2022-12-29

Episode 7: How the Junkman Travelled to Find Treasure in His Own Yard

Welcome to Episode 7 of Public Domain Radio: Mythology and Folklore. Today I am featuring a story from the LibriVox audiobook of Told in the Coffee House: Turkish Tales by Cyrus Adler and Allan Ramsay. 


This book was published in 1898 which puts it in the public domain in the United States. You can find the LibriVox audiobook online at LibriVox and at the Internet Archive, and you can find the text version of the book at the Internet Archive.

The story is "How the Junkman Travelled to Find Treasure in His Own Yard," and the LibriVox reader is Caroline. You can listen to the embedded audio file below, or with this audio link.



HOW THE JUNKMAN TRAVELLED
TO FIND TREASURE IN HIS OWN YARD

In one of the towers overlooking the Sea of Marmora and skirting the ancient city of Stamboul, there lived an old junkman, who earned a precarious livelihood in gathering cinders and useless pieces of iron, and selling them to smiths.

Often did he moralize on the sad Kismet that had reduced him to the task of daily laboring for his bread to make a shoe, perhaps for an ass. Surely he, a true Mussulman, might at least be permitted to ride the ass. His eternal longing often found satisfaction in passing his hours of sleep in dreams of wealth and luxury. But with the dawning of the day came reality and increased longing.

Often did he call on the spirit of sleep to reverse matters, but in vain; with the rising of the sun began the gathering of the cinders and iron.

One night he dreamt that he begged this nocturnal visitor to change his night to day, and the spirit said to him: "Go to Egypt, and it shall be so."

This encouraging phrase haunted him by day and inspired him by night. So persecuted was he with the thought that when his wife said to him, from the door, "Have you brought home any bread?" he would reply, "No, I have not gone; I will go to-morrow;" thinking she had asked him, "Have you gone to Egypt?"

At last, when friends and neighbors began to pity poor Ahmet, for that was his name, as a man on whom the hand of Allah was heavily laid, removing his intelligence, he one morning left his house, saying: "I go! I go! to the land of wealth!" And he left his wife wringing her hands in despair, while the neighbors tried to comfort her. Poor Ahmet went straight on board a boat which he had been told was bound for Iskender (Alexandria), and assured the captain that he was summoned thither, and that he was bound to take him. Half-witted and mad persons being more holy than others, Ahmet was conveyed to Iskender.

Arriving in Iskender, Hadji Ahmet roamed far and wide, proceeding as far as Cairo, in search of the luxuries he had enjoyed at Constantinople when in the land of Morpheus, which he had been promised to enjoy in the sunshine, if he came to Egypt. Alas! for Hadji Ahmet; the only bread he had to eat was that which was given him by sympathizing humanity. Time sped on, sympathy was growing tired of expending itself on Hadji Ahmet, and his crusts of bread were few and far between.

Wearied of life and suffering, he decided to ask Allah to let him die, and wandering out to the Pyramids he solicited the stones to have pity and fall on him. It happened that a Turk heard this prayer, and said to him:

"Why so miserable, father? Has your soul been so strangled that you prefer its being dashed out of your body, to its remaining the prescribed time in bondage?"

"Yes, my son," said Hadji Ahmet. "Far away in Stamboul, with the help of God, I managed as a junkman to feed my wife and myself; but here am I, in Egypt, a stranger, alone and starving, with possibly my wife already dead of starvation, and all this through a dream."

"Alas! Alas! my father! that you at your age should be tempted to wander so far from home and friends, because of a dream. Why, were I to obey my dreams, I would at this present moment be in Stamboul, digging for a treasure that lies buried under a tree. I can even now, although I have never been there, describe where it is. In my mind's eye I see a wall, a great wall, that must have been built many years ago, and supporting or seeming to support this wall are towers with many corners, towers that are round, towers that are square, and others that have smaller towers within them. In one of these towers, a square one, there live an old man and woman, and close by the tower is a large tree, and every night when I dream of the place, the old man tells me to dig and disclose the treasure. But, father, I am not such a fool as to go to Stamboul and seek to verify this. It is an oft-repeated dream and nothing more. See what you have been reduced to by coming so far."

"Yes," said Hadji Ahmet, "it is a dream and nothing more, but you have interpreted it. Allah be praised, you have encouraged me; I will return to my home."

And Hadji Ahmet and the young stranger parted, the one grateful that it had pleased Allah to give him the power to revive and encourage a drooping spirit, and the other grateful to Allah that when he had despaired of life a stranger should come and give him the interpretation of his dream. He certainly had wandered far and long to learn that the treasure was in his own garden.

Hadji Ahmet in due course, much to the astonishment of both wife and neighbors, again appeared upon the scene not a much changed man. In fact, he was the cinder and iron gatherer of old.

To all questions as to where he was and what he had been doing, he would answer: "A dream sent me away, and a dream brought me back."

And the neighbors would say: "Truly he must be blessed."

One night Hadji Ahmet went to the tree, provided with spade and pick, that he had secured from an obliging neighbor. After digging a short time a heavy case was brought to view, in which he found gold, silver, and precious jewels of great value. Hadji Ahmet replaced the case and earth and returned to bed, much lamenting that it had pleased God to furnish women, more especially his wife, with a long tongue, long hair, and very short wits. Alas! he thought, if I tell my wife, I may be hung as a robber, for it is against the laws of nature for a woman to keep a secret. Yet, becoming more generous when thinking of the years of toil and hardship she had shared with him, he decided to try and see if, by chance, his wife was not an exception to other women. Who knows, she might keep the secret. To test her, at no risk to himself and the treasure, he conceived a plan.

Crawling from his bed, he sallied forth and bought, found, or stole an egg. This egg on the following morning he showed to his wife, and said to her:

"Alas! I fear I am not as other men, for evidently in the night I laid this egg; and, wife mine, if the neighbors hear of this, your husband, the long-suffering Hadji Ahmet, will be bastinadoed, bowstrung, and burned to death. Ah, truly, my soul is strangled."

And without another word Hadji Ahmet, with a sack on his shoulder, went forth to gather the cast-off shoes of horse, ox, or ass, wondering if his wife would prove an exception in this, as she had in many other ways, to other women.

In the evening he returned, heavily laden with his finds, and as he neared home he heard rumors, ominous rumors, that a certain Hadji Ahmet, who had been considered a holy man, had done something that was unknown in the history of man, even in the history of hens—that he had laid a dozen eggs.

Needless to add that Hadji Ahmet did not tell his wife of the treasure, but daily went forth with his sack to gather iron and cinders, and invariably found, when separating his finds of the day, in company with his wife, at first one, and then more gold and silver pieces, and now and then a precious stone.


THE END


Episode 6: The Charmed Ring

Welcome to Episode 6 of Public Domain Radio: Mythology and Folklore. You can see the transcript and find out more at PublicDomain.LauraGibbs.net.

Today I am featuring a story from the LibriVox audiobook of Indian Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs with illustrations by John Batten. This book was published in 1892 which puts it in the public domain in the United States. You can find the LibriVox audiobook online at LibriVox and at the Internet Archive, and you can find the text version of the book at the Internet Archive.

The story is The Charmed Ring, and the reader is Gabriela Cowan. You can listen to the embedded audio file below, or with this audio link.



THE CHARMED RING

A merchant started his son in life with three hundred rupees and bade him go to another country and try his luck in trade. The son took the money and departed.

He had not gone far before he came across some herdsmen quarrelling over a dog that some of them wished to kill. "Please do not kill the dog," pleaded the young and tender-hearted fellow; "I will give you one hundred rupees for it." Then and there, of course, the bargain was concluded, and the foolish fellow took the dog and continued his journey.

He next met with some people fighting about a cat. Some of them wanted to kill it, but others not. "Oh! please do not kill it," said he; "I will give you one hundred rupees for it." Of course they at once gave him the cat and took the money.

He went on till he reached a village, where some folk were quarrelling over a snake that had just been caught. Some of them wished to kill it, but others did not. "Please do not kill the snake," said he; "I will give you one hundred rupees." Of course the people agreed, and were highly delighted.

What a fool the fellow was! What would he do now that all his money was gone? What could he do except return to his father? Accordingly he went home.

"You fool! You scamp!" exclaimed his father when he had heard how his son had wasted all the money that had been given to him. "Go and live in the stables and repent of your folly. You shall never again enter my house."

So the young man went and lived in the stables. His bed was the grass spread for the cattle, and his companions were the dog, the cat, and the snake, which he had purchased so dearly.

These creatures got very fond of him, and would follow him about during the day, and sleep by him at night; the cat used to sleep at his feet, the dog at his head, and the snake over his body, with its head hanging on one side and its tail on the other.

One day the snake in course of conversation said to its master, "I am the son of Raja Indrasha. One day, when I had come out of the ground to drink the air, some people seized me, and would have slain me had you not most opportunely arrived to my rescue. I do not know how I shall ever be able to repay you for your great kindness to me. Would that you knew my father! How glad he would be to see his son's preserver!"

"Where does he live? I should like to see him, if possible," said the young man.

"Well said!" continued the snake. "Do you see yonder mountain? At the bottom of that mountain there is a sacred spring. If you will come with me and dive into that spring, we shall both reach my father's country. Oh! how glad he will be to see you! He will wish to reward you, too. But how can he do that? However, you may be pleased to accept something at his hand. If he asks you what you would like, you would, perhaps, do well to reply, 'The ring on your right hand, and the famous pot and spoon which you possess.' With these in your possession, you would never need anything, for the ring is such that a man has only to speak to it, and immediately a beautiful furnished mansion will be provided for him, while the pot and the spoon will supply him with all manner of the rarest and most delicious foods."

Attended by his three companions the man walked to the well and prepared to jump in, according to the snake's directions.

"O master!" exclaimed the cat and dog, when they saw what he was going to do. "What shall we do? Where shall we go?"

"Wait for me here," he replied. "I am not going far. I shall not be long away." On saying this, he dived into the water and was lost to sight.

"Now what shall we do?" said the dog to the cat.

"We must remain here," replied the cat, "as our master ordered. Do not be anxious about food. I will go to the people's houses and get plenty of food for both of us." And so the cat did, and they both lived very comfortably till their master came again and joined them.

The young man and the snake reached their destination in safety, and information of their arrival was sent to the Raja. His highness commanded his son and the stranger to appear before him. But the snake refused, saying that it could not go to its father till it was released from this stranger who had saved it from a most terrible death and whose slave it therefore was. Then the Raja went and embraced his son and, saluting the stranger, welcomed him to his dominions.

The young man stayed there a few days, during which he received the Raja's right-hand ring, and the pot and spoon, in recognition of His Highness's gratitude to him for having delivered his son. He then returned. On reaching the top of the spring he found his friends, the dog and the cat, waiting for him. They told one another all they had experienced since they had last seen each other, and were all very glad. Afterwards they walked together to the river side, where it was decided to try the powers of the charmed ring and pot and spoon.

The merchant's son spoke to the ring, and immediately a beautiful house and a lovely princess with golden hair appeared. He spoke to the pot and spoon, also, and the most delicious dishes of food were provided for them.

So he married the princess, and they lived very happily for several years, until one morning the princess, while arranging her toilet, put the loose hairs into a hollow bit of reed and threw them into the river that flowed along under the window. The reed floated on the water for many miles, and was at last picked up by the prince of that country, who curiously opened it and saw the golden hair. On finding it the prince rushed off to the palace, locked himself up in his room, and would not leave it. He had fallen desperately in love with the woman whose hair he had picked up, and refused to eat, or drink, or sleep, or move, till she was brought to him.

The king, his father, was in great distress about the matter, and did not know what to do. He feared lest his son should die and leave him without an heir. At last he determined to seek the counsel of his aunt who was an ogress. The old woman consented to help him, and bade him not to be anxious, as she felt certain that she would succeed in getting the beautiful woman for his son's wife.

She assumed the shape of a bee and went along buzzing, and buzzing, and buzzing. Her keen sense of smell soon brought her to the beautiful princess, to whom she appeared as an old hag, holding in one hand a stick by way of support.

She introduced herself to the beautiful princess and said, "I am your aunt whom you have never seen before because I left the country just after your birth." She also embraced and kissed the princess by way of adding force to her words.

The beautiful princess was thoroughly deceived. She returned the ogress's embrace, and invited her to come and stay in the house as long as she could, and treated her with such honour and attention, that the ogress thought to herself, "I shall soon accomplish my errand."

When she had been in the house three days, she began to talk of the charmed ring and advised her to keep it instead of her husband because the latter was constantly out shooting and on other such-like expeditions and might lose it. Accordingly the beautiful princess asked her husband for the ring, and he readily gave it to her.

The ogress waited another day before she asked to see the precious thing. Doubting nothing, the beautiful princess complied, when the ogress seized the ring and, reassuming the form of a bee, flew away with it to the palace where the prince was lying nearly on the point of death.

"Rise up. Be glad. Mourn no more," she said to him. "The woman for whom you yearn will appear at your summons. See, here is the charm, whereby you may bring her before you."

The prince was almost mad with joy when he heard these words, and was so desirous of seeing the beautiful princess that he immediately spoke to the ring, and the house with its fair occupant descended in the midst of the palace garden. He at once entered the building, and telling the beautiful princess of his intense love, entreated her to be his wife. Seeing no escape from the difficulty, she consented on the condition that he would wait one month for her.

Meanwhile the merchant's son had returned from hunting and was terribly distressed not to find his house and wife. There was the place only, just as he knew it before he had tried the charmed ring, which Raja Indrasha had given him. He sat down and determined to put an end to himself.

Presently the cat and dog came up. They had gone away and hidden themselves, when they saw the house and everything disappear. "O master!?' they said, "stay your hand. Your trial is great, but it can be remedied. Give us one month, and we will go and try to recover your wife and house."

"Go," said he, "and may the great God aid your efforts. Bring back my wife, and I shall live."

So the cat and dog started off at a run, and did not stop till they reached the place whither their mistress and the house had been taken.

"We may have some difficulty here," said the cat. "Look, the king has taken our master's wife and house for himself. You stay here. I will go to the house and try to see her."

So the dog sat down, and the cat climbed up to the window of the room, wherein the beautiful princess was sitting, and entered. The princess recognised the cat and informed it of all that had happened to her since she had left them.

"But is there no way of escape from the hands of these people?" she asked.

"Yes," replied the cat, "if you can tell me where the charmed ring is."

"The ring is in the stomach of the ogress," she said.

"All right," said the cat, "I will recover it. If we once get it, everything is ours." Then the cat descended the wall of the house, and went and laid down by a rat's hole and pretended she was dead.

Now at that time a great wedding chanced to be going on among the rat community of that place, and all the rats of the neighbourhood were assembled in that one particular mine by which the cat had lain down. The eldest son of the king of the rats was about to be married. The cat got to know of this, and at once conceived the idea of seizing the bridegroom and making him render the necessary help. Consequently, when the procession poured forth from the hole squealing and jumping in honour of the occasion, it immediately spotted the bridegroom and pounced down on him.

"Oh! let me go, let me go," cried the terrified rat.

"Oh! let him go," squealed all the company. "It is his wedding day."

"No, no," replied the cat. "Not unless you do something for me. Listen. The ogress, who lives in that house with the prince and his wife, has swallowed a ring which I very much want. If you will procure it for me, I will allow the rat to depart unharmed. If you do not, then your prince dies under my feet."


"Very well, we agree," said they all. "Nay, if we do not get the ring for you, devour us all."

This was rather a bold offer. However, they accomplished the thing. At midnight, when the ogress was sound asleep, one of the rats went to her bedside, climbed up on her face, and, inserted its tail into her throat; whereupon the ogress coughed violently, and the ring came out and rolled on to the floor. The rat immediately seized the precious thing and ran off with it to its king, who was very glad, and went at once to the cat and released its son.

As soon as the cat received the ring, she started back with the dog to go and tell their master the good tidings. All seemed safe now. They had only to give the ring to him, and he would speak to it, and the house and beautiful princess would again be with them, and everything would go on as happily as before. "How glad master will be!" they thought, and ran as fast as their legs could carry them.

Now, on the way they had to cross a stream. The dog swam, and the cat sat on its back. Now the dog was jealous of the cat, so he asked for the ring, and threatened to throw the cat into the water if it did not give it up; whereupon the cat gave up the ring. Sorry moment, for the dog at once dropped it, and a fish swallowed it.

"Oh! what shall I do? what shall I do?" said the dog.


"What is done is done," replied the cat. "We must try to recover it, and if we do not succeed we had better drown ourselves in this stream. I have a plan. You go and kill a small lamb, and bring it here to me."


"All right," said the dog, and at once ran off. He soon came back with a dead lamb, and gave it to the cat. The cat got inside the lamb and lay down, telling the dog to go away a little distance and keep quiet.


Not long after this a nadhar, a bird whose look can break the bones of a fish, came and hovered over the lamb, and eventually pounced down on it to carry it away. On this the cat came out and jumped on to the bird, and threatened to kill it if it did not recover the lost ring. This was most readily promised by the nadhar, who immediately flew off to the king of the fishes, and ordered it to make inquiries and to restore the ring. The king of the fishes did so, and the ring was found and carried back to the cat.

"Come along now; I have got the ring," said the cat to the dog.

"No, I will not," said the dog, "unless you let me have the ring. I can carry it as well as you. Let me have it or I will kill you." So the cat was obliged to give up the ring. The careless dog very soon dropped it again. This time it was picked up and carried off by a kite.

"See, see, there it goes — away to that big tree," the cat exclaimed.

"Oh! oh! what have I done?" cried the dog.

"You foolish thing, I knew it would be so," said the cat. "But stop your barking, or you will frighten away the bird to some place where we shall not be able to trace it."

The cat waited till it was quite dark, and then climbed the tree, killed the kite, and recovered the ring. "Come along," it said to the dog when it reached the ground. "We must make haste now. We have been delayed. Our master will die from grief and suspense. Come on."

The dog, now thoroughly ashamed of itself, begged the cat's pardon for all the trouble it had given. It was afraid to ask for the ring the third time, so they both reached their sorrowing master in safety and gave him the precious charm.

In a moment his sorrow was turned into joy. He spoke to the ring, and his beautiful wife and house reappeared, and he and everybody were as happy as ever they could be.


THE END


2022-12-28

Episode 5. The Flame Tree

Welcome to Episode 5 of Public Domain Radio: Mythology and Folklore. You can see the transcript and find out more at PublicDomain.LauraGibbs.net.

Today I am reading a story from The Flame Tree and Other Folk-Lore Stories from Uganda by Rosetta Baskerville with illustrations by Mrs. E. G. Morris. This book was published in 1900 which puts it in the public domain in the United States. You can find the book online at the Internet Archive.

The story I will be reading is the title story: The Flame Tree. You can listen to the embedded audio file below, or with this audio link.



THE FLAME TREE

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in the village of Si in Kyagwe country. Her parents had no other children, and as she grew older they saw with joy that she was more beautiful every day. People who passed through the village saw her and spoke of her beauty until everyone in Kyagwe knew that the most lovely girl in the country lived in the village of Si — and everyone in the province called her “the Maiden.”

The Maiden was a gentle, sweet child, and she loved all the animals and birds and butterflies and flowers, and played with them and knew their language. Her parents were very proud of her, and they often talked of the time when she should be grown up and marry a great chief with many cows and gardens and people, and bring great wealth to her tribe.

When the time came to arrange her marriage, all the chiefs came and offered many gifts, as the custom of the Baganda is, but the Maiden said, “I will marry none of these rich chiefs; I will marry Tutu the peasant boy, who has nothing, because I love him.” Her parents were very grieved when they heard this and would have tried to persuade her, but just then a messenger arrived from the local chief to say that the King of Uganda was going to war with Mbubi, the Chief of the Buvuma Islands, and all the chiefs went away to collect their people for the king’s army.

Then the Chief of Si called all his men together, and Tutu the peasant boy went with them. The army marched down to the Lake shore to fight the Islanders who came across the blue waters in a fleet of war canoes, painted and decorated with horns and feathers and cowry shells and beads. The Maiden was very sad when she said good-bye to Tutu. “Be very brave and win glory,” she said. “Then my father will let me marry you, for I will never marry anyone else.”

But when the men had marched away and only the women and children were left in the village with the old people, the Maiden forgot her brave words and only thought how she could bring Tutu safely back. She called to her friend the hawk. “Come and help me, Double-Eye; fly quickly to the Lake shore and see my peasant boy — tell him I think of him day and night. I cannot be happy till he returns.”

The hawk knew Tutu well, for often on the hillside he saw how Tutu had played with the children (the Baganda call the hawk “Double- Eye,” for they say that with one eye he watches the Earth and with the other he sees where he is going).

The Baganda reached the Lake, and there was a great battle, and Tutu the peasant boy was killed by a stone from an Islander’s sling, but the Baganda rallied and drove the enemy back to their canoes, and Mbubi beat the retreat drum and his men returned to Buvuma.


The hawk flies very quickly, and while he was still a long way off, he saw Tutu lying where he had fallen on the Lake shore. The soldiers were burying the dead, and the hawk watched to see where they would bury the peasant boy of Si so that he might show the Maiden his grave.

Meanwhile, the Maiden waited on the hillside for the hawk’s return, and the moments seemed like hours. She called to a bumblebee who was her friend. “Go quickly to the Lake side and greet my peasant boy; tell him I wait here on the hillside for his return.”

The bumblebee flew away quickly, and when he reached the Lake shore, he asked the hawk for news.

“The Islanders have fled in their canoes,” said the hawk, “but Tutu the peasant boy is dead; a stone from a sling killed him. I wait to see his grave so that I may show it to the Maiden.”

The bumblebee was afraid to go back with the news, so he stayed near the hawk and watched.

Meanwhile the Maiden waited in a fever of impatience, ever gazing at the distant Lake while pacing up and down. She saw a flight of white butterflies playing hide-and-seek round a mimosa bush and called to them. “Oh, white butterflies, how can you play when my heart is breaking? Go to the Lake shore and see if my peasant boy is well.”

So the white butterflies flew away over the green hills to the Lake and arrived on the battlefield just as the soldiers were digging Tutu’s grave, and they settled sadly down on a tuft of grass, their wings drooping with sorrow, for they loved the Maiden who had often played with them in the sunshine.

Far away on the Si hills, the Maiden watched in vain for their return. Filled with fear, she cried to the Sun, “Oh, Chief of the Cloud Land, help me! Take me on one of your beams to the Lake shore so that I may see my peasant boy and tell him of my love.”

The Sun looked down on her with great pity, for he had seen the battle and knew that Tutu the peasant boy was dead. He stretched out one of his long beams, and she caught it in her hands, and he swung her gently round until she rested on the Lake shore.

When she saw the soldiers lifting Tutu’s body to lay it in the grave, she cried to the Sun, “Oh, Chief of the Cloud Land, do not leave me! Burn me with your fire, for how can I live now that my Love is dead?”

Then the Sun was filled with pity and struck her with a hot flame, and the soldiers were very sorry for her too, and they dug a grave for her next to Tutu’s.

And when the people of Si visited the graves the next year, they found a wonderful thing, for a beautiful tree had grown out of the graves with large flame-coloured blossoms which ever turned upwards to the sun, and they took the seeds and planted them in their gardens. And now the country is full of these beautiful trees which are called Flame Trees, but the old people call them Kifabakazi because the stem is as soft as a woman’s heart and a woman can cut it down.


THE END


Episode 4: The Language of the Beasts

Welcome to Episode 4 of Public Domain Radio: Mythology and Folklore.  Today I am reading a story from Moorish Literature by René Basset. This book was published in 1901 which puts it in the public domain in the United States. You can find the book online at the Internet Archive

The story I will be reading is called "The Language of the Beasts." You can listen to the embedded audio file below, or with this audio link.



The Language of the Beasts

Once upon a time there was a man who had much goods. One day he went to market. There came a greyhound, which ate some meat. The butcher gave it a blow, which made it yelp. Seeing this, the heart of the man was touched with compassion. He bought of the butcher half a piece of meat and flung it to the greyhound. The dog took it and went away. The dog was the son of the king of the netherworld!

Later, Fortune changed for the man. He lost all his possessions and began to wash for people. One day, he had gone to wash something; he stretched it on the sand to dry. A jerboa appeared with a ring in its ear. The man ran after it, killed it, hid the ring, made a fire, cooked the jerboa, and ate it.


A woman came out of the earth, seized him, and demanded, “Haven’t you seen my son, with an ear-ring?”

“I haven’t seen anybody,” he answered, “but I saw a jerboa which had a ring in its ear.”

“It is my son.” She drew the man under the earth and told him, “You have eaten my son; you have separated me from him. Now I will separate you from your children, and you shall work in the place of my son.”

The son of the king of the netherworld who had been changed into a greyhound saw this man that day in the netherworld and said to him, “Is it you who bought some meat for a greyhound and threw it to him?”

“It is I.”

“I am that greyhound. Who brought you here?”

“A woman,” answered the man, and he recounted all his adventure.

“Go and make a complaint to the king,” answered the other. “I am his son. I’ll tell him, ‘This man did me a good service.’ When he asks you to go to the treasure and take as much money as you wish, answer him, ‘I don’t want any. I only want you to spit a benediction into my mouth.’ If he asks you, ‘Who told you that?’ answer, ‘Nobody told me.'”

The man went and found the king and complained of the woman. The king called her and asked her, “Why have you taken this man captive?”

“He ate my son.”

“Why was your son metamorphosed into a jerboa? When men see one of those animals, they kill it and eat it.” Then, addressing the man, he said, “Give her back the ear-ring.” The man gave it to her.

“Go,” said the king to the woman. “Take this man to the place from which you brought him.”

The son of the king then said to his father, “This man did me a favor; you ought to reward him.”

The king said to him, “Go to the treasure; take as much money as you can.”

“I don’t want money,” the man answered. “I want you to spit into my mouth a benediction.”

“Who told you that?”

“Nobody told me.”

“You will not be able to bear it.”

“I will be able.”

“When I have spat into your mouth, you will understand the language of beasts and birds; you will know what they say when they speak. But if you reveal it to the people, you will die.”

“I will not reveal it.”

So the king spat into the man’s mouth and sent him away, saying to the woman, “Go and take him back where you found him.” She departed and took him back there.

The man mounted his donkey and came back to his house. He unloaded the donkey and took back to the people the linen he had washed. Then he remounted the beast to go and seek some earth.

He was going to dig when he heard a crow say in the air, “Dig beneath; you will sing when God has made you rich.”

He understood what the crow said, dug beneath, and found a treasure. He filled a basket with it. On the top he put a little earth and went home, but he often returned to the spot.

On one of these occasions, his donkey met a mule, which said, “Are you still working?”

The donkey replied, “My master has found a treasure, and he is taking it away.”

The mule answered, “When you are in a crowd, balk and throw the basket to the ground. People will see it, all will be discovered, and your master will leave you in peace.”

The man had heard every word of this. He filled his basket with earth only. When they arrived at a crowd of people, the donkey kicked and threw the load to the ground. Her master beat her till she had enough.

The man applied himself to gathering the treasure and became a rich merchant.

He had at home some chickens and a dog. One day he went into the granary, and a hen followed him and ate the grain. A rooster said to her, “Bring me a little.”

She answered, “Eat for yourself.”

The master began to laugh.

His wife asked him, “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing.”

“You are laughing at me.”

“Not at all.”

“You must tell me what you are laughing at.”

“If I tell you, I shall die.”

“You shall tell me, and you shall die.”

“Tonight.”

He brought out some grain and said to his wife, “Give alms.” He invited the people, bade them eat, and when they had gone, he brought food to the dog, but the dog would not eat. The neighbor’s dog came, as it did every day, to eat with this dog. Today it found the food intact.

“Come and eat,” the neighbor’s dog said.

“No,” the dog answered.

“Why not?”

Then the dog told the other, “My master, hearing the chickens talk, began to laugh. His wife asked him, ‘Why are you laughing?’ ‘If I tell you, I shall die,’ he said. She said, ‘Tell me and die.’ That is why,” continued the dog, “he has given alms, for when he reveals his secret, he will die, and I shall never find anyone to treat me as well as he has.”

The other dog replied, “As he knows our language, I tell him this: let him take a stick and give it to his wife until she has had enough. As he beats her, let him say, ‘This is what I was laughing at. This is what I was laughing at. This is what I was laughing at,’ until she says to him, ‘Reveal to me nothing.'”

The man heard the conversation of the dogs and went and got a stick. When his wife and he went to bed, she said to him, “Tell me now what you were laughing at.”

Then he took the stick and beat her, saying, “This is what I was laughing at. This is what I was laughing at. This is what I was laughing at,” until she cried out, “Don’t tell it to me. Don’t tell it to me. Don’t tell it to me.”

He left her alone. When the dogs heard, they rejoiced, ran out on the terrace, played, and ate their food.

From that day the wife never again said to her husband, “Tell me that!” They lived happy ever after.

If I have omitted anything, may God forgive me for it.


THE END



2022-12-27

Episode 3: The Enchanted Wine-Jug

Welcome to Episode 3 of Public Domain Radio: Mythology and Folklore. Today I am reading a story from Korean Tales by Horace Allen. This book was published in 1889 which puts it in the public domain in the United States. You can find the book online at the Internet Archive.

The story I will be reading is called The Enchanted Wine-Jug, or Why the Cat and Dog Are Enemies. You can listen to the embedded audio file below, or with this audio link.



THE ENCHANTED WINE-JUG,
or WHY THE CAT AND DOG ARE ENEMIES

In ancient times there lived an old gray-haired man by the river’s bank where the ferryboats land. He was poor but honest, and being childless and compelled to earn his own food, he kept a little wine-shop, which, small though it was, possessed quite a local reputation, for the aged proprietor would permit no quarrelling on his premises, and sold only one brand of wine, and this was of really excellent quality. He did not keep a pot of broth simmering over the coals at his door to tempt the passer-by and thus increase his thirst on leaving. The old man rather preferred the customers who brought their little long-necked bottles, and carried the drink to their homes.

There were some peculiarities—almost mysteries—about this little wine-shop: the old man had apparently always been there and had never seemed any younger. His wine never gave out, no matter how great might be the local thirst, yet he was never seen to make or take in a new supply nor had he a great array of vessels in his shop. On the contrary, he always seemed to pour the wine out of the one and same old bottle, the long, slender neck of which was black and shiny from being so often tipped in his old hand while the generous, warming stream gurgled outward to the bowl. This had long ceased to be a matter of inquiry, however, and only upon the advent of a stranger of an inquiring mind would the subject be re-discussed. The neighbors were assured that the old man was thoroughly good, and that his wine was better. Furthermore, he sold it as reasonably as other men sold a much inferior article. And more than this, they did not care to know or, at least if they did once care, they had gotten over it and were now content to let well enough alone.

I said the old man had no children. That is true, yet he had that which in a slight degree took the place of children, in that they were his daily care, his constant companions, and the partners of his bed and board. These deputy children were none other than a good-natured old dog with laughing face and eyes, long silken ears that were ever on the alert yet too soft to stand erect, a chunky neck, and a large round body covered with long soft tan hair and ending in a bushy tail. He was the very impersonation of canine wisdom and good nature, and seldom became ruffled unless be saw his master worried by the ill behavior of one of his patrons or when a festive flea persisted in attacking him on all sides at once.

His fellow, a cat, would sometimes assist in the onslaught when the dog was about to be defeated and completely ruffled by his tormentor. This Tom-Cat was also a character in his own way, and though past the days when his chief ambition had been to catch his tail, he had such a strong vein of humor running through him that he could not subdue his frivolous propensities. He had been known to drop a dead mouse upon the dog’s nose from the counter while the latter was endeavoring to get a quiet nap, and then he would blow his tail up like a balloon, hump his back and look utterly shocked at such conduct as the startled dog nearly jumped out of his skin and, growling horribly, tore around as though he were either in chase of a wild beast or being chased by one.

This happy couple lived in the greatest contentment with the old man. They slept in the little room with him at night and enjoyed the warm stone floor with its slick oil-paper covering as much as did their master. When the old man would go out on a mild moonlit night to enjoy a pipe of tobacco and gaze at the stars, his companions would rush out and announce to the world that they were not asleep but ready to encounter any and every thing that the darkness might bring forth, so long as it did not enter their master’s private court of which they were in possession.

These two were fair-weather companions up to this time. They had not been with the old man when a bowl of rice was a luxury. Their days did not antedate the period of the successful wine-shop history. The old man, however, often recalled those former days with a shudder and thought with great complacency of the time when he had befriended a divine being in the form of a weary human traveller to whom he gave the last drink his jug contained, and how, when the contents of the little jug had gurgled down the stranger’s throat in a long unbroken draught, the stranger had given him a trifling little thing that looked like a bit of amber, saying, "Drop this into your jug, old man, and so long as it remains there, you will never want for a drink." He did so and, sure enough, the jug was heavy with something, so that he raised it to his lips, and — he could scarcely believe it! — a most delicious stream of wine poured down his parched throat. He took the jug down and peered into its black depths; he shook its sides, causing the elf within to dance and laugh aloud; and, shutting his eyes, again he took another long draught.

Then, meaning well, he remembered the stranger and was about to offer him a drink when he discovered that he was all alone, and so began to wonder at the strange circumstance and to think what he was to do. "I can’t sit here and drink all the time, or I will be drunk, and some thief will carry away my jug. I can’t live on wine alone, yet I dare not leave this strange thing while I seek for work." Like many another to whom fortune has just come, he knew not for a time what to do with his good luck. Finally he hit upon the scheme of keeping a wine-shop, the success of which we have seen, and have perhaps refused the old man credit for the wisdom he displayed in continuing on in a small scale, rather than in exciting unpleasant curiosity and official oppression by turning up his jug and attempting to produce wine at wholesale.

The dog and cat knew the secret and had ever a watchful eye upon the jug, which was never for a moment out of sight of one of the three pairs of eyes. As the brightest day must end in gloom, however, so was this pleasant state soon to be marred by a most sad and far-reaching accident.

One day the news flashed around the neighborhood that the old man’s supply of wine was exhausted not a drop remained in his jug and he had no more with which to refill it. Each man on hearing the news ran to see if it were indeed true, and the little straw-thatched hut and its small court encircled by a mud wall were soon filled with anxious seekers after the truth. The old man admitted the statement to be true, but had little to say while the dog’s ears hung neglectedly over his cheeks, his eyes dropped, and he looked as though he might be asleep but for the persistent manner in which he refused to lie down, but dignifiedly bore his portion of the sorrow sitting upright, but with bowed head.

Tom-Cat seemed to have been charged with agitation enough for the whole family. He walked nervously about the floor till he felt that justice to his tail demanded a higher plane, where shoes could not offend, and then betook himself to the counter, and later to the beam which supported the roof, and made a sort of cats’ and rats’ attic under the thatch. All condoled with the old man, and not one but regretted that their supply of cheap, good wine was exhausted. The old man offered no explanation, though he had about concluded in his own mind that, as no one knew the secret, he must have in some way poured the bit of amber into a customer’s jug. But who possessed the jug he could not surmise, nor could he think of any way of reclaiming it.

He talked the matter over carefully and fully to himself at night, and the dog and cat listened attentively, winking knowingly at each other and puzzling their brains much as to what was to be done and how they were to assist their kind old friend. At last the old man fell asleep, and then, sitting down face to face by his side, the dog and cat began a discussion.

"I am sure," says the cat, "that I can detect that thing if I only come within smelling distance of it, but how do we know where to look for it?"

That was a puzzler, but the dog proposed that they make a search through every house in the neighborhood. "We can go on a mere look see, you know, and while you call on the cats indoors, and keep your smellers open, I will chat with the dogs outside, and if you smell anything you can tell me."

The plan seemed to be the only good one, and it was adopted that very night. They were not cast down because the first search was unsuccessful and continued their work night after night. Sometimes their calls were not appreciated, and in a few cases they had to clear the field by battle before they could go on with the search. No house was neglected, however, and in due time they had done the whole neighborhood, but with no success. They then determined that it must have been carried to the other side of the river, to which place they decided to extend their search as soon as the water was frozen over, so that they could cross on the ice, for they knew they would not be allowed in the crowded ferry-boats, and while the dog could swim, he knew that the water was too icy for that.

As it soon grew very cold, the river froze so solidly that bull-carts, ponies, and all passed over on the ice, and so it remained for near two months, allowing the searching party to return each morning to their poor old master, who seemed completely broken up by his loss and did not venture away from his door, except to buy the few provisions which his little fund of savings would allow. Time flew by without bringing success to the faithful comrades, and the old man began to think they too were deserting him as his old customers had done.

It was nearing the time for the spring thaw and freshet when one night as the cat was chasing around over the roof timbers, in a house away to the outside of the settlement across the river, he detected an odor that caused him to stop so suddenly as to nearly precipitate himself upon a sleeping man on the floor below. He carefully traced up the odor, and found that it came from a soapstone tobacco box that sat upon the top of a high clothespress near by. The box was dusty with neglect, and Tom-Cat concluded that the possessor had accidentally turned the coveted gem (for it was from that the odor came) out into his wine bowl and, not knowing its nature, had put it into this stone box rather than throw it away. The lid was so securely fastened that the box seemed to be one solid piece and in despair of opening it, the cat went out to consult the superior wisdom of the dog, and see what could be done.

"I can’t get up there," said the dog, "nor can you bring me the box, or I might break it."

"I cannot move the thing, or I might push it off and let it fall to the floor and break," said the cat.

So after explaining the things they could not do, the dog finally hit upon a plan they might perhaps successfully carry out. "I will tell you," said he. "You go and see the chief of the rat guild in this neighborhood, and tell him that if he will help you in this matter, we will both let him alone for ten years and not hurt even a mouse of them."

"But what good is that going to do?"

"Why, don’t you see? That stone is no harder than some wood, and they can take turns at it till they gnaw a hole through; then we can easily get the gem."

The cat bowed before the marvellous judgment of the dog and went off to accomplish the somewhat difficult task of obtaining an interview with the master rat. Meanwhile the dog wagged his ears and tail, and strode about with a swinging stride, in imitation of the great official who occasionally walked past his master’s door and who seemed to denote by his haughty gait his superiority to other men. His importance made him impudent, and when the cat returned, to his dismay, he found his friend engaged in a genuine fight with a lot of curs who had dared to intrude upon his period of self-congratulation. Tom-Cat mounted the nearest wall and howled so lustily that the inmates of the house, awakened by the uproar, came out and dispersed the contestants.

The cat had found the rat, who, upon being assured of safety, came to the mouth of his hole and listened attentively to the proposition. It is needless to say he accepted it, and a contract was made forthwith. It was arranged that work was to begin at once, and be continued by relays as long as they could work undisturbed, and when the box was perforated, the cat was to be summoned.

The ice had now broken up and the pair could not return home very easily, so they waited about the neighborhood for some months, picking up a scant living, and making many friends and not a few enemies, for they were a proud pair and ready to fight on provocation. It was warm weather when, one night, the cat almost forgot his compact as he saw a big fat rat slinking along towards him. He crouched low and dug his Iong claws into the earth while every nerve seemed on the jump, but before he was ready to spring upon his prey, he fortunately remembered his contract. It was just in time, too, for as the rat was none other than the other party to the contract, such a mistake at that time would have been fatal to their object.

The rat announced that the hole was completed but was so small at the inside end that they were at a loss to know how to get the gem out unless the cat could reach it with his paw. Having acquainted the dog with the good news, the cat hurried off to see for himself. He could introduce his paw, but as the object was at the other end of the box he could not quite reach it. They were in a dilemma and were about to give up when the cat went again to consult with the dog. The latter promptly told them to put a mouse into the box and let him bring out the gem. They did so, but the hole was too small for the little fellow and his load to get out at the same time, so that much pushing and pulling had to be done before they were successful. They got it safely at last, however, and gave it at once to the dog for safe-keeping.

Then, with much purring and wagging of tails, the contract of friendship was again renewed, and the strange party broke up — the rats to go and jubilate over their safety, the dog and cat to carry the good news to their mourning master. Again canine wisdom was called into play in devising a means for crossing the river. The now happy dog was equal to such a trifling thing as this, however, and instructed the cat that he must take the gem in his mouth, hold it well between his teeth, and then mount his back where he could hold on firmly to the long hair of his neck while he swam across the river. This was agreed upon, and arriving at the river they put the plan into execution.

All went well until, as they neared the opposite bank, a party of school-children chanced to notice them coming and, after their amazement at the strange sight wore away, they burst into uproarious laughter which increased the more they looked at the absurd sight. They clapped their hands and danced with glee, while some fell on the ground and rolled about in an exhaustion of merriment at seeing a cat astride a dog’s back being ferried across the river. The dog was too weary, and consequently matter-of-fact to see much fun in it, but the cat shook his sides till his agitation caused the dog to take in great gulps of water in attempting to keep his head up. This but increased the cat’s merriment, till he broke out in a laugh as hearty as that of the children, and in doing so dropped the precious gem into the water. The dog, seeing the sad accident, dove at once for the gem regardless of the cat, who could not let go in time to escape and was dragged down under the water. Sticking his claws into the dog’s skin, in his agony of suffocation, the cat caused the dog so much pain that he missed the object of his search and came to the surface.

The cat got ashore in some way, greatly angered at the dog’s rude conduct. The latter, however, cared little for that, and as soon as he had shaken the water from his hide, he made a lunge at his unlucky companion who had lost the results of a half year’s faithful work in one moment of foolishness. Dripping like a "drowned cat," Tom-Cat was, however, able to climb a tree, and there he stayed till the sun had dried the water from his fur, and he had spat the water from his inwards in the constant spitting he kept up at his now enemy who kept barking ferociously about the tree below. The cat knew that the dog was dangerous when aroused and was careful not to descend from his perch till the coast was clear, though at one time he really feared the ugly boys would knock him off with stones as they passed.

Once down, he has ever since been careful to avoid the dog, with whom he has never patched up the quarrel. Nor does he wish to do so, for the very sight of a dog causes him to recall that horrible cold ducking and the day spent up a tree, and involuntarily he spits as though still filled with river-water, and his tail blows up as it had never learned to do till the day when for so long its damp and draggled condition would not permit of its assuming the haughty shape.

The dog did not give up his efforts even now. He dove many times in vain and spent most of the following days sitting on the river’s bank, apparently lost in thought. Thus the winter found him—his two chief aims apparently being to find the gem and to kill the cat. The latter kept well out of his way, and the ice now covered the place where the former lay hidden.

One day the dog espied a man spearing fish through a hole in the ice, as was very common. Having a natural desire to be around where any thing eatable was being displayed and feeling a sort of proprietorship in the particular part of the river where the man was fishing and where he himself had had such a sad experience, he went down and looked on. As a fish came up, something natural seemed to greet his nostrils, and then, as the man lay down his catch, the dog grabbed it and rushed off in the greatest haste. He ran with all his might to his master, who, poor man, was now at the end of his string and was almost reduced to begging. He was therefore delighted when his faithful old friend brought him so acceptable a present as a fresh fish. He at once commenced dressing it, but when he slit it open, to his infinite joy, his long-lost gem fell out of the fish’s belly.

The dog was too happy to contain himself, but jumping upon his master, he licked him with his tongue and struck him with his paws, barking meanwhile as though he had again treed the cat. As soon as their joy had become somewhat natural, the old man carefully placed the gem in his trunk, from which he took the last money he had, together with some fine clothes—relics of his more fortunate days. He had feared he must soon pawn these clothes and had even shown them to the brokers. But now he took them out to put them on, as his fortune had returned to him. Leaving the fish baking on the coals, he donned his fine clothes and, taking his last money, he went and purchased wine for his feast and for a beginning — for he knew that once he placed the gem back in the jug, the supply of wine would not cease. On his return he and the good dog made a happy feast of the generous fish, and the old man completely recovered his spirits when he had quaffed deeply of the familiar liquid to which his mouth was now such a stranger.

Going to his trunk directly, he found to his amazement that it contained another suit of clothes exactly like the first ones he had removed, while there lay also a broken string of cash of just the amount which he had previously taken out. Sitting down to think, the whole truth dawned upon him, and he then saw how he had abused his privilege before in being content to use his talisman simply to run a wine-shop, while he might have had money and everything else in abundance by simply giving the charm a chance to work. Acting upon this principle, the old man eventually became immensely wealthy, for he could always duplicate anything with his piece of amber. He carefully tended his faithful dog, who never in his remaining days molested a rat, and never lost an opportunity to attack every cat he saw.

THE END

2022-12-22

Episode 2: The Glass Mountain

Welcome to Episode 2 of Public Domain Radio: Mythology and Folklore

Today I am reading a story from The Polish Fairy Book by Elsie Byrde with illustrations by Livia Kádár. This book was published in 1925 which puts it in the public domain in the United States. You can find the book online at Hathi Trust

The book contains 23 stories, and the story I will be reading is called The Glass Mountain. You can listen to the embedded audio file below, or with this audio link.

THE GLASS MOUNTAIN

Long, long ago, before ever your great-grandfathers were born, and far, far away in the very heart of Poland, there stood a glass mountain. It was so high that the top touched the clouds, and on its summit stood a castle, and in front of the castle stood an apple-tree, and on the apple-tree grew golden apples. 

And in the castle there was a silver room, and in the silver room a beautiful princess, bewitched and kept a prisoner by a wicked sorceress, lived in solitude and sadness. For how could she be happy, although her cellar was full of precious stones and one room in the castle was full of bags of gold, when she could not walk in the sunshine, or hear the songs of the birds, or smell the sweetness of the flowers? 

Many brave knights, having heard of the beauty and wealth of the princess and of how she was kept a prisoner in the castle, had tried to climb the mountain and rescue her, but before they could come any ways near the top they fell down the steep sides and were killed. And for nearly seven years knight after knight tried, and for nearly seven years the princess watched and hoped that one of them would at last reach the castle and save her. But although they came in hundreds from all corners of the world, her hopes were never realised. 

Three days before the end of the seventh year a knight clad in golden armour, of whom it was said that he succeeded in everything that he tried to do, rode to the mountain on a splendid charger. The people assembled in the valley marvelled to see how his horse's hoofs trod the glassy slopes as easily as the straight, level road. The knight reached the top and was already close to the apple tree, and the heart of the princess was beating with joy as she watched him from her window, when, behold: a gigantic hawk flew out of the tree and flapped its wings in the horse's eyes! The horse snorted and reared, his feet slipped on the glassy surface, and he rolled with his rider down the side of the mountain and both were killed on the spot. 

Two days after this, a student, poor but handsome, strong, young, and wise, came and stood at the foot of the mountain. For a year he had been hearing about the beautiful princess who was imprisoned in the castle and about the knights who had tried to save her, and how each had perished in the attempt. Now he stood looking up at the mountain and at the knight who lay dead in his golden armour with his doughty charger at the foot. He thought for a while, as though trying to make up his mind what to do. 

Then he turned and went into the wood. Here he caught a lynx, killed it, cut off its sharp claws, fixed them on his own hands and feet, and then began to climb the mountain just as the sun rose. 

When the poor student had climbed half-way up he began to feel tired and thirsty. A dark cloud floated over his head, and he begged it to give him some water to drink. But in vain: it passed on without letting so much as a drop fall. 

He looked up, and in order to see the top of the mountain he had to throw back his head so far that his sheepskin cap fell off. He looked down, and it seemed as if certain death awaited him below. And the sun was setting. His strength was exhausted; sleep was closing his eyes. He fastened his claws well into the glassy slopes, reclined, and slept till midnight. 


The hawk, meanwhile, was keeping watch on the apple-tree. As the moon rose and threw its light on the shining slopes, the gigantic bird caught sight of the poor student as he lay asleep. It flapped its wings and flew down to destroy him, but just then the student opened his eyes, and when he saw the bird, he resolved to make use of its strength to help himself. The hawk grasped him with its powerful claws, but he seized its legs. The startled bird began to soar, and flew up until it was right over the castle. 

The student looked down. He saw the castle gleaming in the moonlight; he saw the princess sitting in the silver room sighing and dreaming of the knight who might yet save her; he saw the garden and the apple-tree shining with its golden fruit. Then, taking his knife from his belt, he cut off the legs of the hawk. It flew screeching into a cloud and so disappeared, but the student fell among the branches of the apple-tree. He picked an apple and laid it on the wounds made in his flesh by the hawk's sharp talons: they healed at once. 

Then he filled his pockets with apples and went boldly to the castle, which was guarded by a terrible and fierce dragon. The student flung a handful of apples at this dragon, and it disappeared in a great fright down the side of the mountain; the castle door flew open, and he found himself in a grassy court full of flowers. The princess, sitting at her window, saw him coming, and ran joyfully to welcome her rescuer. She gave him her hand, her heart, and all she possessed. 

The next day, as he and the princess were walking in the garden, they saw a crowd of people gathered at the foot of the mountain. They called a swallow, and bade it fly down and find out who these might be. What was their joy when they learned that they were the knights who had lost their lives in trying to save the princess! The blood of the hawk, dropping on them, had revived them, and they sent their grateful thanks to their deliverer. And the poor student and his wife the princess reigned king and queen of the Glass Mountain, and lived happily together for many, many years. The hawk, who was a wicked sorceress, was found dead in a wood. Thus did a poor student by his wits accomplish what many brave knights failed to do by their strength. 

THE END



2022-12-19

Episode 1: All-Wise Helen

Welcome to Episode 1 of Public Domain Radio: Mythology and Folklore

Today I am reading a story from Skazki: Tales and Legends of Old Russia by Ida Zeitlin with illustrations by Theodore Nadejen. This book was published in 1926 which puts it in the public domain in the United States. You can find the book online at Hathi Trust

The book contains 13 stories, and the story I will be reading is called All-Wise Helen. You can listen to the embedded audio file below, or with this audio link.

ALL-WISE HELEN

In ancient days, in a strange tsardom but not in ours — a soldier stood guard at night by an old stone tower. Twenty paces forward he marched and twenty back, and saw nothing save the starry sky over his head and the black earth under his feet. And the door of the tower was sealed with a bronze seal, and of what lay beyond he knew no more than you. 

But one night, in the ninth year of his watch, at the hour of midnight, he heard a great cry from within the tower and he paused in his march and hearkened, and again he heard the cry and yet a third time. And he made the sign of the Lord and said, "God defend me from evil! Who are you that calls?" 

"A demon lying these thirty years in foul captivity." 

"Why do you cry to me?"

"To break the seal, good youth, and set me free. Serve me in this, and I will be your bondsman all your days. If you should be in need, think but upon my name and I will do for you what fiends may do." 

And the soldier broke the bronze seal and opened wide the door, and the demon sped forth like the lightning from heaven and vanished in a whirlwind. But the soldier repented him of his folly, thinking, "What I have done is ill done, for I have flung away mine honor at a fiend's asking, whom I am as like to see again as to see mine own ears. I will tarry here no longer to be flogged through the ranks for a traitor, but take my good leave now while yet I may." And the soldier cast sword and buckler from him, and went where his eyes looked. 

He journeyed for a day and a second and a third, and found neither food to feed his hunger nor water to slake his thirst. And at length his weary limbs would bear him no farther, and he sank down by the wayside and bemoaned his lot. "Search the four corners of the world, you will not find a fool to equal me. Nine years I served in loyalty and faith, and had no care save to burnish my sword and eat what God in His wisdom provided. Now am I free, and likely to starve in my freedom. And this for you, you fiend of darkness, be you forevermore accursed." 

And out of nowhere the demon appeared before him, and said, "Health to you, soldier, and a good end. Why are you downcast?" 

"Shall I be merry that my strength is spent, or rejoice that I perish for lack of food?"

"'Tis an ill soon mended," and the demon darted to and fro and placed before the soldier meat and wine, and he ate and drank till for rich feasting he scarce could remember his name. 

And the demon said, "If you will serve a demon, go with me to my palace. There you shall feast from dawn to dusk and sleep on the feathers of a swan. Only this service will I ask of you — to guard my daughters and protect them from evil." 

And the soldier said, "I will go with you," and the demon bore him beneath his wing across thrice nine kingdoms and the thirtieth kingdom, and in the thirty-third a palace arose, and it was fashioned of black marble and its golden domes gleamed under the sun. And the three fair daughters of the demon came forth to greet him. And the demon embraced them each in turn and said, "My children, I cannot bide with you to guard you from evil, for my duties summon me forth at all seasons. Take then this soldier to be your bodyguard and your protector. Comfort him with meat and drink, clothe him in fine garments and do all things according to his bidding, for he is a man of wisdom and has served the tsar." And once more he embraced his daughters and flew abroad to find what mischief he could do. For a demon knows not peace, but prowls about the earth seeking whom he may confound and whom he may tempt from the path of righteousness to the path of sin. 

But as for the soldier, the maidens drew him into the palace and brought clear water and bathed his hands, and laid him to rest on a silken couch hung all about with glowing tapestries. And so he lived in the palace of the demon, and the daughters of the demon did all things according to his bidding, and so sweetly did the days succeed one another that he would gladly have lived thus for a thousand years. 

But bitter follows upon sweet, and so it was that the heart of the soldier presently grew troubled, for he saw that each night when the moon was high, the three maidens left the house of their father and went forth and came not before the dawn, but where they went or to what end he knew not. And he questioned them, saying, "Where do you go each night when the moon is high?" 

And they flouted him and mocked him and answered, "Wherever we want." 

And the soldier thought, "Is it so, my children? Then will I read this riddle by my wit." And when night came, he lay down upon his couch and made as if to slumber, but slumbered not and bided there his hour. And when the moon was high he left his couch, stealing to the chamber where the maidens slept, and with his knife he made an opening in the oaken door and knelt and peered within. And he saw that they spread upon the ground a carpet of many colors and, clasping hand in hand, they trod upon it and straightway were transformed into white pigeons and beat their wings and flew into the night. And the soldier gazed after them in wonder and thought, "What if I too should tread upon this carpet!" And he entered the chamber and trod upon the carpet and straightway he became a yellow bird, and flew away through the window and the three white pigeons flew before him. 

And when they had journeyed neither a little way nor a long way, they reached a broad green meadow in the midst of which stood a golden throne. And from the four corners of the earth came great birds and small birds and all that lie between, and the heavens were dark with the beat of their wings. And the yellow bird sat in a juniper bush and peered forth with one eye. And presently a light shone in the west, and grew brighter and ever brighter, and a golden chariot appeared drawn by four fiery dragons, and a maiden sat therein and she was so fair as to shame the sun and the stars when they looked on her. And she descended from her chariot and mounted the golden throne, and the birds fluttered about her and came to rest on her head and neck and shoulders, and a tiny fledgeling nestled in her bosom. And she taught them the ways of magic, and how they might circle the globe in the space of a heartbeat, and how they might restore life to the lifeless by the waters of healing. And when the moon had set, she entered her chariot and was borne swiftly from sight. 

And the three white pigeons flew to the palace of the demon, and behind them flew the yellow bird. And the pigeons struck the magic carpet with their rosy feet and became three beautiful maidens, and he that followed struck the carpet and was changed before their eyes into a goodly soldier. And the maidens gazed in wonder and cried, "Where have you come from?" 

And he answered, "I come from a green meadow, where under the full moon a maiden fairer than the sun and stars teaches the ways of magic." 

"Then you are blessed beyond all other men, for none before has seen what you have seen and lived to tell of it. Know this is Helen, potent in charms and mysteries, and had she looked into her book of wonders and learned of your great daring, her dragons would have torn you limb from limb and burned you in the flame they breathe from out their nostrils. Therefore take heed, rash soldier, and if your liking be still to wear your head upon your shoulders, go no more to that green meadow nor look again upon the face of All-Wise Helen." 

But the soldier's ears were sealed to the words of the maiden. And the day passed and the night came, and when the moon was high, the yellow bird flew to the green meadow and sat again behind the juniper. And his eyes and his heart were filled with the beauty of Helen, and he could look neither to the right nor to the left but only upon her face. And when the moon set and she entered her chariot and was borne from sight, he flew out from the juniper bush and followed after. And they came to the palace of Helen, whose walls were wrought with the wonders of magic and whose portals were guarded by two giants. And the giants bore her from the chariot through the halls of the palace to her lofty bedchamber, and laid her upon her silken couch, and left her to slumber. 

But in a green willow beneath her window, the yellow bird sat and sang so plaintively that her heart grew heavy with woe, and peace and sleep were driven from her side. And she summoned her waiting-woman and said, "Go to the green willow and bring to me the little bird that sings beneath my window." 

And the maiden placed a drop of honey on her lips that he might sip of it and called to him, but when she would have seized him in her hand, he hopped from branch to branch and would not suffer her to take him. And Helen left her chamber and went into the garden, and when she put forth her white hand, the bird let fall his wings, and lay therein as in his mother's nest. And she rejoiced in the love that the little bird bore her, and carried him to her chamber and placed him in a cage of gold and hung it in the window. 


And there he sang so blithely that all his brethren, listening to his song, made answer from the garden and the field, and all the air was sweet with the call of birds. 

And when the moon was high, Helen was borne by her fiery dragons to the far green meadow and with the dawn she returned again to the palace. And she entered her chamber, and doffed her bodice of shining jewels, and lay down on her couch and slept. And the bird gazed upon her beauty and thought, "Let me kiss the lips of my beloved and, if need be, die." And he flew from the cage and struck the carpet at Helen's feet, and became a comely youth. And he kissed her lips that were fragrant as the honey of bees, and she flung her white arm above her head and cried as in a dream, "Let him beware who kisses Helen's lips." 

But the folly of a lover is without reason, and as wide as the heavens and as deep as the deep blue sea, and he paid no heed to her cry but kissed her lips again, and again she flung her arm above her head and cried as in a dream, "Let him beware who kisses Helen's lips." 

And yet a third time he kissed her on the lips, then struck the carpet and became a bird and flew into the cage. And Helen awoke, crying, "What treachery is here?" And she opened the book of wonders and found therein the words, "Ask of him whom you have warmed in your hand, and cherished in your heart, and harbored in your chamber." And she went to the cage and cried, "Come forth, vile bird, for I would see you for what you are." And the bird flew forth and struck the carpet and stood before her, a comely youth. And Helen said, "Pray God He may forgive your sins, but for this last your head shall pay the cost." 

And the soldier answered, "I am content." 

Then the maiden clapped her hands and the giants appeared, and she said, "Let the scaffold be built beneath my window, and let the headsman prepare himself to slay my enemy."  And the scaffold was built, and the headsman stood beside it with his gleaming axe, and the soldier laid his neck upon the block. 

And Helen stood in her chamber window, holding a white kerchief in her hand, and the headsman swung the axe above his head and waited for the signal. But before the kerchief fell from Helen's hand, the soldier cried, "Helen, a boon! A boon before I diel" 

"What boon, rash youth?" 

"To sing once more! Then let the axe descend!" 

"Sing, then, but quickly!" 

And the soldier sang. He sang of his love and of his sorrow, and so sweet was his song, and so disconsolate, that the heart of Helen grew as wax within her, and she could not choose but weep for pity and for grief. And the soldier finished his song and laid his neck again upon the block. But Helen said, "I give you for your song ten golden hours wherein to find some corner of the earth hidden from me and from my magic art. If you succeed, then will I wed you. If not, your doom is sealed forevermore." 

And the soldier went forth from the garden and into the dense green forest, and sat him down upon a stone and bowed his head upon his hands and wept. And he thought, "Had I but left you, evil spirit, to languish in your tower!" 

And straightway the demon stood before him, and said, "I come at your call, little brother. Wherein can I serve you?" 

And the soldier answered, "In nothing, save you can find that corner of the earth where Helen's magic art has no avail." 

"Who knows till he has tried?" said the demon, and he struck the earth and became an eagle, and he said to the soldier, "Mount upon my back, and I will carry you beyond the power of Helen's magic art." And the soldier mounted on the eagle's back, and he soared aloft into the blue sky, and the earth was as a grain of dust and straightway was no more. And they mounted ever higher beyond the rainclouds and the clouds of storm, and five hours passed away. 


And Helen opened her book of wonders, and laughed aloud and called to them, saying, "Mighty are your wings, O lord of birds, but mightier the power of All-Wise Helen. Fly down again! You cannot hide from me!" And the eagle flew down to earth, and the soldier said, "How will you help me now?" And the demon smote him upon the thigh, and in the soldier's place there lay a pin and in the demon's place sat a silken mouse. And the mouse seized the pin between his teeth, and sped through the halls of the palace and found the book of wonders and laid the pin between its magic leaves. 

And five hours passed away, and Helen took the book of wonders and looked within. But all the leaves were silent, and though she turned them back and forth, she found no aid nor any word of that for which she sought. And a great rage seized upon her, and she flung the book upon the flames that leaped in the white stove, but the little pin fell from its pages and struck the ground and lo! the soldier stood before her. 

And Helen the Beautiful laid her hand in his, and said, "You have outwitted me, and won me to your wife." And they tarried not, but were wedded straightway and lived together in love until their days were ended. 

THE END