Fairy Tales of the Slav Peasants and Herdsmen
the Maid with the Golden Locks; the horse, Zlato-Nrivak, was fastened
to a tree, and the fire-bird roosted in his golden cage.
The hearts of the two brothers were filled with envious and wicked
thoughts, and they whispered thus to one another, "Just think what
will become of us--the youngest will receive half of the kingdom
during our father's life and succeed to the throne at his death; why
not cut his throat at once? One of us will take the Maid with the
Golden Locks, the other can carry the bird to our father and keep the
Horse with the Golden Mane; as for the kingdom, we will divide it
between us."
After this debate they killed their youngest brother and cut up his
body into small pieces, while they threatened to treat Zlato-Vlaska in
the same way if she attempted to disobey them.
On reaching home they sent the Horse with the Golden Mane to the
marble stables, the cage containing Ohnivak was placed in the room
where their father lay sick, and the princess was allowed a beautiful
suite of apartments and maids of honour to attend her.
When the king, who was much weakened by suffering, had looked at the
bird, he asked after his youngest son. To which the brothers replied:
"We have not seen or heard anything of him, it is very likely that he
has been killed."
The poor old man was much affected--it seemed, indeed, as if his last
hour had come. The fire-bird moped and refused to sing; the Horse with
the Golden Mane stood with his head bent down before his manger, and
would eat no food; while Princess Zlato-Vlaska remained as silent as
if she had been born dumb, her beautiful hair was neglected and
uncombed, and she wept--her tears fell fast.
Now as the red fox chanced to pass through the forest he came upon the
mangled body of the youngest brother, and he at once set to work to
put the scattered pieces together, but was unable to restore them to
life. At that moment a raven, accompanied by two young ones, came
hovering overhead. The fox crouched behind a bramble bush; and when
one of the young birds alighted upon the body to feed, he seized it
and made a pretence of strangling it. Upon which the parent bird, full
of anxious love and fear, perched upon a branch close by and croaked
as if to say, "Let my poor little nestling go. I have done you no
harm, neither have I worried you; let him free, and I will take the
first opportunity of returning your kindness."
"Just so," replied the red fox, "for I am greatly in need of some
kindness. Now if you will fetch me some of the Water of Death, and
some of the Water of Life, from the Red Sea, I will let your nestling
go safe and sound."
The old raven promised to fetch the water, and went off at once.
Within three days he returned, carrying in his beak two small bottles,
one full of the Water of Death, the other of the Water of Life. When
the red fox received them he wished first to try their effect upon
some living creature, so he cut the small raven up, and joining the
pieces together, watered them with the Water of Death. Instantly they
became a living bird, without mark or join anywhere. This he sprinkled
with the Water of Life, upon which the young raven spread its wings
and flew off to its family.
The red fox then performed the same operation on the body of the young
prince, and with the same happy result, for he rose again perfect in
form, and having about him no wound scars. On coming to life again,
all he said was, "Dear me! What a pleasant sleep I have had."
"I believe you," replied the red fox, "you would have gone on sleeping
for ever if I had not awakened you. And what a foolish young man you
are: did I not particularly order you not to stop anywhere, but to go
straight back to your father's house?"
He then related all that his brothers had done, and having obtained a
peasant's dress for him, led him to the outskirts of the forest, close
to the royal palace, where he left him.
The young prince then entered the palace grounds, unrecognised by the
servants, and on representing that he was in need of employment, was
appointed stable-boy to the royal stables. Some little time after he
heard the grooms lamenting that the Horse with the Golden Mane would
eat no food.
"What a pity it is," said they, "that this splendid steed should
starve to death; he droops his head and will take nothing."
"Give him," said the disguised prince, "some pea-straw; I bet you
anything he will eat that."
"But do you really think so? Why, our rough draught horses would
refuse such coarse food."
The prince's only answer was to fetch a bundle of pea-straw, which he
put into Zlato-Nrivak's marble trough: then, passing his hand gently
over his neck and mane, he said to him, "Grieve no more, my horse with
the golden mane."
The beautiful creature recognised his master's voice, and neighing
with joy, greedily devoured the pea-straw.
The news was noised about from one end of the palace to the other, and
the sick king summoned the boy to his presence.
"I hear you have made Zlato-Nrivak eat," said his majesty; "do you
think you could make my fire-bird sing? Go and examine him closely: he
is very sad, he droops his wings, and will neither eat nor drink. Ah
me! if he dies I shall certainly die too."
"Your majesty may rest assured, the bird will not die. Let him have
some husks of barley to eat, then he will soon be all right and begin
to sing."
The king ordered them to be brought, and the disguised prince put a
handful into Ohnivak's cage, saying, "Cheer up, my fire-bird."
As soon as Ohnivak heard his master's voice he shook himself, and made
his feathers shine with more than their usual brightness. Then he
began to dance about his cage, and pecking up the husks, sang so
exquisitely that the king immediately felt better, and it was as if a
great weight had been lifted off his heart. The fire-bird again burst
into song, and this so affected the king that he sat up quite well,
and embraced the disguised prince out of very gratitude.
"Now," said he, "teach me how to restore to health this beautiful
maiden with the golden hair whom my sons brought back with them; for
she will not speak a word, her beautiful hair remains uncared for, and
her tears fall night and day."
"If your majesty will allow me to speak a few words to her, it may be
the means of making her bright and happy."
The king himself led the way to her apartments, and the disguised
prince, taking her hand, said: "Look up a moment, sweetheart; why
these tears? And why grieve thus, dear bride?"
The maiden knew him at once, and with a cry of joy threw herself into
his arms. This astonished the king mightily, and he could not for the
life of him think how a stable-boy dare address such a princess as his
"dear bride."
The prince then addressed the king thus: "And are you indeed the only
one who does not know me? How is it, my father and sovereign, that you
have not recognised your youngest son? I alone have succeeded in
obtaining the Fire-Bird, the Horse with the Golden Mane, and the Maid
with the Golden Hair."
Thereupon he related all his adventures, and Zlato-Vlaska in her turn
told how the wicked brothers had threatened to kill her if she
betrayed them. As for these bad men, they shook from head to foot, and
trembled like leaves in the wind. The indignant king ordered them to
be executed then and there.
Not very long after these events the youngest prince married the
beautiful Zlato-Vlaska, and the king gave him half of his kingdom as a
wedding present. When the old king died he reigned in his stead, and
lived happily with the princess ever after.
TEARS OF PEARLS
TEARS OF PEARLS
Once upon a time there lived a very rich widow, with whom lived three
children--a handsome stepson; his sister, who was marvellously
beautiful; and her own daughter, passably good-looking.
All three children lived under the same roof, but, as is often the
case where there are step-parents, they were treated very differently.
The lady's own daughter was bad-tempered, disobedient, vain, and of a
tell-tale disposition: yet she was made much of, praised, and
caressed. The step-children were treated very harshly: the boy,
kind-hearted and obliging, was made to do all sorts of hard unpleasant
work, was constantly scolded, and looked upon as a good-for-nothing.
The step-daughter, who was not only exceedingly pretty but was as
sweet as an angel, was found fault with on all occasions, and her life
made utterly miserable.
It is, after all, but natural to love one's own children better than
those of others, but the feeling of love should be governed by the
laws of fairness. Now this wicked woman was blind to the faults of the
child she loved, and to the good qualities of her husband's children,
whom she hated.
When in a bad temper she was fond of boasting of the handsome fortune
she intended securing for her own daughter, even though the
step-children should be unprovided for. But, as the old proverb says,
"Man proposes, but God disposes." We shall therefore see how things
turned out.
One Sunday morning, before going to church, the step-daughter went
into the garden to pick some flowers for decorating the altar. She had
only gathered a few roses when, looking up, she saw quite close to her
three young men robed in dazzling white garments. They sat on a bench
shaded by shrubs, while near them was an old man who asked her for
alms.
She felt rather nervous before the strangers, but when she saw the old
man she took her last penny from her purse and gave it him. He thanked
her, and raising his hand over the girl's head, said to the men: "This
orphan girl is pious, patient under misfortune, and kind to the poor,
with whom she shares the little she has. Tell me what you wish for
her."
The first said, "I wish that when she weeps her tears may be changed
into so many pearls."
"And I," replied the second, "that when she smiles sweet roses may
fall from her lips."
"My wish," said the third, "is that whenever she dips her hands into
water there shall appear in it shining gold-fish."
"All these gifts shall be hers," added the old man. And with these
words they vanished.
The maiden was filled with awe, and fell on her knees in prayer. Then
her heart was filled with joy and peace, and she went back into the
house. She had scarcely crossed the threshold when her stepmother came
forward, and looking at her sternly, said, "Well, where have you
been?"
The poor child began to cry, when--marvel of marvels--instead of
tears, pearls fell from her eyes.
Notwithstanding her rage, the stepmother picked them up as quickly as
possible, while the girl smiled as she watched her. And as she smiled
roses fell from her lips, and her stepmother was beside herself with
delight.
The girl then went to put the flowers she had gathered in water; and
as she dipped her fingers in it while arranging them, pretty little
gold-fish appeared in the bowl.
From that day these marvels were constantly occurring; the tears were
changed into pearls, the smiles scattered roses, and the water, even
if she dipped but the tips of her fingers in, was filled with
gold-fish.
The stepmother softened and became more gentle, while little by little
she managed to draw from her step-child the secret of these gifts.
So next Sunday morning she sent her own daughter into the garden to
gather flowers, under pretence of their being for the altar. When she
had picked a few, she raised her eyes and saw the three young men
sitting on a low seat, while near them stood the little old man with
white hair, begging for alms. She pretended to be shy before the young
men, but at the beggar's request drew from her pocket a gold piece,