Fairy Tales of the Slav Peasants and Herdsmen
lovingly at the beautiful daughter sleeping by her side, and she
wondered, as she saw her smile, what happy dream had visited her. Then
she finished her prayer, and laying her head on the girl's pillow,
fell asleep. Next day she said, "Come, darling child, tell me what you
were dreaming about last night, you looked so happy smiling in your
sleep."
"Oh yes, mother, I remember. I had a very beautiful dream. I thought a
rich nobleman came to our house, in a splendid carriage of brass, and
gave me a ring set with stones, that sparkled like the stars of
heaven. When I entered the church with him, it was full of people, and
they all thought me divine and adorable, like the Blessed Virgin."
"Ah! my child, what sin! May God keep you from such dreams."
But the daughter ran away singing, and busied herself about the house.
The same day a handsome young farmer drove into the village in his
cart and begged them to come and share his country bread. He was a
kind fellow, and the mother liked him much. But the daughter refused
his invitation, and insulted him into the bargain.
"Even if you had driven in a carriage of brass," she said, "and had
offered me a ring set with stones shining as the stars in heaven, I
would never have married you--you, a mere peasant!"
The young farmer was terribly upset at her words, and with a prayer
for her soul, returned home a saddened man. But her mother scolded and
reproached her.
The next night the woman again awoke, and taking her rosary prayed
with still greater fervour, that God would bless her child. This time
the girl laughed as she slept.
"What can the poor child be dreaming about?" she said to herself: and
sighing she prayed for her again. Then she laid her head upon her
pillow and tried in vain to sleep. In the morning, when her daughter
was dressing, she said: "Well, my dear, you were dreaming again last
night, and laughing like a maniac."
"Was I? Listen, I dreamt a nobleman came for me in a silver carriage,
and gave me a golden diadem. When I entered the church with him, the
people admired and worshipped me more than the Blessed Virgin."
"Ay me, what a terrible dream! what a wicked dream! Pray God not to
lead you into temptation."
Then she scolded her daughter severely and went out, slamming the door
after her. That same day a carriage drove into the village, and some
gentlemen invited mother and daughter to share the bread of the lord
of the manor. The mother considered such an offer a great honour, but
the daughter refused it and replied to the gentlemen scornfully: "Even
if you had come to fetch me in a carriage of solid silver and had
presented me with a golden diadem, I would never have consented to be
the wife of your lord."
The gentlemen turned away in disgust and returned home; the mother
rebuked her severely for so much pride.
"Miserable, foolish girl!" she cried, "pride is a breath from hell. It
is your duty to be humble, honest, and sweet-tempered."
The daughter replied by a laugh.
The third night she slept soundly, but the poor woman at her side
could not close her eyes. Tormented with dark forebodings, she feared
some misfortune was about to happen, and counted her beads, praying
fervently. All at once the young sleeper began to sneer and laugh.
"Merciful God! ah me!" cried the poor woman, "what are these dreams
that worry her poor brain!"
In the morning she said, "What made you sneer so frightfully last
night? You must have had bad dreams again, my poor child."
"Now, mother, you look as if you were going to preach again."
"No, no; but I want to know what you were dreaming about."
"Well, I dreamt some one drove up in a golden carriage and asked me to
marry him, and he brought me a mantle of cloth of pure gold. When we
came into church, the crowd pressed forward to kneel before me."
The mother wrung her hands piteously, and the girl left the room to
avoid hearing her lamentations. That same day three carriages entered
the yard, one of brass, one of silver, and one of gold. The first was
drawn by two, the second by three, the third by four magnificent
horses. Gentlemen wearing scarlet gloves and green mantles got out of
the brass and silver carriages, while from the golden carriage
alighted a prince who, as the sun shone on him, looked as if he were
dressed in gold. They all made their way to the widow and asked for
her daughter's hand.
"I fear we are not worthy of so much honour," replied the widow
meekly, but when the daughter's eyes fell upon her suitor she
recognised in him the lover of her dreams, and withdrew to weave an
aigrette of many-coloured feathers. In exchange for this aigrette
which she offered her bridegroom, he placed upon her finger a ring set
with stones that shone like the stars in heaven, and over her
shoulders a mantle of cloth of gold. The young bride, beside herself
with joy, retired to complete her toilette. Meanwhile the anxious
mother, a prey to the blackest forebodings, said to her son-in-law,
"My daughter has consented to share your bread, tell me of what sort
of flour it is made?"
"In our house we have bread of brass, of silver, and of gold; my wife
will be free to choose."
Such a reply astonished her more than ever, and made her still more
unhappy. The daughter asked no questions, was in fact content to know
nothing, not even what her mother suffered. She looked magnificent in
her bridal attire and golden mantle, but she left her home with the
prince without saying good-bye either to her mother or to her youthful
companions. Neither did she ask her mother's blessing, though the
latter wept and prayed for her safety.
After the marriage ceremony they mounted the golden carriage and set
off, followed by the attendants of silver and brass. The procession
moved slowly along the road without stopping until it reached the foot
of a high rock. Here, instead of a carriage entrance, was a large
cavern which led out into a steep slope down which the horses went
lower and lower. The giant _Zemo-tras_ (he who makes the earthquakes)
closed the opening with a huge stone. They made their way in darkness
for some time, the terrified bride being reassured by her husband.
"Fear nothing," said he, "in a little while it will be clear and
beautiful."
Grotesque dwarfs, carrying lighted torches, appeared on all sides,
saluted and welcomed their King Kovlad as they illumined the road for
him and his attendants. Then for the first time the girl knew she had
married Kovlad, but this mattered little to her. On coming out from
these gloomy passages into the open they found themselves surrounded
by large forests and mountains, mountains that seemed to touch the
sky. And, strange to relate, all the trees of whatsoever kind, and
even the mountains that seemed to touch the sky, were of solid lead.
When they had crossed these marvellous mountains the giant Zemo-tras
closed all the openings in the road they had passed. They then drove
out upon vast and beautiful plains, in the centre of which was a
golden palace covered with precious stones. The bride was weary with
looking at so many wonders, and gladly sat down to the feast prepared
by the dwarfs. Meats of many kinds were served, roast and boiled, but
lo! they were of metal--brass, silver, and gold. Every one ate
heartily and enjoyed the food, but the young wife, with tears in her
eyes, begged for a piece of bread.
"Certainly, madam, with pleasure," answered Kovlad. But she could not
eat the bread which was brought, for it was of brass. Then the king
sent for a piece of silver bread, still she could not eat it; and
again for a slice of golden bread, that too she was unable to bite.
The servants did all they could to get something to their mistress's
taste, but she found it impossible to eat anything.
"I should be most happy to gratify you," said Kovlad "but we have no
other kind of food."
Then she realised for the first time in whose power she had placed
herself, and she began to weep bitterly and wish she had taken her
mother's advice.
"It is of no use to weep and regret," said Kovlad, "you must have
known the kind of bread you would have to break here; your wish has
been fulfilled."
And so it was, for nothing can recall the past. The wretched girl was
obliged henceforth to live underground with her husband Kovlad, the
God of Metals, in his golden palace. And this because she had set her
heart upon nothing but the possession of gold, and had never wished
for anything better.
II
THE LOST CHILD
Long long ago there lived a very rich nobleman. But though he was so
rich he was not happy, for he had no children to whom he could leave
his wealth. He was, besides, no longer young. Every day he and his
wife went to church to pray for a son. At last, after long waiting,
God sent them what they desired. Now the evening before its arrival
the father dreamed that its chance of living would depend upon one
condition, namely, that its feet never touched the earth until it was
twelve years old. Great care was taken that this should be avoided,
and when the little stranger came, only trustworthy nurses were
employed to look after him. As the years passed on the child was
diligently guarded, sometimes he was carried in his nurses' arms,
sometimes rocked in his golden cradle, but his feet never touched the
ground.
Now when the end of the time drew near the father began preparations
for a magnificent feast which should be given to celebrate his son's
release. One day while these were in progress a frightful noise,
followed by most unearthly yells, shook the castle. The nurse dropped
the child in her terror and ran to the window: that instant the noises
ceased. On turning to take up the boy, imagine her dismay when she
found him no longer there, and remembered that she had disobeyed her
master's orders.
Hearing her screams and lamentations, all the servants of the castle
ran to her. The father soon followed, asking, "What is the matter?
What has happened? Where is my child?" The nurse, trembling and
weeping, told of the disappearance of his son, his only child. No
words can tell the anguish of the father's heart. He sent servants in
every direction to hunt for his boy, he gave orders, he begged and
prayed, he threw away money right and left, he promised everything if
only his son might be restored to him. Search was made without loss of
time, but no trace of him could be discovered; he had vanished as
completely as if he had never existed.
Many years later the unhappy nobleman learnt that in one of the most
beautiful rooms of the castle, footsteps, as of some one walking up
and down, and dismal groans, were heard every midnight. Anxious to
follow the matter up, for he thought it might in some way concern his
lost son, he made known that a reward of three hundred gold pieces
would be given to any one who would watch for one whole night in the
haunted room. Many were willing, but had not the courage to stay till
the end; for at midnight, when the dismal groans were heard, they
would run away rather than risk their lives for three hundred gold
pieces. The poor father was in despair, and knew not how to discover
the truth of this dark mystery.
Now close to the castle dwelt a widow, a miller by trade, who had
three daughters. They were very poor, and hardly earned enough for
their daily needs. When they heard of the midnight noises in the
castle and the promised reward, the eldest daughter said, "As we are
so very poor we have nothing to lose; surely we might try to earn
these three hundred gold pieces by remaining in the room one night. I
should like to try, mother, if you will let me."
The mother shrugged her shoulders, she hardly knew what to say; but