misfor- 
 tune'? These words are more severe than the 
 piercing of arrows, if thou understand. And as to 
 thy saying that thou wilt give me such things as 
 will be a store for me against the time of want, and 
 will teach me stratagems by which I shall obtain 
 access to the plenteous vineyards and strip the 
 fruitful trees — how is it, guileful traitor ! that 
 thou knowest not a stratagem by means of which to 
 save thyself from destruction 1 How far, then, art 
 thou from profiting thyself, and how far am I from 
 receiving thine advice 1 If thou know of stratagems, 
 
174 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 employ them to save thyself from this predicament 
 from which I pray God to make thine escape far 
 distant. See, then, idiot ! if thou know any 
 stratagem, and save thyself by its means from 
 slaughter, before thou lavish instruction upon 
 another. But thou art like a man whom a disease 
 attacked, and to whom there came a man suffering 
 from the same disease to cure hira, saying to him, 
 ' Shall I cure thee of thy disease ? ' The first man, 
 therefore, said to the other, 'Why hast thou not 
 begun by curing thyself ? ' So he left him and went 
 his way. And thou, wolf, art in the same case. 
 Eemain, then, in thy place, and endure that which 
 hath befallen thee." 
 
 Now when the wolf heard these words of the fox, 
 he knew that he had no kindly feeling for him ; so 
 he wept for himself, and said, " I have been careless 
 of myself ; but if God deliver me from this affliction, 
 I will assuredly repent of my overbearing conduct 
 unto him that is weaker than I; and I will cer- 
 tainly wear wool, and ascend the mountains, com- 
 memorating the praises of God (whose name be 
 exalted!) and fearing His punishment; and I will 
 separate myself from all the other wild beasts, and 
 verily I will feed the warriors in defence of the re- 
 ligion and the poor." Then he wept and lamented ; 
 and thereupon the heart of the fox was moved with 
 tenderness for him. On hearing his humble expres- 
 sions, and the words which indicated his repenting 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 175 
 
 of arrogance and pride, he was affected with com- 
 passion for him, and, leaping with joy, placed him- 
 self at the brink of the pit, and sat upon his hind- 
 legs and hung down his tail into the cavity. Upon 
 this the wolf arose, and stretched forth his paw 
 towards the fox's tail, and pulled him down to him; 
 so the fox was with him in the pit. The wolf then 
 said to him, " fox of little compassion ! wherefore 
 didst thou rejoice in my misfortune 1 Now thou hast 
 become my companion, and in my power. Thou 
 hast fallen into the pit with me, and punishment 
 hath quickly overtaken thee. The sages have said, 
 ' If any one of you reproach his brother for deriving 
 his nourishment from miserable means, he shall 
 experience the same necessity/ and how excellent 
 is the saying of the poet — 
 
 *' ' When fortune throweth itself heavily upon some, and 
 encampeth by the side of others, 
 Say to those who rejoice over us, "Awake: the re- 
 joicers over us shall suffer as we have done." ' 
 
 "I must now," he continued, " hasten thy slaughter, 
 before thou beholdest mine." So the fox said within 
 himself, "I have fallen into the snare with this 
 tyrant, and my present case requireth the employ- 
 ment of artifice and frauds. It hath been said that 
 the woman maketh her ornaments for the day of 
 festivity ; and, in a proverb, ' I have not reserved 
 thee, my tear, but for the time of my difficulty ! ' 
 and if I employ not some stratagem in the affair of 
 
176 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 this tyrannical wild beast, I perish inevitably. How 
 good is the saying of the poet — 
 
 " ' Support thyself by guile ; for thou livest in an age 
 whose sous are like the lions of the forest ; 
 
 And brandish around the spear of artifice, that the 
 mill of subsistence may revolve ; 
 
 And pluck the fruits ; or if they be beyond thy reach, 
 then content thyself with herl9age.' " 
 
 He then said to the wolf, "Hasten not to kill 
 me, lest thou repent, courageous wild beast, 
 endowed with might and excessive fortitude ! If 
 thou delay, and consider what I am about to tell 
 thee, thou wilt know the desire that I formed ; and 
 if thou hasten to kill me, there will be no profit to 
 thee in thy doing so, but we shall die here together." 
 So the wolf said, " thou wily deceiver ! how is it 
 that thou hopest to efifect my safety and thine own, 
 that thou askest me to give thee a delay ? Acquaint 
 me with the desire that thou formedst." The fox 
 replied, "As to the desire that I formed, it was 
 such as requireth thee to recompense me for it well, 
 since, when I heard thy promises, and thy confession 
 of thy past conduct, and thy regret at not having 
 before repented and done good ; and when I heard 
 thy vows to abstain from injurious conduct to thy 
 companions and others, and to relinquish the eating 
 of the grapes and all other fruits, and to impose 
 upon thyself the obligation of humility, and to clip 
 thy claws and break thy dog-teeth, and to wear 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 177 
 
 wool and offer sacrifice to God (whose name be 
 exalted !) if He delivered thee from thy present 
 state, I was affected with compassion for thee, though 
 I was before longing for thy destruction. So when 
 I heard thy profession of repentance, and what thou 
 vowedst to do if God delivered thee, I felt con- 
 strained to save thee from thy present predicament. 
 I therefore hung down my tail that thou mightest 
 catch hold of it and make thine escape. But thou 
 wouldst not relinquish thy habit of severity and 
 violence, nor desire escape and safety for thyself by 
 gentleness. On the contrary, thou didst pull me 
 in such a way that I thought my soul had departed, 
 so I became a companion with thee of the abode of 
 destruction and death ; and nothing will effect the 
 escape of myself and thee but one plan. If thou 
 approve of this plan that I have to propose, we shall 
 both save ourselves ; and after that, it will be 
 incumbent on thee to fulfil that which thou hast 
 vowed to do, and I will be thy companion." So 
 the wolf said, " And what is thy proposal that I am 
 to accept ^ " The fox answered, " That thou raise 
 thyself upright ; then I will place myself upon thy 
 head, that I may approach the surface of the earth, 
 and w^hen I am upon its surface I will go forth and 
 bring thee something of which to take hold, and 
 after that thou wilt deliver thyself." But the wolf 
 replied, " I put no confidence in thy words ; for the 
 sages have said, ' He who confideth when he should 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 M 
 
178 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 hate is in error ' ; and it hath been said, ' He who 
 confideth in the faithless is deceived, and he who 
 maketh trial of the trier will repent.' How excel- 
 lent also is the saying of the poet — 
 
 " ' Let not your opinion be otherwise than evil ; for ill 
 opinion is among the strongest of intellectual qualities. 
 Nothing casteth a man into a place of danger like the 
 practice of good, and a fair opinion ! ' 
 
 " And the saying of another — 
 
 " ' Always hold an evil opinion, and so be safe. 
 
 Whoso liveth vigilantl}', his calamities will be few. 
 Meet the enemy with a smiling and an open face ; but 
 raise for him an army in the heart to combat him.' 
 
 " And that of another — 
 
 *' ' The most bitter of thine enemies is the nearest whom 
 
 thou trustest in : beware then of men, and associate 
 
 with them wilily. 
 
 Thy favourable opinion of fortune is a weakness : think 
 
 evil of it, therefore, and regard it with apprehension ! ' '' 
 
 " Verily," rejoined the fox, " an evil opinion is 
 not commendable in every case ; but a fair opinion 
 is among the characteristics of excellence, and its 
 result is escape from terrors. It is befitting, O wolf, 
 that thou employ some stratagem for thine escape 
 from the present predicament ; and it will be better 
 for us both to escape than to die. Relinquish, 
 therefore, thine evil opinion and thy malevolence ; 
 for if thou think favourably of me, I shall not fail 
 to do one of two things ; either I shall bring thee 
 something -i/f which to lay hold, and thou wilt escape 
 from thy present situation, or I shall act perfidiously 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 179 
 
 towards thee, and save myself and leave thee ; but 
 this is a thing that cannot be, for I am not secured 
 from meeting with some such affliction as that which 
 thou hast met with, and that would be the punish- 
 ment of perfidy. It hath been said in a proverb, 
 'Fidelity is good, and perfidy is base.' It is fit, 
 then, that thou trust in me, for I have not been 
 ignorant of misfortunes. Delay not, therefore, to 
 contrive our escape, for the afifair is too strait for 
 thee to prolong thy discourse upon it." 
 
 The wolf then said, " Verily, notwithstanding my 
 little confidence in thy fidelity, I knew what was in 
 thy heart, that thou desiredst my deliverance when 
 thou wast convinced of my repentance ; and I said 
 within myself, * If he be veracious in that which he 
 asserteth, he hath made amends for his wicked- 
 ness; and if he be false, he will be recompensed 
 by his Lord.' So now I accept thy proposal to 
 me, and if thou act perfidiously towards me, thy 
 perfidy will be the means of thy destruction." Then 
 the wolf raised himself upright in the pit, and took 
 the fox upon his shoulders, so that his head reached 
 the surface of the ground. The fox thereupon 
 sprang from the wolf's shoulders, and found himself 
 upon the face of the earth, when he fell down 
 senseless. The wolf now said to him, " my friend ! 
 forget not my case, nor delay my deliverance." 
 
 The fox, however, uttered a loud laugh, and 
 replied, " thou deceived ! it was nothing but my 
 
180 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 jesting with thee and deriding thee that entrapped 
 me into thy power ; for when I heard thy profession 
 of repentance, joy excited me, and I was moved 
 with delight, and danced, and my tail hung down 
 into the pit; so thou didst pull me, and I fell 
 by thee. Then God (whose name be exalted !) 
 delivered me from thy hand. Wherefore, then, 
 should I not aid in thy destruction when thou art 
 of the associates of the devil 1 Know that I dreamt 
 yesterday that I was dancing at thy wedding, and I 
 related the dream to an interpreter, who said to me, 
 ' Thou wilt fall into a frightful danger, and escape 
 from it.' So I knew that my falling into thy 
 power and my escape was the interpretation of my 
 dream. Thou, too, knowest, deceived idiot ! that 
 I am thine enemy. How, then, dost thou hope, 
 with thy little sense and thine ignorance, that I will 
 deliver thee, when thou hast heard what rude 
 language I used % And how shall I endeavour to 
 deliver thee, when the learned have said that by 
 the death of the sinner are produced ease to man- 
 kind and purgation of the earth 1 Did I not fear 
 that I should suffer, by fidelity to thee, such 
 affliction as would be greater than that which may 
 result from perfidy, I would consider upon means 
 for thy deliverance." So when the wolf heard the 
 words of the fox, he bit his paw in repentance. He 
 then spoke softly to him, but obtained nothing 
 thereby. With a low voice he said to him, "Verily, 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLE. 181 
 
 you tribe of foxes are the sweetest of people in 
 tongue, and the most pleasant in jesting, and this 
 is jesting in thee ; but every time is not convenient 
 for sport and joking." " idiot ! " replied the fox, 
 "jesting hath a limit which its employer trans- 
 gresseth not. Think not that God will give thee 
 possession of me after He hath delivered me from 
 thy power." The wolf then said to him, " Thou art 
 one in whom it is proper to desire my liberation, 
 on account of the former brotherhood and friendship 
 that subsisted between us ; and if thou deliver me, 
 I will certainly recompense thee well." But the 
 fox replied, " The sages have said, ' Take not as thy 
 brother the ignorant and wicked, for he will 
 disgrace thee, and not honour thee ; and take not as 
 thy brother the liar, for if good proceed from thee 
 he will hide it, and if evil proceed from thee he will 
 publish it ! ' And the sages have said, ' For every- 
 thing there is a stratagem, excepting death; and 
 everything may be rectified excepting the corruption 
 of the very essence ; and everything may be repelled 
 excepting destiny.' And as to the recompense 
 which thou assertest that I deserve of thee, I 
 compare thee, in thy recompensing, to the serpent 
 fleeing from the Hilwee, when a man saw her in a 
 state of terror, and said to her, ' What is the matter 
 with thee, serpent?' She answered, 'I have 
 fled from the Hawee, for he seeketh me ; and if 
 thou deliver me from him, and conceal me with 
 
182 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 thee, I will recompense thee well, and do thee every 
 kindness.' So the man took her, to obtain the 
 reward, and eager for the recompense, and put her 
 into his pocket ; and when the Hawee had passed 
 and gone his way, and what she feared had quitted 
 her, the man said to her, ' Where is the recompense, 
 for I have saved thee from that which thou fearedst 
 and didst dread T The serpent answered him, ' Tell 
 me in what member I shall bite thee; for thou 
 knowest that we exceed not this recompense.' She 
 then inflicted upon him a bite, from which he died. 
 And thee, idiot ! " continued the fox, " I compare 
 to that serpent with that man. Hast thou not 
 heard the saying of the poet ? — 
 
 '• ' Trust not a person in whose heart thou hast made anger 
 to dwell, nor think his anger hath ceased. 
 Verily, the vipers, though smooth to the touch, show- 
 graceful motions, and hide mortal poison.' " 
 
 " eloquent and comely-faced animal ! " rejoined 
 the wolf, " be not ignorant of my condition, and of 
 the fear with which mankind regard me. Thou 
 knowest that I assault the strong places, and strip 
 the vines. Do, therefore, what I have commanded 
 thee, and attend to me as the slave attendeth to his 
 master." " ignorant idiot ! who seekest what is 
 vain," exclaimed the fox, " verily I wonder at thy 
 stupidity, and at the roughness of thy manner, in 
 thine orderinir me to serve thee and to stand before 
 thee as though I were a slave. But thou shalt soon 
 
THE FOX AND THE WOLF. 183 
 
 see what will befall thee, by the splitting of thy head 
 with stones, and the breaking of thy treacherous dog- 
 teeth." 
 
 The fox then stationed himself upon a mound 
 overlooking the vineyard, and cried out incessantly 
 to the people of the vineyard until they perceived 
 him and came quickly to him. He remained steady 
 before them until they drew near unto him, 
 and unto the pit in which was the wolf, and 
 then he fled. So the owners of the vineyard 
 looked into the pit, and when they beheld the wolf 
 in it, they instantly pelted him with heavy stones, 
 and continued throwing stones and pieces of wood 
 upon him, and piercing him with the points of 
 spears, until they killed him, when they departed. 
 Then the fox returned to the pit, and standing over 
 the place of the wolfs slaughter, saw him dead; 
 whereupon he shook his head in the excess of his 
 joy, and recited these verses — 
 
 " Fate removed the wolf's soul, and it was snatched 
 away. 
 
 Far distant from hapx^iness be his soul that hath 
 perished. 
 
 How long hast thou striven, Abos Tirhan, to destroy 
 me ! 
 
 But now have burning calamities befallen thee. 
 
 Thou hast fallen into a pit into which none shall de- 
 scend without finding in it the blasts of death." 
 
 After this the fox remained in the vineyard alone, 
 and in security, fearing no mischief. 
 
THE SHEPHEED AND THE JOGIE. 
 
 It is related that during the reign of a king of 
 Cutch, named Lakeh, a Jogie lived, who was a wise 
 man, and wonderfully skilled in the preparation of 
 herbs. For years he had been occupied in search- 
 ing for a peculiar kind of grass, the roots of which 
 should be burnt, and a man be thrown into the 
 flames. The body so burnt would become gold, and 
 any of the members might be removed without the 
 body sustaining any loss, as the parts so taken 
 would always be self-restored. 
 
 It so occurred that this Jogie, whilst following a 
 flock of goats, observed one amongst them eating of 
 the grass he was so anxious to procure. He imme- 
 diately rooted it up, and desired the shepherd who 
 was near to assist him in procuring firewood. 
 When he had collected the wood and kindled a 
 flame, into which the grass was thrown, the Jogie, 
 wishing to render the shepherd the victim of his 
 avarice, desired him, under some pretence, to make 
 a few circuits round the fire. The man, however, 
 suspecting foul play, watched his opportunity, and^ 
 
 184 
 
THE SHEPHERD AND THE JOGIE. 185 
 
 seizing the Jogie himself, he threw him into the fire 
 and left him to be consumed. Next day, on return- 
 ing to the spot, great was his surprise to behold the 
 golden figure of a man lying amongst the embers. 
 He immediately chopped off one of the limbs and 
 hid it. The next day he returned to take another, 
 when his astonishment was yet greater to see that a 
 fresh limb had replaced the one already taken. In 
 short, the shepherd soon became wealthy, and re- 
 vealed the secret of his riches to the king, Lakeh, 
 who, by the same means, accumulated so much gold 
 that every day he was in the habit of giving one 
 lac and twenty- five thousand rupees in alms to 
 fakirs. 
 
THE PEEFIDIOUS VIZIER 
 
 A KING of former times had an only son, whom he 
 contracted in marriage to the daughter of another 
 king. But the damsel, who was endowed with 
 great beauty, had a cousin who had sought her in 
 marriage, and had been rejected ; wherefore he sent 
 great presents to the vizier of the king just men- 
 tioned, requesting him to employ some stratagem by 
 which to destroy his master's son, or to induce him 
 to relinquish the damsel. The vizier consented. 
 Then the father of the damsel sent to the king's 
 son, inviting him to come and introduce himself to 
 his daughter, to take her as his wife; and the 
 father of the young man sent him with the 
 treacherous vizier, attended by a thousand horse- 
 men, and provided with rich presents. When they 
 were proceeding over the desert, the vizier remem- 
 bered that there was near unto them a spring of 
 water called Ez-zahra, and that whosoever drank of 
 it, if he were a man, became a woman. He there- 
 fore ordered the troops to alight near it, and in- 
 
 186 
 
THE PERFIDIOUS VIZIEIl. 187 
 
 duced the prince to go thither with him. When 
 they arrived at the spring, the king's son dis- 
 mounted from his courser, and washed his hands, 
 and drank ; and lo ! he became a woman ; where- 
 upon he cried out and wept until he fainted. The 
 vizier asked him what had befallen him, so the 
 young man informed him; and on hearing his 
 words, the vizier affected to be grieved for him, and 
 wept. The king's son then sent the vizier back to 
 his father to inform him of this event, determining 
 not to proceed nor to return until his affliction 
 should be removed from him, or until he should 
 die. 
 
 He remained by the fountain during a period of 
 three days and nights, neither eating nor drinking, 
 and on the fourth night there came to him a horse- 
 man with a crown upon his head, appearing like one 
 of the sons of the kings. This horseman said to 
 him, " Who brought you, young man, unto this 
 place 1 " So the young man told him his story ; 
 and when the horseman heard it, he pitied him, and 
 said to him, " The vizier of thy father is the person 
 who hath thrown thee into this calamity ; for no 
 one of mankind knoweth of this spring excepting 
 one man." Then the horseman ordered him to 
 mount with him. He therefore mounted ; and the 
 horseman said to him, " Come with me to my 
 abode : for thou art my guest this night." The 
 young man replied, " Inform me who thou art before 
 
188 ORIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 I SO with thee." And the horseman said, "I am 
 the son of a king of the Jinn, and thou art son 
 of a king of mankind. And now, be of good heart 
 and cheerful eye on account of that which shall 
 dispel thine anxiety and thy grief, for it is unto 
 me easy." 
 
 So the young man proceeded with him from the 
 commencement of the day, forsaking his troops and 
 soldiers (whom the vizier had left at their halting- 
 place), and ceased not to travel on with his con- 
 ductor until midnight, when the son of the king of 
 the Jinn said to him, " Knowest thou what space 
 we have traversed during this period 1 " The young 
 man answered him, " I know not." The son of the 
 king of the Jinn said, " "We have traversed a space 
 of a year's journey to him who travelleth with 
 diligence." So the young man wondered thereat, 
 and asked, " How shall I return to my family 1 " 
 The other answered, " This is not thine affair. It 
 is my affair ; and when thou shalt have recovered 
 from thy misfortune, thou shalt return to thy family 
 in less time than the twinkling of an eye, for to 
 accomplish that will be to me easy." The young 
 man, on hearing these words from the Jinnee, almost 
 flew with excessive delight. He thought that the 
 event was a result of confused dreams, and said, 
 " Extolled be the perfection of him who is able to 
 restore the wretched, and render him prosperous ! " 
 They ceased not to proceed until morning, when 
 
THE PERFIDIOUS VIZIER. 189 
 
 they arrived at a verdant, bright land, with tall 
 trees, and warbling birds, and gardens of surpassing 
 beauty, and fair palaces ; and thereupon the son of 
 the king of the Jinn alighted from his courser, 
 commanding the young man also to dismount. He 
 therefore dismounted, and the Jinnee took him by 
 the hand, and they entered one of the palaces, where 
 the young man beheld an exalted king and a 
 sultan of great dignity, and he remained with them 
 that day, eating and drinking, until the approach of 
 nicfht. Then the son of the kinsr of the Jinn arose 
 and mounted with him, and they went forth, and 
 proceeded during the night with diligence until the 
 morning. And lo ! they came to a black land, not 
 inhabited, abounding with black rocks and stones, 
 as though it were a part of hell; whereupon the 
 son of the king of men said to the Jinnee, " What is 
 the name of this land 1 " And he answered, *' It is 
 called the Dusky Land, and belongeth to one of the 
 kings of the Jinn, whose name is Zu-1-Jenaheyn. 
 None of the kings can attack him, nor doth any one 
 enter his territory unless by his permission, so stop 
 in thy place while I ask his permission." Accord- 
 ingly the young man stopped, and the Jinn was 
 absent from him for a while, and then returned 
 to him; and they ceased not to proceed until 
 they came to a spring flowing from black 
 mountains. The Jinnee said to the young man, 
 ■" Alight." He therefore alighted from his courser, 
 
190 ORIENTAL FOLKLOKE TALES. 
 
 and the Jinnee said to him, "Drink of this 
 spring." 
 
 The young prince drank of it, and immediately 
 became again a man, as he was at first, by the 
 power of God (whose name be exalted !), whereat 
 he rejoiced with great joy, not to be exceeded. 
 And he said to the Jinn, " my brother, 
 what is the name of this spring ? " The Jinnee 
 answered, " It is called the Spring of the Women : 
 no woman drinketh of it but she becometh a 
 man ; therefore praise God, and thank Him for 
 thy restoration, and mount thy courser." So 
 the king's son prostrated himself, thanking God 
 (whose name be exalted !). Then he mounted, 
 and they journeyed with diligence during the 
 rest of the day until they had returned to the 
 land of the Jinnee, and the young man passed the 
 night in his abode in the most comfortable manner ; 
 after which they ate and drank until the next 
 night, when the son of the king of the Jinn said 
 to him, " Dost thou desire to return to thy family 
 this night V The young man answered, "Yes." 
 So the son of the king of the Jinn called one of his 
 father's slaves, whose name was Eajiz, and said to 
 him, " Take this young man hence, and carry him 
 upon thy shoulders, and let not the dawn overtake 
 him before he is with his father-in-law and his 
 wife." The slave replied, ^'I hear and obey, and 
 with feelings of love and honour will I do it." 
 
THE PERFIDIOUS VIZIER. 191 
 
 Then the slave absented himself for a while, and 
 approached in the form of an 'Efreet. And when the 
 young man saw him his reason fled, and he was 
 stupefied ; but the son of the king of the Jinn said 
 to him, "No harm shall befall thee. Mount thy 
 courser. Ascend upon his shoulders." The young 
 man then mounted upon the slave's shoulders, and 
 the son of the king of the Jinn said to him, " Close 
 thine eyes." So he closed his eyes, and the slave 
 flew with him between heaven and earth, and ceased 
 not to fly along with him while the young man 
 was unconscious, and the last third of the night 
 came not before he was on the top of the palace of 
 his father-in-law. Then the 'Efreet said to him, 
 " Alight." He therefore alighted. And the 'Efreet 
 said to him, " Open thine eyes ; for this is the palace 
 of thy father-in-law and his daughter." Then he 
 left him and departed. And as soon as the day 
 shone, and the alarm of the young man subsided, 
 he descended from the roof of the palace ; and when 
 his father-in-law beheld him, he rose to him and 
 met him, wondering at seeing him descend from the 
 top of the palace, and he said to him, "We see 
 other men come through the doors, but thou comest 
 down from the sky." The young man replied, 
 " What God (whose perfection be extolled, and 
 whose name be exalted!) desired hath happened." 
 And when the sun rose, his father-in-law ordered 
 his vizier to prepare great banquets, and the wedding 
 
192 OEIENTAL FOLKLORE TALES. 
 
 was celebrated ; the young man remained there two 
 months, and then departed with his wife to the 
 city of his father. But as to the cousin of the 
 damsel, he perished by reason of his jealousy and 
 
 envy. 
 
 ,7/^'^ 
 
 Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty, 
 
 at the Edinburgh University Press.