 Mohti, from the Lilac Fairy Book. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Caitlin Sticko, 2007. The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, Editor. Mohti, a tale from the Middle East. Since upon a time there was a youth called Mohti, who was very big and strong, but the clumsiest creature you can imagine. So clumsy was he, that he was always putting his great feet into the bowls of sweet milk or curds which his mother set out on the floor to cool, always smashing, upsetting, breaking, until at last his father said to him, here, Mohti, are fifty silver pieces which are the savings of years. Take them and go, and make your living or your fortune if you can. Then Mohti started off one early spring morning with his thick staff over his shoulder, singing gaily to himself as he walked along. In one way or another he got along very well until a hot evening when he came to a certain city where he entered the traveller's sarai, or inn, to pass the night. Now a sarai, you must know, is generally just a large square enclosed by a high wall with an open colonnade along the inside all round to accommodate both men and beasts, and with perhaps a few rooms in towers at the corners for those who are too rich or too proud to care about sleeping by their own camels and horses. Mohti, of course, was a country lad, and had lived with cattle all of his life, and he wasn't rich, and he wasn't proud, so he just borrowed a bed from the innkeeper, set it down beside an old buffalo who reminded him of home, and in five minutes was fast asleep. In the middle of the night he woke, feeling that he had been disturbed, and putting his hand under his pillow, found to his horror that his bag of money had been stolen. He jumped up quietly, and began to prowl around to see whether anyone seemed to be awake, but though he managed to arouse a few men and beasts by falling over them, he walked in the shadows of the archways round the whole sarai without coming across a likely thief. He was just about to give it up, when he overheard two men whispering, and one laughed softly, and peering behind a pillar, he saw two Afghan horse-dealers counting out his bag of money. Then Mohti went back to bed. In the morning Mohti followed the two Afghans outside the city to the horse market in which their horses were offered for sale. Choosing the best-looking horse amongst them he went up to it and said, Is this horse for sale? May I try it? And the merchants assenting, he scrambled up onto its back, dug in his heels, and off they flew. Now Mohti had never been on a horse in his life, and had so much adieu to hold on with both hands as well as with both legs that the animal just went where it liked, and very soon broke into a breakneck gallop and made straight back to the sarai where it had spent the last few nights. The horse will do very well, thought Mohti, as they whirled in at the entrance. As soon as the horse had arrived at its table it stopped of its own accord, and Mohti immediately rolled off, but he jumped up at once, tied the beast up, and called for some breakfast. Presently the Afghans appeared, out of breath and furious, and claimed the horse. What do you mean, cried Mohti, with his mouth full of rice? It's my horse! I paid you fifty pieces of silver for it! It's a bargain, I'm sure. Nonsense! It is our horse! answered one of the Afghans, beginning to untie the bridle. Leave off! shouted Mohti, seizing his staff. And if you don't let my horse alone, I'll crack your skulls, you thieves! I know you! Last night you took my money, so today I took your horse! That's fair enough. Now the Afghans began to look a little uncomfortable, but Mohti seemed so determined to keep the horse that they resolved to appeal to the law, so they went off and laid a complaint before the king that Mohti had stolen one of their horses and would not give it up nor pay for it. Presently a soldier came to summon Mohti to the king, and when he arrived and made his obeisance the king began to question him as to why he had galloped off with the horse in this fashion. But Mohti declared that he had got the animal in exchange for fifty pieces of silver, whilst the horse merchants found that the money they had on them was what they had received for the sale of other horses. And in one way or another the dispute got so confusing that the king, who really thought that Mohti had stolen the horse, said at last, Well, I tell you what I will do. I will lock something into this box before me, and if he guesses what it is the horse is his. And if he doesn't, then it is yours. To this Mohti agreed, and the king arose and went out alone by a little door at the back of the court, and presently came back, clasping something closely wrapped up in a cloth under his robe, and slipped it into the little box, locked the box, and set it up where all might see. Now! said the king to Mohti. Yes! It had happened that when the king had opened the door behind him, Mohti had noticed that there was a garden outside. Without waiting for the king's return he began to think, what could be got out of the garden small enough to be shut in the box? Is it likely to be a fruit or a flower? No, not a flower this time, for he clasped it too tight. Then it must be a fruit or a stone. But not a stone, because he wouldn't wrap a dirty stone in his nice clean cloth. Then it is a fruit, and a fruit without much scent, or else he would be afraid that I might smell it. Now what fruit without much scent is in season just now? When I know that I shall have guessed the riddle. As has been said before, Mohti was a country lad, and was accustomed to work in his father's gardens. He knew all the common fruits, so he thought he ought to be able to guess right. But so as not to let it seem too easy, he gazed up at the ceiling with a puzzled expression, and looked down at the floor with an air of wisdom, and his fingers pressed against his forehead, and then he said slowly with his eyes on the king. It is freshly plucked. It is round, and it is red. It is a pomegranate! Now the king knew nothing about fruits except that they were good to eat, and as for seasons he asked for whatever fruit he wanted whenever he wanted it, and saw that he got it. So to him Mohti's guess was like a miracle and clear proof not only of his wisdom but of his innocence, for it was a pomegranate that he had put into the box. Of course, when the king marveled and praised Mohti's wisdom everybody else did so too, and whilst the Afghans went off crestfallen, Mohti took the horse, and entered the king's service. Very soon after this, Mohti, who continued to live in the Sarai, came back one wet and stormy evening to find that his precious horse had strayed. Nothing remained of him but a broken halter-cord, and no one knew what had become of him. After inquiring of everyone who was likely to know, Mohti seized the cord and his big staff and sallied out to look for him. Away and away he tramped out of the city and into the neighbouring forest, tracking hoof marks in the mud. Presently it grew late, but still Mohti wandered on until suddenly, in the gathering darkness, he came right upon a tiger who was contentedly eating his horse. You thief! shrieked Mohti, and ran up, and just as the tiger, in astonishment, dropped a bone, whack came Mohti's staff on his head with such good will that the beast was half stunned and could hardly breathe or see. Then Mohti continued to shower upon him blows and abuse until the poor tiger could hardly stand, whereupon his tormentor tied the end of the broken halter round his neck and dragged him back to the Sarai. If you have had my horse, he said, I will at least have you, that's fair enough. And he tied him up securely by the head and heels, much as he used to tie the horse. Then, the night being far gone, he flung himself beside him and slept soundly. You cannot imagine anything like the fright of the people in the Sarai when they woke up and found a tiger, very battered, but still a tiger, securely tethered amongst themselves and their beasts. Men gathered in groups talking and exclaiming and finding fault with the innkeeper for allowing such a dangerous beast into the Sarai, and all the while the innkeeper was just as troubled as the rest, and none dared go near the place where the tiger stood blinking miserably on everyone and where Mohti lay stretched out, snoring like thunder. At last news reached the king that Mohti had exchanged his horse for a live tiger, and the monarch himself came down, half disbelieving the tale, to see if it were really true. Someone at last awaked Mohti with the news that his royal master was come, and he arose yawning and was soon delightedly explaining and showing off his new possession. The king, however, did not share his pleasure at all, but called up a soldier to shoot the tiger, much to the relief of all the inmates of the Sarai except Mohti. If the king, however, was before convinced that Mohti was one of the wisest of men, he was now still more convinced that he was the bravest, and he increased his pay a hundredfold, so that our hero thought he was the luckiest of men. A week or two after this incident the king sent for Mohti, who on arrival found his master in despair. A neighbouring monarch, he explained, who had many more soldiers than he, had declared war against him, and he was at his wit's end, for he had neither money to buy him off, nor soldiers enough to fight him. What was he to do? "'If that's all, don't you trouble,' said Mohti. "'Turn out your men, and I'll go with them, and we'll soon bring this robber to reason.' The king began to revive at these hopeful words, and took Mohti off to his stable, where he bade him choose for himself any horse he liked. There were plenty of fine horses in the stalls, but to the king's astonishment Mohti chose a poor little rat of a pony that used to carry grass and water for the rest of the stable. "'But why do you choose that beast?' said the king. "'Well, you see, Your Majesty,' replied Mohti. "'There are so many chances that I may fall off, and if I choose one of your fine big horses, I shall have so far to fall that I shall probably break my leg or my arm if not my neck, but if I fall off this little beast I can't hurt myself much.' A very comical sight was Mohti when he rode out to the war. The only weapon he carried was his staff, and to help him keep his balance on horseback he had tied to each of his ankles a big stone that nearly touched the ground as he sat astride the little pony. The rest of the king's cavalry were not very numerous, but they pranced along in armour on fine horses. Behind them came a great rabble of men on foot armed with all sorts of weapons, and last of all was the king with his attendance, very nervous and ill at ease. So the army started. They had not very far to go, but Mohti's little pony, weighted with a heavy man and two big rocks, soon began to lag behind the cavalry, and would have lagged behind the infantry too, only they were not very anxious to be too early in the fight and hung back, so as to give Mohti plenty of time. The young man jogged along more and more slowly for some time until at last, getting impatient at the slowness of the pony, he gave him such a tremendous thwack with his staff that the pony completely lost his temper and bolted. First one stone became untied and rolled away in a cloud of dust to one side of the road, whilst Mohti nearly rolled off too, but clasped his deed valiantly by its ragged mane, and dropping his staff held on for dear life. Then fortunately the other rock broke away from his other leg, and rolled thunderously down a neighbouring ravine. Meanwhile the advanced cavalry had barely time to draw to one side when Mohti came dashing by, yelling bloodthirsty threats to his pony. You wait till I get a hold of you, I'll skin you alive, I'll ring your neck, I'll break every bone in your body! The cavalry thought that this dreadful language was meant for the enemy, and they were filled with admiration of his courage. Many of their horses, too, were quite upset by this whirlwind that galloped howling through their midst, and in a few minutes, after a little plunging and rearing and kicking, the whole troop were following on Mohti's heels. Far in advance Mohti continued his wild career. Presently in his course he came to a great field of castor oil plants, ten or twelve feet high, big and bushy, but quite green and soft. Looking to escape from the back of his fiery steed, Mohti grasped one in passing, but its roots gave way, and he dashed on, with the whole plant looking like a young tree flourishing in his grip. The enemy were in battle array, advancing over the plain, their king with them, confident and cheerful, when suddenly from the front came a desperate rider at a furious gallop. Sire, he cried, save yourself, the enemy are coming. What do you mean, said the king? Oh, Sire, panted the messenger, fly at once, there is no time to lose. Foremost of the enemy rides a mad giant at a furious gallop. He flourishes a tree for a club, and is wild with anger for as he goes he cries, you wait till I get a hold of you, I'll skin you alive, I'll ring your neck, I'll break every bone in your body. Others ride behind, and you will do welch retire before this whirlwind of destruction comes upon you. Just then, out of a cloud of dust in the distance, the king saw Mohti approaching at a hard gallop, looking indeed like a giant compared with the little beast he rode, whirling his castor oil plant, which in the distance might have been an oak tree, and the sound of his revilings and shoutings came down upon the breeze. Behind him the dust cloud moved to the sound of the thunder and hooves, whilst here and there flashed the glitter of steel. The sight and the sound struck terror into the king, and turning his horse he fled at top speed, thinking that a regiment of yelling giants was upon him, and all his force followed him as fast as they might go. One fat officer alone could not keep up on foot with that mad rush, and as Mohti came galloping up he flung himself on the ground in abject fear. This was too much for Mohti's excited pony, who shied so suddenly that Mohti went flying over his head like a skyrocket, and alighted right on top of his fat foe. Quickly regaining his feet, Mohti began to swing his plant round his head and to shout, Where are your men? Bring them up and I'll kill them! My regiments! Come on, the whole lot of you! Where is your king? Bring him to me! Here are all my fine fellows coming up, and we'll each pull a tree by the roots and lay you all flat in your houses and towns and everything else. Come on!" But the poor fat officer could do nothing but squaden his knees with his hands together, gasping. At last, when he had got his breath, Mohti sent him off to bring his king, and to tell him that, if he was reasonable, his life should be spared. Off the poor man went, and by the time the troops of Mohti's side had come up and arranged themselves to look as formidable as possible, he returned with his king. The latter was very humble and apologetic, and promised never to make war any more, to pay a large sum of money, and altogether to do whatever his conqueror wished. So the armies on both sides went rejoicing home. And this was really the making of the fortune of Clumsy Mohti, who lived long and contrived always to be looked up to as a fountain of wisdom, valor, and discretion, by all except his relations, who could never understand what he had done to be considered so much wiser than any one else. A push-to-tail End of Chapter THE ENCHANTED DEAR From the Lailuk Fairy Book This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lizzie Driver. The Lailuk Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, editor. THE ENCHANTED DEAR A young man was out walking one day in Erron, leading a stout cartours by the bridle. He was thinking of his mother and how poor they were since his father, who was a fisherman, had been drowned at sea, and wondering what he should do to earn a living for both of them. Suddenly a hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice said to him, "'Will you somer your horse, son of the fisherman?' And looking up he beheld a man standing in the road, with a gun in his hand, a falcon on his shoulder, and a dog by his side. "'What will you give me for my horse?' asked the youth. "'Will you give me your gun, your dog, and your falcon?' "'I will give them,' answered the man. And he took the horse, and the youth took the gun and the dog and the falcon, and went home with them. But when his mother heard what he had done, she was very angry, and beat him with a stick which he had in her hand. "'That will teach you to sell my property,' said she, when her arm was quite tired. But Ian, her son, answered her nothing, and went off to his bed, for he was very sore. That night he rose softly, and left the house carrying the gun with him. "'I will not stay here to be beaten,' thought he, and he walked, and he walked, and he walked, till it was day again, and he was hungry, and looked about him to see if he could get anything to eat. Not very far off was the farmhouse, so he went there, and knocked at the door, and the farmer and his wife begged him to come in and share their breakfast. "'Ah, you have a gun,' said the farmer, as the young man placed it in a corner. "'That is well, for a deer comes every night to eat my corn, and I cannot catch it. It is fortune that has sent you to me.' "'I will gladly remain and shoot the deer for you,' replied the youth. And that night he hid himself, and watched till the deer came to the cornfield. Then he lifted his gun to his shoulder, and was just going to pull the trigger, when, behold, instead of a deer, a woman with long black hair was standing there. At this sight his gun almost dropped from his hand in surprise. But as he looked, there was the deer eating the corn again. And thrice this happened, till the deer ran away over the moor, and the young man after her. On they went, on and on and on, till they reached a cottage, which was thatched with heather, with a bound the deer sprang on the roof, and lay downward none could see her. But as she did so, she called out, "'Go in, Fisher's son, and eat and drink while you may.' So he entered, and found food and wine on the table. But no man, for the house belonged to some robbers, who were still away at their wicked business. After Ian, the Fisher's son, had eaten all he wanted, he hid himself behind a great cask, and very soon he heard a noise, as of men coming through the heather, and the small twigs snapping under their feet. From his dark corner he could see into the room, and he counted four and twenty of them, all big, cross-looking men. "'Someone has been eating our dinner,' cried they, and there was hardly enough for ourselves. It is the man who is lying under the cask,' answered the leader. "'Go and kill him, and then come and eat your food and sleep, for we must be off betimes in the morning.' So four of them killed the Fisher's son, and left him, and then went to bed. By sunrise they were all out of the house, for they had far to go. And when they had disappeared, the deer came off the roof, to where the dead man lay. And she shook her head over him, and wax fell from her ear, and he jumped up as well as ever. "'Trust me, and eat as you did before, and no harm shall happen to you,' said she. So Ian ate and drank, and fell sound asleep under the cask. In the evening the robbers arrived, very tired, and crossed with them they had been yesterday, for their luck had turned, and they had bought back scarcely anything. "'Someone has eaten our dinner again,' cried they. "'It is the man under the barrel,' answered the captain. "'Let four of you go and kill him, but first lay the other four, who pretended to kill him last night, and didn't, because he is still alive.' Then Ian was killed a second time, and after the rest of the robbers had eaten, they lay down and slept till morning. No sooner were their faces touched with the sun's rays than they were up and off. Then the deer entered, and dropped the healing wax on the dead man, and he was as well as ever. By this time he did not mind what befell him, so sure was he that the deer would take care of him. And, in the evening, that which had happened before happened again. The four robbers were put to death, and the fish's son also. But because there was no food left for them to eat, they were nearly mad with rage, and began to quarrel. From quarrelling they went on to fighting, and fought so hard, that by and by they were all stretched dead on the floor. Then the deer entered, and the fish's son was restored to life. And bidding him follow her, she ran on to a little white cottage, where dwelt an old woman and her son, who was thin and dark. Here I must leave you, said the deer, but to-morrow meet me at midday in the church that is yonder. And jumping across the stream, she vanished into a wood. Next day he set out for the church, but the old woman of the cottage had gone before him, and had stuck an enchanted stick called the Spike of Hurt, in a crack of the door, so that he would brush against it as he stepped across the threshold. Suddenly he felt so sleepy that he could not stand up, and throwing himself on the ground he sank into a deep slumber, not knowing that the dark lad was watching him. Nothing could waken him, not even the sound of sweetest music, nor the touch of a lady who bent over him. A sad look came on her face, as she saw it was no use. And at last she gave it up, and lifting his arm, wrote a name across the side, the daughter of the king of the town under the waves. I will come to-morrow," she whispered, though he could not hear her, and she went sorrowfully away. Then he awoke, and the dark lad told him what had befallen him, and he was very grieved. But the dark lad did not tell him of the name that was written underneath his arm. On the following morning the Fisher's son again went to the church, determined that he would not go to sleep whatever happened. But in his hurry to enter he touched with his hand the spike of hurt, and sank down where he stood, wrapped in slumber. A second time the air was filled with music, and the lady came in, stepping softly. But though she laid his head on her knee, and combed his hair with a golden comb, his eyes opened not. Then she burst into tears, and placing a beautifully wrought box in his pocket, she went her way. The next day the same thing befell the Fisher's son, and this time the lady wept more bitterly than before. For she said it was her last chance, and she would never be allowed to come any more, for home she must go. As soon as the lady had departed the Fisher's son awoke, and the dark lad told him of her visit, and how he would never see her as long as he lived. At this the Fisher's son felt the cold creeping up to his heart, yet he knew the fault had not been his that sleep had overtaken him. I will search the whole world through till I find her," cried he, and the dark lad laughed as he heard him. But the Fisher's son took no heed, and off he went, following the sun day after day, till his shoes were in holes and his feet were sore from the journey. Nowt did he see but the birds that make their nests in the trees, not so much as a goat or a rabbit. On and on and on he went, till suddenly he came upon a little house, with a woman standing outside it. All hail Fisher's son! said she. I know what you are seeking. Enter in and rest and eat, and to-morrow I will give you what to help I can, and send you on your way. Gladly did Ian the Fisher's son accept her offer, and all that day he rested, and the woman gave mointment put on his feet, which healed his sores. At daybreak he got up, ready to be gone, and the woman bade him farewell, saying, I have a sister who dwells on the road which you must travel. It is a long road, and it would take you a year and a day to reach it. But put on these old brown shoes, with holes all over them, and you will be there before you know it. Then shake them off, and turn their toes to the known, and their heels to the unknown, and they will come home of themselves. The Fisher's son did as the woman told him, and everything happened just as she had said. But at parting the second sister said to him, as she gave him another pair of shoes, Go to my third sister, for she has a son who is keeper of the birds of the air, and sends them to sleep when night comes. He is very wise, and perhaps he can help you. Then the young man thanked her, and went to third sister. The third sister was very kind, but had no counsel to give him, so he ate and drank and waited till her son came home. After he had sent all the birds to sleep, he thought a long while after his mother had told him the young man's story. And at last he said that he was hungry, and the cow must be killed, as he wanted some supper. So the cow was killed, and the meat cooked, and a bag made of its red skin. Now get into the bag, and the young man got in, and took his gun with him, but to the dog and the falcon he left outside. The keeper of the birds drew the string at the top of the bag, and left it to finish his supper. When in flew an eagle through the open door, and picked up the bag in her claws, and carried it through the air to an island. There was nothing to eat on the island, and the Fisher's son thought he would die of food, when he remembered the box that the lady had put in his pocket. He opened the lid, and three tiny little birds flew out, and flapping their wings they asked, "'Good master, is there anything we can do for thee?' Bear me to the kingdom of the king under the waves,' he answered. And one little bird flew onto his head, and the others perched on each of his shoulders, and he shut his eyes. And in a moment there he was, in the country under the sea. Then the little birds flew away, and the young man looked about him, his heart beating fast at the thought that he had dwelt the lady whom he had sought all the world over. He walked on through the streets, and presently he reached the house of a weaver who was standing at his door, resting from his work. "'You are a stranger here, that is plain,' said the weaver, "'but come in, and I will give you food and drink.' And the young man was glad, for he knew not where to go, and they sat and talked till it grew late. "'Stay with me, I pray, for I love company, and I am lonely,' observed the weaver at last, and he pointed to a bed in a corner, where the fish's son threw himself, and slept till dawn. "'There is to be a horse-race in the town to-day,' remarked the weaver, and the winner is to have the king's daughter to-wife.' The young man trembled with excitement at the news, and his voice shook as he answered, "'That will be a prize, indeed. I should like to see the race.' "'Oh, that is quite easy. Anyone can go,' replied the weaver. "'I would take you myself, but I have promised to weave this cloth for the king.' "'That is a pity,' returned the young man politely, but in his heart he rejoiced, for he wished to be alone.' Leaving the house he entered a grove of trees which stood behind, and took the box from his pocket. He raised the lid, and out flew three little birds. "'Good master, what shall we do for thee?' asked they, and he answered, "'Bring me the finest horse that ever was seen, and the grandest dress, and glass shoes.' "'They are here, master,' said the birds, and so they were, and never had the young man seen anything so splendid.' Mounting the horse he rode into the ground where the horses were assembling for the great race, and took his place among them. Many good beasts were there which had won many races, but the horse of the Fisher's son left them all behind, and he was first at the winning post. The king's daughter waited for him in vain to claim his prize, for he went back to the wood, and got off his horse and put on his old clothes, and bade the box, placed some gold in his pockets. After that he went back to the weaver's house, and told him that the gold had been given him by the man who had won the race, and that the weaver might have it for his kindness to him. Now, as nobody had appeared to demand the hand of the princess, the king ordered another race to be run, and the Fisher's son rode into the field still more splendidly dressed than he was before, and easily distanced everybody else. But, again, he left the prize unclaimed. And so it happened on the third day, when it seemed as if all the people in the kingdom were gathered to see the race, for they were filled with curiosity to know who the winner could be. If he will not come of his own free will, he must be bought," said the king, and the messengers who had seen the face of the victor, were sent to seek him in every street of the town. This took many days, and when at last they found the young man in the weaver's cottage, he was so dirty and ugly, and had such a strange appearance, that they declared he could not be the winner they had been searching for, but a wicked robber who had murdered ever so many people, but had always managed to escape. Yes, it must be the robber. When the Fisher's son was led into his presence, build the gallows at once, and hang him in the sight of all my subjects, that they may behold him suffer the punishment of his crimes. So the gallows were built upon a high platform, and the Fisher's son mounted the steps up to it, and turned at the top to make the speech that was expected from every doomed man, innocent or guilt. As he spoke, he happened to raise his arm, and the king's daughter, who was there at her father's side, saw the name which she had written under it. With a shriek she sprang from her seat, and the eyes of the spectators would turn towards her. Stop! Stop! she cried, hardly knowing what she said. If that man is hanged, there is not a soul in the kingdom, but she'll die also. And running up to where the Fisher's son was standing, she took him by the hand, saying, Father, this is no robber or murderer. But the victor and the three races, and he lost the spells that were laid upon me. Then, without waiting for a reply, she conducted him into the palace, and he bathed in a marble bath, and all the dirt that the fairies had put upon him disappeared like magic. And when he had dressed himself in the fine garments the princess had sent him, he looked to match for any king's daughter in Errin. He went down into the great hall where she was waiting him, and they had much to tell each other, but little time to tell it in. For the king, her father, and the princes who were visiting him, and all the people of the kingdom, were still in their places expecting her return. How did you find me out? she whispered as they went down the passage. The birds in the box told me, answered he. But he could say no more, as they stepped out into the open space that was crowded with people. There the princes stopped. Oh, kings! said she, turning towards them. If one of you were killed to-day, the rest would fly. But this man put his trust in me, and had his head cut off three times. Because he has done this I will marry him rather than one of you, who have come hither to wed me. For many kings he has sought to free me from the spells, but none could do it save Ian, the fisher's son. End of The Enchanted Deer This recording is in the public domain. A Fish Story This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lucy Burgoyne The Lilac Fairy Book By Andrew Lane, Editor A Fish Story A Tale From Australia Chapter 17 Perhaps you think that fishes were always fishes, and never lived anywhere except in the water. But if you went to Australia and talked to the black people in the sandy desert in the centre of the country, you would learn something quite different. They would tell you that long, long ago, you would have met fishes on the land, wandering from place to place, and hunting all sorts of animals. And if you consider how fishes are made, you will understand how difficult this must have been and how clever they were to do it. Indeed, so clever were they that they might have been hunted. Still, a terrible thing had not happened. One day the whole fish tribe came back very tired from a hunting expedition and looked about for a nice, cool spot in which to pitch their camp. It was very hot and they thought that they could not find a more comfortable place than under the branches of a large tree which grew by the bank of a river. So they made their fire to cook some food, right on the edge of a steep bank, which had a deep pool of water lying beneath it at the bottom. While the food was cooking, they all stretched themselves lazily out under the tree and were just dropping off to sleep when a big black cloud which they had never noticed spread over the sun. And heavy drops of rain began to fall so that the fire was almost put out and that, you know, is a very serious thing in savage countries where they have no matches. For it is very hard to light it again. To make matters worse, an icy wind began to blow and the poor fishes were chilled right through their bodies. This will never do, said Thangai, the oldest of the fish tribe. Wish you'll die of cold unless we can light the fire again. Any baby sums rubbed two sticks together in the hope of kindling a flame. But though they rubbed till they were tired, not a spark could they produce. Let me try, cried Benunga, the bony fish, that he had no better luck and no more than cumbul, the brim, nor any of the rest. It is no use, exclaimed Thangai at last. The wood is too wet. We must just sit and wait till the sun comes out again and dries it. Then a very little fish indeed, not more than four inches long, and the youngest of the tribe, bowed himself before Thangai saying, Ask my father, Gudu, the cod, to light the fire. He is skilled in a magic more than most fishes. So Thangai asked him and Gudu stripped some pieces of bark off a tree and placed them on top of the small green ashes. Then he knelt by the side of the fire and blew at it for a long while, till slowly the feeble red glow became a little stronger and the edges of the bark showed signs of curling up. When the rest of the tribe saw this they pressed close, keeping their backs towards the piercing wind. But Gudu told them they must go to the other side as he wanted the wind to fan his fire. By and by the spark grew into a flame and a merry crackling was heard. More wood crowed Gudu and they all ran and gathered wood and heaped it on the flames which leaped and roared and sputtered. We shall soon be warm now, said the people, one to another. Truly Gudu is great and they crowded round again, closer and closer. Suddenly, with a shriek, a blast of wind swept down from the hills and blew the fire out towards them. They sprung back hurriedly, quite forgetting where they stood and all fell down the bank, each tumbling over the other till they rolled into the pool that lay below. Oh, how cold it was in that dark water on which the sun never shone. Then in an instant they felt warm again, for the fire, driven by the strong wind, had followed them right down to the bottom of the pool, where it burned as brightly as ever. And the fishes gathered round it as they had done on the top of the cliff and found the flames as hot as before. And that fire never went out like those upon land that kept burning forever. So now you know why, if you dive deep down below the cold surface at the water on a frosty day, you will find it comfortable and pleasant underneath. And be quite sorry that you cannot stay there. End of the Fish Story This recording is in the public domain, recording by Lucy Burgoyne, Queensland, Australia. Wonderful tune from the Lilac Fairy Book. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lucy Burgoyne, the Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lane, editor. Wonderful tune, a tale from Ireland. Chapter 18. Maurice Connor was the king, and that's no small word. Of all the pipers in Munster, he could play jig and reel without end. An Olystrom's march, and the eagle's whistle, and the hen's concert, and odd tunes of every sort and kind. But he knew one far more surprising than the rest, which had in it the power to set everything dead or alive dancing. In what way he learned it is beyond my knowledge, for he was mighty cautious about telling how he came by so wonderful a tune. At the very first note of that tune, the shoes begun shaking upon the feet of all how heard it. Old or young, it mattered not, just as if the shoes had the adieu. Then the feet began going, going, going from under them, and at last up and away with them, dancing like mad, whisking here, there, and everywhere. Like a straw in a storm, there was no halting while the music lasted. Not a fair, nor a wedding, nor a feast in the seven parishes round was counted worth the speaking of without blown Morris and his pipes. His mother, poor woman, used to lead him about from one place to another, just like a dog. Down through Ivarar, Morris Connor and his mother were taking their rounds. Beyond all other places Ivarar is the place for stormy coasts and steep mountains, as proper as spotted is, as any in Ireland, to get yourself ground or your neck broken on the land, should you prefer that. But, notwithstanding in Bell and Skelling Bay, there is a neat bit of ground, well fitted for diversion, and down from it, towards the water, is a clean, smooth piece of strand, the dead image of a calm summer sea on a moonlight night, with just the curl of the small waves upon it. Here it was Morris's music had brought from all parts of a great gathering of the young men and the young women. For twas, not every day, the strand of Trafasca was stirred up by the voice of the bagpipe. The dance began, and as pretty a dance it was, as ever was danced, brave music said everybody, and well done when Morris stopped. More power to your elbow, Morris, and a fair wind in the bellows, cried Patty Dorman, a humpback dancing master, who was there to keep order. Tisapiti, said he, if we'd let the piper run dry after such music, it would be a disgrace to Ivarar that didn't come on it since the week of the three Sundays. So well it became him, for he was always a decent man, says he. Did you drink piper? I will, sir, said Morris, answering the question on the safe side, for you never yet knew piper or skillmaster who refused his drink. What will you drink, Morris, says Patty. I'm no way as particular, says Morris. I drink anything, barring raw water, but if it's all the same to you, Mr. Dorman, maybe you wouldn't lend me the loan of a glass of whiskey. I've no glass, Morris, said Patty. I've only the bottle. Let that be no hindrance, answered Morris. My mouth just holds a glass to the drop. Often I've tried it, sure. So Patty Dorman trusted him with the bottle, more fill was he, and, to his cost, he found that though Morris's mouth might not hold more than the glass at one time, yet owing to the hole in his throat, it took many a filling. That was no bad whiskey, neither, says Morris, handing back the empty bottle. By the holy frost then, says Patty, tis the cold comfort there's in the bottle now, and tis your word we must take for the strength of the whiskey, for you've left us no sample to judge by, and to be sure Morris had not. Now I need not tell any gentleman or lady that if he or she was to drink an honest bottle of whiskey at one pool, it is not at all the same thing as drinking a bottle of water, and in the whole course of my life I never knew more than five men who could do so without being the worst. Of these Morris Connor was not one, though he had a stiff head, enough of his own. Don't think I blame him for it, but true is the word that says, when liquor's in the sense is out, and puff at a breath, out he blasted his wonderful tune. Twist really, then beyond all belief, or telling the dancing, Morris himself could not keep quiet, staggering now on one leg, now on the other, and rolling about like a ship in a cross sea, trying to humour the tune. There was his mother too, moving her old bones as life as the youngest girl of them all, but her dancing, no, nor the dancing of all the rest, is not worthy the speaking about to work that was going on down upon the strand. Every inch of it covered with all manner of fish jumping and plunging about to the music, and every moment more and more would tumble in and out of the water, charmed by the wonderful tune. Crabs of monstrous size spun round and round on one claw with the nimbleness of the dancing master, and twirled and tossed their other claws about like limbs that did not belong to them. It was a sight surprising to behold, but perhaps you may have heard a father Florence Connery as pleasant a man as one would wish to drink with over hot summer's day, and he had rhymed out all about the dancing fishes so neatly that it would be a thousand pitties not to give you his verses, so here they are in English. The big seals in motion like waves of the ocean or gouty food prancing came heading the gay fish, crabs, lobsters and crayfish determined on dancing. The sweet sounds they followed, the gasping cods followed, twist wonderful, really, and turbo and flounder, mid fish that were rounder just coped as gaily. John Dory's came tripping, dull hake by their skipping, to frisk it seemed given, bright macro went springing, like small rainbows winging, they flied up to heaven. The whiting and haddock left salt water paddock, distanced to be put in, were escaped with flat places, edged out some old places, but souls kept their footing. Sprats and herrings in powers of silvery showers all numbered outnumbered, and great links so lengthy was there in such plenty the shore was encumbered. The scallop and oyster, their two shells did roister, like castanets flitting, while limpets moved clearly and rocks were nearly, with laughter was flitting. Never was such a hella belue in this world, before or since, twice, as if heaven and earth were coming together, and all out of Murrah's Connors wonderful tune. In the height of all these doings, what should there be dancing among the outlandish set of fishes, but a beautiful young woman, as beautiful as the dawn of day. She had a cocked hat upon her head, from under it her long green hair, just the colour of the sea, fell down behind, without hindrance to her dancing. Her teeth were like rows of pearls, her lips, for all the world, looked like red coral, and she had a shining gown pale green, as the hollow of the wave, with little rows of purple and red seaweed settled upon it. For you'd never yet saw a lady, under the water, or over the water, who had not a good notion of dressing herself out. Up she danced at last to Murrah's, who was flinging his feet from under him as fast as hops, for nothing in this world could keep still, while that tune of his was going on, and says she to him, chanting it out with a voice as sweet as honey. I'm a lady of honour who live in the sea. Come down, Murrah's Connor, and be married to me. Silver plates and gold dishes you shall have, and she'll be the king of the fishes when you're married to me. Drink was strong in Murrah's head, and out he chanted in return for her great civility. It is not every lady, may be, that would be after making such an offer to a blind piper. Therefore, it was only right in him to give her as good as she gave herself, so says Murrah's. I'm obliged to you, madam, of a gold dish or plate. If a king and I had him, I could dine in great state. With your own father's daughter, I'd be sure to agree that to drink the salt water wouldn't do so with me. The lady looked at him quite amazed, and swinging her head from side to side, like a great scholar. Well, says she, Murrah's, if you're not a poet, where is poetry to be found? In this way they kept on at it, framing high compliments, one answering the other, and their feet going with the music as fast as their tongues. All the fish kept dancing too. Murrah's heard the clatter and was afraid to stop playing, lest it might be displeasing to the fish, and not knowing what so many of them may take it into their heads to do to him if they got vexed. Well, the lady with the green hair kept on coaxing Murrah's with soft speeches, till at last she over persuaded him to promise to marry her, and the king over the fishers, great and small. Murrah's was well fitted to be their king, if they wanted one that could make them dance, and he surely would drink, barring the salt water, with any fish of them all. When Murrah's mother saw him with an unnatural thing in the form of a green-haired lady, as his guide, and he and she dancing down together so lovingly to the water's edge, through the thick of the fishers, she called out after him to stop and come back. O then, says she, as if I was not widow enough before, there he is going away from me to be married to that scaly woman. And who knows but his grandmother I may be to a hake or a cod, Lord help and pity me, but is a mighty unnatural thing, and my beech is boiling and eating my own grandchild, I'll be, with a bit of salt butter, and I not knowing it. O Murrah's, Murrah's, if there's any love of your nature left in you, come back to your own old mother, who read you like a decent Christian, then the poor woman began to cry and sob, so finally that it would do anyone good to hear her. Murrah's was not long getting to the rim of the water, there he kept playing and dancing on as if nothing was the matter, and a great thundering wave coming in towards him, ready to swallow him up alive. But as he could not see it did not fear it, his mother it was who saw it plainly through the big tears that were rolling down her cheeks, and though she saw it and her heart was aching as much as ever mother's heart ached for a son, she kept dancing, dancing all the time for the bare life of her. Certain it was she could not help it, for Murrah's never stopped playing that wonderful tune of his, he only turned his ear to the sound of his mother's voice, fearing it might put him out in his steps, and all the answer he made back was, wished with you mother, sure I'm going to be king over the fishes down in the sea, and for a token of luck, and a sign that I'm alive and well, I'll send you in every twelve month on this day, a piece of burn wood to refresh her. Murrah's had not the power to say a word more, for the strange lady with the green hair, seeing the wave just upon them, covered him up with herself in a thing like a cloak, with a big hood to it, and the wave curling over twice as high as their heads, burst upon the strand, with a rush and a roar that might be heard as far as cake clear. That day, twelve month, the piece of burn wood came ashore in Trafrasca. It was a queer thing for Murrah's to think of sending all the way from the bottom of the sea, a gown or a pair of shoes would have been something like a present for his poor mother, but he had said it, and he kept his word. The bit of burn wood regularly came ashore on the appointed day for his good, and a better than a hundred years. The day is now forgotten, and maybe that is the reason why people say how Murrah's Connor has stopped sending the luck token to his mother. Poor woman, she did not live to get as much as one of them, for what through the loss of Murrah's and the fear of eating her own grandchildren, she died in three weeks after the dance. Some say it was the fatigue that killed her, but whichever it was, Mrs Connor was decently buried with her own people. Seafaring people have often heard, off the coast of Cary, on a still night, the sound of music coming up from the water, and some, who have had good ears, could plainly distinguish Murrah's Connor's voice, singing these words to his pipes. Beautiful shore with those spreading strand, though crystal water and diamond sand, never would I have parted from thee, but for the sake of my fair lady. End of the wonderful tune. This recording is in the public domain, recording by Lucy Burgoyne, Queensland, Australia. The Rich Brother and the Poor Brother. From the Lilac Fairy Book. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, Editor. The Rich Brother and the Poor Brother. From the Portuguese. Read by Missy. Guangzhou, China. There was once a rich old man who had two sons, and as his wife was dead the elder lived with him and helped him to look after his property. For a long time all went well. The young man got up very early in the morning and worked hard all day, and at the end of every week his father counted up the money they had made and rubbed his hands with delight as he saw how big the pile of gold in the strong iron chest was becoming. It will soon be full now, and I shall have to buy a larger one, he said to himself, and so busy was he with the thought of his money that he did not notice how bright his son's face had grown, nor how he sometimes started when he was spoken to, as if his mind was far away. One day, however, the old man went to the city on business, which he had not done for three years at least. It was market day, and he met with many people he knew, and it was getting quite late when he turned into the in-yard and bade an osler saddle his horse and bring it round directly. While he was waiting in the hall the landlady came up for a gossip, and after a few remarks about the weather and the vineyards she asked him how he liked his new daughter-in-law and whether he had been surprised at the marriage. The old man stared as he listened to her. Daughter-in-law? Marriage, said he. I don't know what you're talking about. I've got no daughter-in-law, and nobody has been married lately that I ever heard of. Now, this was exactly what the landlady, who was very curious, wanted to find out, but she put on a look of great alarm and exclaimed, Oh, dear! I hope I have not made mischief. I had no idea. Or, of course, I would not have spoken, but— and here she stopped and fumbled with her apron as if she was greatly embarrassed. As you have said so much you will have to say a little more, retorted the old man, a suspicion of what she meant darting across him, and the woman, nothing loath, answered as before. It was not all for buying or selling that your handsome son has been coming to town every week these many months past, and not by the shortest way, either. No, it was over the river, he wrote, and across the hill and past the cottage of Miguel the Vinekeeper, whose daughter, they say, is the prettiest girl in the whole countryside, though she is too white for my taste. And then the landlady paused again and glanced up at the farmer to see how he was taking it. She did not learn much. He was looking straight before him, his teeth set. But as she ceased to talk he said quietly, Go on. There is not much more to tell, replied the landlady, for she suddenly remembered that she must prepare supper for the hungry men who always stopped at the inn on market days before starting for home. But one fine morning they both went to the little church on top of the hill and were married. My cousin is servant to the priest, and she found out about it and told me. But good day to you, sir, here is your horse, and I must hurry off to the kitchen. It was lucky that the horse was sure-footed and knew the road, for his bridal hung loose on his neck, and his master took no heed of the way he was going. When the farmhouse was reached the man led the animal to the stable and then went to look for his son. I know everything. You have deceived me, get out of my sight at once. I have done with you, he stammered, choking with passion as he came up to the young man, cutting a stick in front of the door whistling gaily the while. But, Father, you are no son of mine. I have only one now. Be gone or it will be the worst for you. And as he spoke he lifted up his whip. The young man shrank back. He feared lusted Father should fall down in a fit. His face was so red and his eyes seemed bursting from his head. But it was no use staying. Perhaps next morning the old man might listen to reason, and in his heart the son felt that he would never take back his words. So he turned slowly away and walked heavily along a path which ended in a cave on the side of his hill, and there he sat through the night, thinking of what had happened. Yes, he had been wrong, there was no doubt of that, and he did not quite know how it had come about. He had meant to have told his father all about it, and he was sure, quite sure, that if once the old man had seen his wife, he would have forgiven her poverty on account of her great beauty and goodness. But he had put it off from day to day, always helping for a better opportunity. And now this was the end. If the son had no sleep that night no more had the father, and as soon as the son rose he sent a messenger into the great city with orders to bring back the younger brother. When he arrived the farmer did not waste words, but informed him that he was now his only heir and would inherit all his lands and money, and that he was to come and live at home and help manage the property. Though very pleased at the thought of becoming such a rich man, for the brothers had never cared much for each other, the younger would rather have stayed where he was, for he soon got tired of the country and longed for a town life. However, this he kept to himself and made the best of things, working hard like his brother before him. The years went on, but the crops were not so good as they had been, and the old man gave orders that some fine houses he was building in the city should be left unfinished, for it would take all the savings to complete them. As to the elder son, he would never even hear his name mentioned and died at last without ever seeing his face, leaving to the younger, as he had promised, all his land as well as his money. Meanwhile, the son whom he had disinherited had grown poorer and poorer. He and his wife were always looking out for something to do and never spent a penny that they could help, but luck was against them, and at the time of his father's death they had hardly bread to eat or clothes to cover them. If there had been only himself he would have managed to get on somehow, but he could not bear to watch his children becoming weaker day by day, and swallowing his pride, at length he crossed the mountains to his old home where his brother was living. It was the first time for long that the two men had come face to face, and they looked at each other in silence. Then tears rose in the eyes of the elder, but winking them hastily away he said, Brother, it is not needful that I should tell you how poor I am. You can see that for yourself. I have not come to beg for money, but only to ask if you will give me those unfinished houses of yours in the city, and I will make them water tight so that my wife and children can live in them, and that will save our rent, for as they are they profit you nothing. And the younger brother listened and pitied him, and gave him the houses that he asked for, and the elder went away happy. For some years things went on as they were, and then the rich brother began to feel lonely, and thought to himself that he was getting older and it was time for him to be married. The wife he chose was very wealthy, but she was also very greedy, and whoever much she had she always wanted more. She was besides one of those unfortunate people who invariably fancy that the possessions of other people must be better than their own. Many a time her poor husband regretted the day that he had first seen her, and often her meanness and shabby ways put him to shame, but he had not the courage to rule her, and she only got worse and worse. After she had been married a few months the bride wanted to go into the city and buy herself some new dresses. She had never been there before, and when she had finished her shopping she thought she would pay a visit to her unknown sister-in-law, and rest for a bit. The house she was seeking was in a broad street, and ought to have been very magnificent, but the carved stone portico enclosed a mean little door of rough wood, while a row of beautiful pillars led to nothing. The dwellings on each side were in the same unfinished condition, and water trickled down the walls. Most people would have considered it a wretched place, and turned their backs on it as soon as they could. But this lady saw that by spending some money the houses could be made as splendid as they were originally intended to be, and she instantly resolved to get them for herself. Full of this idea she walked up the marble staircase and entered the little room where her sister-in-law sat, making clothes for her children. The bride seemed full of interest in the houses and asked a great many questions about them, so that her new relations liked her much better than they expected, and hoped they might be good friends. However, as soon as she reached home she went straight to her husband and told him that he must get back those houses from his brother, as they would exactly suit her, and she could easily make them into a palace as fine as the king's. But her husband only told her that she might buy houses in some other part of the town, for she could not have those, as he had long since made a gift of them to his brother, who had lived there for many years past. At this answer the wife grew very angry. She began to cry and made such a noise that all the neighbors heard her and put their heads out of the windows to see what was the matter. It was absurd, she sobbed out, quite unjust. Indeed, if you come to think of it, the gift was worth nothing, as when her husband made it he was a bachelor, and since then he had been married and she had never given her consent to any such thing. And so she lamented all day and all night till the poor man was nearly worried to death. And at last he did what she wished, and summoned his brother in a court of law to give up the houses, which he said had only been lent to him. But when the evidence on both sides had been heard the judge decided in favor of the poor man, which made the rich lady more furious than ever, and she determined not to rest until she had gained the day. If one judge would not give her the houses, another should, and so time after time the case was tried over again, till at last it came before the highest judge of all in the city of Evora. Her husband was heartily tired and ashamed of the whole affair, but his weakness in not putting a stop to it in the beginning had got him into this difficulty, and now he was forced to go on. On the same day the two brothers set out on their journey to the city, the rich one on horseback with plenty of food in his knapsack, the poor one on foot with nothing but a piece of bread and four onions to eat on the way. The road was hilly and neither could go very fast, and when night fell they were both glad to see some lights in a window a little distance in front of them. The lights turned out to have been placed there by a farmer, who had planned to have a particularly good supper, as it was his wife's birthday, and bade the rich man enter and sit down while he himself took the horse to the stable. The poor man asked timidly if he might spend the night in a corner, adding that he had brought his own supper with him. Another time permission might have been refused him, for the farmer was no lover of humble folk. But now he gave the elder brother leave to come in, pointing out a wooden chair where he could sit. Supper was soon served, and very glad the younger brother was to eat it, for his long ride had made him very hungry. The farmer's wife, however, would touch nothing, and at last declared that the only supper she wanted was one of the onions the poor man was cooking at the fire. Of course he gave it to her, though he would gladly have eaten it himself, as three onions are not much at the end of a long day's walk. And soon after they all went to sleep, the poor man making himself as comfortable as he could in his corner. A few hours later the farmer was aroused by the cries and groans of his wife. Oh, I feel so ill. I'm sure I'm going to die, wept she. It was that onion. I know it was. I wish I had never eaten it. It must have been poisoned. If the man is poisoned, you he shall pay for it, said her husband, and seizing a thick stick he ran downstairs and began to beat the poor man, who had been found asleep and had nothing to defend himself with. Luckily the noise aroused the younger brother, who jumped up and snatched the stick from the farmer's hand, saying, We are both going to Evora to try a lawsuit. Come to, and accuse him there if he has attempted to rob you or murder you, but don't kill him now or you will get yourself into trouble. Well, perhaps you are right, answered the farmer, but the sooner that fellow has his desserts the better I shall be pleased. And without more words he went to the stable and brought out a horse for himself, and also the black Andalusian mare ridden by the rich man, while the poor brother, fearing more ill treatment, started at once unfoot. Now, all that night it had rained heavily and did not seem likely to stop, and in some places the road was so thick with mud that it was almost impossible to get across it. In one spot it was so very bad that a mule laden with baggage had got stuck in it, and tugged as he might his master was quite unable to pull him out. The milleteer in despair appealed to the two horsemen, who were carefully skirting the swamp at some distance off, but they paid no heed to his cries, and he began to talk cheerfully to his mule, hoping to keep of his spirit, declaring that if the poor beast would only have a little patience help was sure to come. And so it did. For very soon the poor brother reached the place, bespattered with mud from head to foot, but ready to do all he could to help with the mule and his master. First they set about finding some stout logs of wood to lay down on the marsh, so that they could reach the mule, for by this time his frantic struggles had broken his bridle and he was deeper in than ever. Stepping cautiously along the wood the poor man contrived to lay hold of the animal's tail, and with a desperate effort the mule managed to regain his footing on dry ground, but at the cost of leaving his tail in the poor man's hand. When he saw this the milleteer's anger knew forgetting that without the help given him he would have lost his mule altogether, he began to abuse the poor man, declaring that he had ruined his beast and the law would make him pay for it. Then jumping on the back of the mule, which was so glad to be out of the choking mud that he did not seem to mind the loss of his tail, the ungrateful wretch rode on, and that evening reached the inn at Evora, where the rich man and the farmer had already arrived for the night. Meanwhile the poor brother walked wearily along, wondering what other dreadful adventures were in store for him. I shall certainly be condemned for one or other of them, thought he sadly, and after all, if I have to die I would rather choose my own death than leave it to my enemies. And as soon as he entered Evora he looked about for a place suitable for carrying out the plan he had made. At length he found what he sought, but as it was too late and too dark for him to make sure of success he curled himself up under a doorway and slept till morning. Although it was winter the sun rose in a clear sky and its rays felt almost warm when the poor man got up and shook himself. He intended it to be the day of his death, but in spite of that, and of the fact that he was leaving his wife and children behind him, he felt almost cheerful. He had struggled so long and was so very, very tired. But he would not have minded that if he could have proved his innocence and lived over his enemies. However they had all been too clever for him and he had no strength to fight any more. So he mounted the stone steps that led to the battlements of the city and stopped for a moment to gaze about him. It happened that an old, sick man who lived nearby had begged to be carried out and to be laid at the foot of the wall so that the beams of the rising sun might fall upon him and he would be able to talk with his friends as they did their work. Little did he gasp that on top of the battlements, exactly over his head, stood a man who was taking his last look at the same sun, before going to his death that awaited him. But so it was, and as the steeple opposite was touched by the golden light the poor man shut his eyes and sprang forward. The wall was high and he flew rapidly through the air, but it was not the ground he touched, only the body of the sick man rolled over and died without a groan. As for the other he was quite unhurt and was slowly rising to his feet when his arms were suddenly seized and held. You have killed our father, do you see? Do you see? cried two young men, and you will come with us this instant before the judge and answer for it. Your father, but I don't know him. What do you mean? asked the poor man, who was quite bewildered with his sudden rush through the air and could not think why he should be accused of this fresh crime. But he got reply and was only hurried through the streets to the courthouse, where his brother, the militeer, and the farmer had just arrived, all as angry as ever, all talking at once, till the judge entered and ordered them to be silent. I will hear you one by one, he said, and motion the younger brother to begin. He did not take long to state his case. The unfinished houses were his, left him with the rest of the property by his father, and his brother refused to give them up. In answer the poor man told, in a few words, how he had begged the houses from his brother and produced the deed of gift which made him their owner. The judge listened quietly and asked a few questions, then he gave his verdict. The houses shall remain the property of the man to whom they were given and to whom they belong. And as you, he added, turning to the younger brother, brought this accusation knowing full well it was wicked and unjust, I order you, besides losing the houses, to pay a thousand pounds damages to your brother. The rich man heard the judge with rage in his heart, the poor man with surprise and gratitude. But he was not safe yet, for now it was the turn of the farmer. The judge could hardly conceal a smile at the story and inquired if the wife was dead before the farmer left the house, and received for answer that he was in such a hurry for justice to be done that he had not waited to see. Then the poor man told his tale and once more judgment was given in his favour, well, twelve hundred pounds was ordered to be paid him. As for the meal of tear, he was informed very plainly that he had proved himself mean and ungrateful for the help that had been given him, and as a punishment he must pay to the poor man a fine of fifty pounds and hand him over the meal till his tale had grown again. Lastly there came the two sons of the sick man. This is the wretch who killed our father, they said, and we demand that he should die also. How did you kill him? asked the judge, turning to the accused, and the poor man told how he had leaped from the wall, not knowing that anyone was beneath. Well, this is my judgment, replied the judge, when they had all spoken. Let the accused sit under the wall, and let the sons of the dead man jump from the top and fall on him and kill him, and if they will not do this, then they are condemned to pay eight hundred pounds for their false accusation. The young man looked at each other and slowly shook their head. We will pay the fine, said they, and the judge nodded. So the poor man rode the mule home and brought back to his family enough money to keep them in comfort to the end of their days. End of The Rich Brother and The Poor Brother. The Lilac Fairy Book by Andrew Lang, editor. The One-Handed Girl, a tale from Swahili. An old couple once lived in a hut under a grove of palm trees, and they had one son and one daughter. They were all very happy together for many years, and then the father became very ill and felt he was going to die. He called his children to the place where he lay on the floor, for no words in that country, and said to his son, I have no herds of cattle to leave you, only the few things there are in the house, for I am a poor man, as you know, but choose. Will you have my blessing on my property? Your property certainly answered the son, and his father nodded. And you asked the old man of the girl who stood by her brother. I will have blessing, she answered, and her father gave her much blessing. That night he died, and his wife and son and daughter mourned him for seven days, and gave him a burial according to the custom of his people. But hardly was the time of mourning over, then the mother was attacked by a disease which was common in that country. I am going away from you. She said to her children in a faint voice, but first my son, choose which you will have, blessing or property. Property certainly answered the son, and you, my daughter. I will have blessing, said the girl, and the mother gave her much blessing, and that night she died. When the days of mourning were ended, the brother, Batey's sister put outside the hut all that belonged to his father and his mother. So the girl put them out, and he took them away, save only a small pot and a vessel in which she could clean her corn. She sat at home, sad and hungry, when a neighbour knocked at the door. My pot is cracked in the fire, lend me yours to cook my supper in, and I will give you a handful of corn in return. And the girl was glad, and that night she was able to have supper herself. And the next day another woman borrowed her pot, and then another, and another, for never were known so many accidents as befell the village pots at that time. She soon grew quite fat with all the corn she earned with the help of her pot. And then, one evening, she picked up a pumpkin seed in a corner, and planted it near her well, and it sprang up and gave her many pumpkins. At last it happened that a youth from her village passed through the place where the girl's brother was, and the two met and talked. What news is there of my sister? Asked the young man, with whom things had gone badly, for he was idle. She is fat and well-liking, replied the youth, for the woman borrowed her water to clean their corn, and borrowed her pot to cook it in, and for all this they give her more food than she can eat. And he went his way. Now the brother was filled with envy at the words of the man, and he set out at once, and before dawn he had reached the hut and saw the pot and the mortar were standing outside. He slung them over his shoulders but when his sister awoke and sought for the pot to cook her corn for breakfast, she could find it nowhere. At length she said to herself, Well, some thief must have stolen them while I slept. I will go and see if any of my pumpkins are ripe. And indeed they were, and so many that the tree was almost broken by the weight of them. So she ate what she wanted and took the others to the village, and gave them in exchange for corn, and said that no pumpkins were as sweet as these, and that she was to bring every day all that she had. In this way she earned more than she needed for herself, and soon she was able to get another mortar and cooking pot in exchange for her corn. Then she thought she was quite rich. Unluckily someone else thought so too, and this was her brother's wife, who had heard all about the pumpkin tree, and sent a slave with a handful of grain to buy her a pumpkin. At first the girl told him that so few were left that she could not spare any. But when she found that he belonged to her brother she changed her mind, and went out to the tree, and gathered the largest and the ripest that was there. Take this one, she said to the slave, and carry it back to your mistress, but tell her to keep the corn, as the pumpkin is a gift. The brother's wife was overjoyed at the sight of the fruit, and when she tasted it she said she had ever eaten. Indeed, all night she thought of nothing else, and early in the morning she called another slave, for she was a rich woman, and baited him go and asked for another pumpkin, but the girl, who had just been out to look at her tree, told him that they were all eaten, so he went back empty handed to his mistress. In the evening her husband returned from hunting a long way off, and found his wife in tears. What is the matter? asked he. I sent a slave with some grain to your sister to buy some pumpkins, but she would not sell me any, and told me there were none, though we know she lets other people buy them. Well, never mind now, go to sleep, said he, and tomorrow I will go and pull up the pumpkin tree, and that will punish her for treating you so badly. So, before sunrise he got up, and set out for his sister's house, and found her cleaning some corn. Why did you refuse to sell my wife a pumpkin yesterday, when she wanted one? He asked. The old ones are finished, and the new ones are not yet come, answered the girl. When her slave arrived two days ago, there were only four left, but I gave him one, and would take no corn for it. I do not believe you. You have sold them all to other people. I shall go and cut down the pumpkin. cried her brother in a rage. If you cut down the pumpkin, you shall cut off my hand with it. She then exclaimed the girl, running up to a tree and catching hold of it. But her brother followed, and with one blow cut off the pumpkin and a hand too. Then he went into the house, and took away everything he could find, and sold the house to a friend of his who had long wished to have it, and his sister had no home to go to. Meanwhile, she had bathed her arm carefully, and bound on it some healing leaves that grew nearby, and wrapped a cloth round the leaves, in the forest, that her brother might not find her again. For seven days she wandered about, eating only the fruit that hung from the trees above her. And every night she climbed up and tucked herself safely among the creepers, which bound together the big branches, so that neither lions, nor tigers, nor panthers might get her. When she woke up on the seventh morning, she saw from her perch a smoke coming from a little town on the edge of the forest. The sight of the huts made her feel more lonely and helpless than before. She longed desperately for a draught of milk from a gourd, for there were no streams in that part, and she was very thirsty. But how was she to earn anything with only one hand? And at this thought her courage failed, and she began to cry bitterly. It happened that the king's son had come out from the town very early to shoot birds, and when the sun grew hot he left, tired. I will lie here and rest under this tree," he said to his attendants. You can go and shoot instead, and I will just have this slave to stay with me. Away they went, and the young man fell asleep and slept long. Suddenly he was awakened by something wet and salt falling on his face. What is that? Is it raining?" he said to his slave. Go and look. No, master, it is not raining, answered the slave. Then climb up the tree and see what it is. And the slave climbed up and came back and told his master that a beautiful girl was sitting up there and that it must have been her tears which had fallen on the face of the king's son. Why was she crying? inquired the prince. I cannot tell. I did not dare to ask her, but perhaps she would tell you. And the master, greatly wondering, climbed up the tree. What is the matter with you? said he gently. And as she only sobbed louder, he continued, Are you a woman or a spirit of the woods? I am a woman. She answered slowly, wiping her eyes with the leaf of the creeper that hung about her. Then why do you cry? he persisted. I have many things to cry for, she replied. More than you could ever guess. Come home with me, said the prince. It is not very far. Mother, I am a king's son. Then why are you here? she said, opening her eyes and staring at him. Once every month I am my friend shoot birds in the forest. he answered. But I was tired and bade them leave me to rest. And you, what are you doing up in this tree? At that she began to cry again and told the king's son all that had befallen her since the death of her mother. I cannot come down with you for I do not like anyone to see me. She ended with a sob. Oh, I will manage all that! said the king's son. And swinging himself to a lower branch he bade his slave go quickly into town and bring back with him four strong men and a curtained litter. When the man was gone the girl climbed down and hid herself on the ground in some bushes. Very soon the slave returned with a litter which was placed on the ground close to the bushes where the girl lay. Now go, all of you and call my attendance. For I do not wish to stay here any longer he said to the men. And as soon as they were out of sight he bade the girl get into the litter and fasten the curtains tightly. Then he got in on the other side and waited till his attendance came up. What is the matter, oh son of a king? asked they. Breathless with running. I think I am ill. I am cold, he said. And signing to the bearers he drew the curtains and was carried through the forest right inside his own house. Tell my father and mother that I have a fever and want some gruel said he, and bid them send it quickly. So the slave hastened to the king's palace and gave his message which troubled both the king and the queen greatly. A pot of hot gruel was instantly prepared and carried over to the sick man and as soon as the council which was sitting was over the king and his ministers went to pay him a visit bearing a message from the queen that she would follow a little later. Now the prince had pretended to be ill in order to soften his parents' hearts and the next day he declared he felt better. And getting into his litter was carried to the palace and state drums been beating all along the road. He dismounted at the front of the steps and walked up a great parasol being held over his head by a slave. Then he entered the cool dark room where his father and mother were sitting and said to them, I saw a girl yesterday in the forest whom I wished to marry and, unknown to my attendance I brought her back to my house in a litter. Give me your consent, I beg for no other woman pleases me as well even though she has but one hand. Of course the king and queen would have preferred a daughter-in-law with two hands and one who could have brought riches with her but they could not bear to say no to their son. So they told him it should be as he choose and that the wedding feast should be prepared immediately. The girl could scarcely believe her good fortune and, in gratitude for all the kindness shown her, was so useful and pleasant to a husband's parents that they soon loved her. By and by a baby was born to her and soon after that the prince was sent on a journey by his father to visit some of the distant towns of the kingdom and to set to write things that had gone wrong. No sooner had he started than the girl's brother who'd wasted all the riches his wife had brought him in recklessness and folly and was now very poor a chance to come into the town and as he passed he heard a man say do you know that the king's son has married a woman who has lost one of her hands? On hearing these words the brother stopped and asked where did he find such a woman? In the forest answered the man and the cruel brother guessed at once it must be his sister. A great rage took possession of his soul as he thought of the girl whom he had tried to ruin being after all so much better off than himself and he vowed that he would work her ill. Therefore, that very afternoon he made his way to the palace and asked to see the king. When he was admitted to his presence he knelt down and touched the ground with his forehead and the king bade him stand up and tell wherefore he had come. By the kindness of your heart have you been deceived, O king, said he. Your son has married a girl who has lost a hand. Do you know why she had lost it? She was a witch and has wedded three husbands and each husband she has put to death with her arts. Then the people of the town cut off her hand and turned her into the forest and what I say is true for her town is my town also. The king listened and his face grew dark and luckily he had a hasty temper and did not stop to reason and instead of sending to the town and discovering people who knew his daughter-in-law and could have told him how hard she had worked and how poor she had been he believed all the brothers' lying words and made the queen believe them too. Together they took counsel what they should do and in the end they decided that they also would put her out of town. But this did not content the brother. Kill her, he said. It is no more than she deserves for daring to marry the king's son. Then she could do no more hurt to anyone. We cannot kill her, answered they. If we did, our son would assuredly kill us. Let us do as the others did and put her out of the town and with this the envious brother was forced to be content. The poor girl loved her husband very much but just then the baby was more to her than all else in the world and as long as she had him with her she did not very much mind anything. So taking her son on her arm and hanging a little earthen pot for cooking round her neck she left her house with its great peacock fans and slaves and seats of ivory and plunged into the forest. For a while she walked not knowing whither she went. Then by and by she grew tired and sat under a tree to rest and to hush her baby to sleep. Suddenly she raised her eyes and saw a snake wriggling from under the bushes towards her. I am a dead woman, she said to herself and stayed quite still for indeed she was too frightened to move. In another minute the snake had reached her side and to her surprise he spoke open your earthen pot and let me go in. Save me from sun and I will save you from rain. And she opened the pot and when the snake had slipped in she put on the cover. Soon she beheld another snake coming after the other one and when it had reached her it soft and said did you see a small grey snake pass this way just now? Yes, she answered. It was going very quickly. Ah! I must hurry and catch it up! replied the second snake and it hastened on. When it was out of sight a voice from the pot said uncover me and she lifted the lid and the little grey snake slid rapidly to the ground. I am safe now, he said but tell me where are you going? I cannot tell you for I do not know she answered I am just wandering in the wood. Follow me let us go home together said the snake and the girl followed him through the forest and along the green paths till they came to a great lake where they stopped to rest. The sun is hot said the snake and you have walked far take your baby and bathe in that cool place where the bowels of the tree stretch far over the water. Yes, I will answered she and they went in. The baby splashed and crowed with delight and then he gave a spring and fell right in down, down, down and his mother could not find him though she searched all among the reeds. Full of terror she made her way back to the bank and called to the snake. My baby is gone, he is drowned and never shall I see him again. Go in once more to the snake and feel everywhere even among the trees that have their roots in the water least perhaps he may be held fast there. Swiftly she went back and felt everywhere with the whole hand even putting her fingers into the tiniest crannies where a crab could hardly take in shelter. No, he is not there she cried how am I to live without him. But the snake took no notice and only answered put in your other arm too. What is the use of that? she asked when it has no hand to feel with but all the same she did as she was bid and in an instant the wounded arm touched something round and soft lying between two stones in a comp of reeds. My baby, my baby! she shouted and lifted him up merry and laughing and not a bit hurt or frightened have you found him this time? asked the snake Yes, oh yes she answered and why? why I have got my hand back again and from sheer joy she burst into tears the snake let her weep for a little while and then he said now we will journey on to my family and we will all repay you for the kindness you showed me you have done more than enough in giving me back my hand replied the girl but the snake only smiled be quick lest the sun should set he answered and began to wriggle along so fast that the girl could hardly follow him by and by they arrived at the house in a tree where the snake lived when he was not travelling with his father and mother and he told them all his adventures and how he'd escaped from his enemy the father and mother snake could not do enough to show their gratitude they made their guests lie down on a hammock woven of strong creepers which hung from bow to bow till she was quite rested after her wanderings while they watched the baby and gave him milk to drink from the cocoa nuts which they persuaded their friends the monkeys to crack for them they even managed to carry small fruit tied up in their tails for the baby's mother who felt at last that she was safe and at peace not that she forgot her husband for she often thought of him and longed to show him her son and in the night she would sometimes lie awake and wonder where he was in this manner many weeks passed by and what was the prince doing? well, he had fallen very ill when he was on the furthest board of the kingdom and he was nursed by some kind people who did not know who he was so that the king and queen had nothing about him when he was much better he made his way home again and into his father's palace where he found a strange man standing behind the throne with the peacock's feathers this was the wife's brother who had taken into high favour though of course the prince was quite ignorant of what had happened for a moment the king and queen stared at their son as if he had been unknown to them he had grown so thin and weak during his illness that his shoulders were bowed like those of an old man have you forgotten me so soon? he asked at the sound of his voice they gave a cry and ran towards him and pulled out questions as to what had happened and why he looked like that but the prince did not answer any of them how is my wife? he said there was a pause then the queen replied she is dead dead? he repeated stepping a little backwards am I child? he is dead too the young man stood silent then he said show me their graves at these words the king who had been feeling rather uncomfortable took heart again for had he not prepared two beautiful tombs for his son to see so that he might never, never guess what had been done to his wife all these months the king and queen had been telling each other how good and merciful they had been not to take a brother's advice and to put her to death but now this somehow did not seem so certain then the king led the way to the courtyard just behind the palace and through the gate into a beautiful garden there were two splendid tombs in a green space under the trees the prince advanced alone and resting his hand against the stone he burst into tears his father and mother stood silently behind with a curious pang in their souls which they did not quite understand could it be that they were ashamed of themselves? but after a while the prince turned round and walking past them into the palace he bade the slaves bring him mourning for seven days no one saw him but at the end of them he went out hunting and helped his father rule his people only no one dared to speak to him of his wife and son at last one morning after the girl had been lying awake all night thinking of her husband she said to her friend the snake you have shown me much kindness but now I am well again and want to go home and hear some news of my husband and if he still mourns for me now the heart of the snake was sad at her words but he only said yes thus it must be go and bid farewell to my father and mother but if they offer you a present see that you take nothing but my father's ring and my mother's casket so she went to the parent snakes who wept bitterly at the thought of losing her and offered her golden jewels as much as she could carry in remembrance of them but the girl shook her head and pushed the shining heap away from her I shall never forget you never she said in a broken voice but the only tokens I will accept from you are that little ring and this old casket the two snakes looked at each other in dismay the ring and the casket were the only things they did not want her to have then after a short pause they spoke why do you want the ring and casket so much who has told you of them oh nobody it is just my fancy answered she but the old snake shook their heads and replied not so it is our son who has told you and as he said so it must be if you need food or clothes or a house tell the ring and it will find them for you and if you are unhappy or in danger tell the casket and it will set things right then they both gave her their blessing and she picked up her baby and went away she walked for a long time till at length she came near the town where her husband and his father dwelt here she stopped under a grove of palm trees and told the ring that she wanted a house it is ready mistress whispered a queer little voice which made her jump and looking behind her she saw a lovely palace made of the finest woods and a row of slaves with tall fans bowing before the door glad indeed was she to enter for she was very tired and after eating a good supper of fruit and milk which she found in one of the rooms she flung herself down on a pile of cushions and went to sleep with her baby beside her here she stayed quietly and every day the baby grew taller and stronger and very soon he could run about and even talk of course the neighbours had a great deal to say about the house which had been built so quickly so very quickly on the outskirts of the town and invented all kinds of stories about the rich lady who lived in it and by and by when the king returned with his son from the wars some of these tales reached his ears it is really very odd about that house under the palms he said to the queen I must find out something of the lady whom no one ever sees I dare say it is not a lady at all but a gang of conspirators who want to get possession of my throne tomorrow I shall take my son and my chief ministers and insist on getting inside soon after sunrise next day the prince's wife was standing a little hill behind the house when she saw a cloud of dust coming through the town a moment afterwards she heard faintly the roar of the drums that announced the king's presence and saw a crowd of people approaching the grove of palms her heart beat fast could her husband be among them in any case they must not discover her there so just bidding the ring prepare some food for them she ran inside and bound a veil of golden gores round her head and face then taking the child's hand she went to the door and waited in a few minutes the whole procession came up and she stepped forward and begged them to come in and rest willingly answered the king go first and we will follow you they followed her into a long dark room in which was a table covered with golden cups and baskets filled with dates and coconuts and all kinds of ripe yellow fruits and the king and the prince sat upon cushions and were served by slaves while the ministers among whom she recognized her own brother stood behind ah I owe all my misery to him she said to herself from the first he has hated me but outwardly she showed nothing and when the king asked her what news there was in the town she only answered you have ridden far eat first and drink for you must be hungry and thirsty and then I will tell you my news you speak sense answered the king and silence prevailed for some time longer then he said now lady I am finished and am refreshed therefore tell me I pray you who are you and whence you come but first be seated she bowed ahead and sat down a big scarlet cushion drawing her little boy who was asleep in a corner onto her knee and began to tell the story of her life as her brother listened he would have then left the house and hidden himself in the forest but it was his duty to wave the fan of peacocks feathers over the king's head to keep off the flies and he knew he would be seized by the royal guards if he tried to desert his post he must stay where he was and there was no help for it and luckily for him the king was too much interested in the tale to notice that the fan had ceased moving and that flies were dancing right on the top of his thick, curly hair the story went on but the story teller never once looked at the prince even through her veil though he on his side never moved his eyes from her when she reached the part where she sat weeping in the tree the king's son could restrain himself no longer it is my wife he cried spring into her she sat with the sleeping child in her lap they have lied to me and you are not dead after all nor the boy either but what has happened why did they lie to me and why did you leave my house where you were safe and he turned and looked fiercely at his father let me finish my tale first and then you'll know answered she throwing back her veil and she told how her brother had come to the palace and accused her of being a witch and had tried to persuade the king to slay her but he would not do that she continued softly and after all if I had stayed on in your house I should never have met the snake nor have got my hand back again so let us forget all about it and be happy once more for see our son is growing quite a big boy and what shall be done to your brother asked the king who was glad to think that someone had acted in this matter worse than himself put him out of the town answered she end of the one-handed girl lie 2007 the youngest girl ruled over the rest and they all did as she bade them one sister had to clean the house a second carried water from the spring in the forest a third cooked their food while to the youngest fell the hardest task of all for she had to cut and bring home the wood which was to keep the fire continually burning this was very hot and tiring work and when she had fed the fire and heaped up in a corner the sticks that were to supply it till the next day she often threw herself down under a tree and went sound asleep one morning however as she was staggering along with her bundle on her back she thought that the river which flowed past their hut looked so cool and inviting that she determined to bathe in it instead of taking her usual nap hastily piling up her load by the fire and thrusting some sticks into the flame she ran down to the river and jumped in how delicious it was diving and swimming and floating in the dark forest where the trees were so thick that you could hardly see the sun but after a while she began to look about her and her eyes fell on a little fish that seemed made out of a rainbow so brilliant were the colors he flashed out I should like him for a pet thought the girl and the next time the fish swam by she put out her hand and caught him then she ran along the grassy path till she came to a cave in front of which a stream fell over some rocks into a basin here she put her little fish whose name was Jlong Jlong and promising to return soon and bring him some dinner she went away by the time she got home this for their dinner was ready cooked and the eldest sister gave the other six their portions in wooden bowls but the youngest did not finish hers and when no one was looking stole off to the fountain in the forest where the little fish was swimming about see I have not forgotten you she cried and one by one she let the grains of rice fall into the water where the fish gobbled them up greedily he had never tasted anything so nice that is all for today she said at last but I will come again tomorrow and abiding him goodbye she went down the path now the girl did not tell her sisters about the fish but every day she saved half of her rice to give him and called him softly in a song she had made for herself if she sometimes felt hungry no one knew of it and indeed she did not mind that much when she saw how the fish enjoyed it and the fish grew fat and big but the girl grew thin and weak and the loads of wood felt heavier every day and at last her sisters noticed then they took counsel together and watched her to see what she did and one of them followed her to the fountain where Geelong lived and saw her give him all the rice she had saved from her breakfast hastening home the sister told the others what she had witnessed and that a lovely fat fish might be had for the catching so the eldest sister went and caught him and he was boiled for dinner but the youngest sister was away in the woods and did not know anything about it next morning she went as usual to the cave and sang her little song but no Geelong came to answer it twice and thrice she sang then threw herself on her knees by the edge and peered into the deep water but the trees cast such a deep shadow that her eyes could not pierce it Geelong could not be dead or his body would be floating on the surface she said to herself and rising to her feet she set out homewards feeling all of a sudden strangely tired what is the matter with me? she thought but somehow or other she managed to reach the hut and threw herself down in a corner where she slept so soundly that for days no one was able to wake her at length one morning early a cock began to crow so loud that she could sleep no longer and as he continued to crow she seemed to understand what he was saying and that he was telling her that Geelong was dead killed and eaten by her sisters and that his bones lay buried under the kitchen fire very softly she got up and took up the large stone under the fire and creeping out carried the bones to the cave by the fountain where she dug a hole and buried them anew and as she scooped out the hole with a stick she sang a song bidding the bones grow till they became a tree a tree that reached up so high into the heavens that its leaves would fall across the sea into another island whose king would pick them up as there was no Geelong to give her rice to the girl soon became fat again and as she was able to do her work as of old her sisters did not trouble about her they never guessed that when she went into the forest to gather her sticks she never failed to pay a visit to the tree which grew taller and more wonderful day by day never was such a tree seen before its trunk was of iron its leaves were of silk its flowers of gold and its fruit of diamonds and one evening though the girl did not know it a soft breeze took one of the leaves and blew it across the sea to the feet of one of the king's attendants what a curious leaf I have never beheld one like it before I must show it to the king he said and when the king saw it he declared he would never rest until he had found the tree which bore it even if he had to spend the rest of his life in visiting the islands that lay all round happily for him he began with the island that was nearest and here in the forest he suddenly saw standing before him the iron tree its boughs covered with shining leaves like the one he carried about him but what sort of a tree is it and how did it get here he asked of the attendants he had with him no one could answer him but as they were about to pass out of the forest a little boy went by and the king stopped and inquired if there was anyone living in the neighborhood whom he might question seven sisters living a hut down there replied the boy with his finger to where the sun was setting then go and bring them here and I will wait said the king and the boy ran off and told the sisters that a great chief with strings of jewels round his neck had sent for them pleased and excited the six elder sisters at once followed the boy but the youngest who was busy and who did not care about strangers stayed behind to finish the work she was doing the king welcomed the girls eagerly and asked them all manner of questions about the tree but as they had never even heard of its existence they could tell him nothing and if we who live close by the forest do not know you may be sure no one does added the eldest who was rather cross at finding this was all that the king wanted of them but the boy told me there were seven of you and there are only six here said the king so the youngest is at home but she is always half asleep and is of no use except to cut wood for the fire replied they in a breath that may be but perhaps she dreams answered the king anyway I will speak to her also then he signed to one of his attendants who followed the path that the boy had taken to the hut soon the man returned with the girl walking behind him and as soon as she reached the tree it bowed itself to the earth before her and she stretched out her hand and picked some of its leaves and flowers and gave them to the king the maiden who can work such wonders is fitted to be the wife of the greatest chief he said and so he married her and took her with him across the sea to his own home where they lived happily forever after from folklore by A. F. McKenzie and of The Bones of Julung