It is told that in the time of Alexander there lived a young man who, when he was sixteen years old, was more beautiful than any one had been before him, or after him. The princesses were fighting for him, calling one another as many names as the moon and stars, and each one vowing that hers only was he to be, none other was worthy of him. Still more beautiful was his singing, for when you heard him your mind stopped still, so sweet was his voice. Even the mothers of the maidens fell in love with him. And grey-haired old kings with long, white beards and bushy eyebrows, would lift their brows to see him, who was as beautiful as a wonder and dear as a ball of gold. But whilst everyone liked him, Alexander could not suffer him. He must hate him, for though Alexander was the mightiest emperor of the world, yet none could please him, no not one even of those princesses. For this reason there grew up an enmity between them, which became so strong that even the sun, which used at the time to walk about on the earth, could not make peace between them. Alexander might perhaps have made peace, but he would do so only on the condition that the other would not make love to his own favourite.
     But the young knight would not hear of any conditions, and in order to spite him still more, he went more often than before to Alexander's favourite wife, and sang to her as much as he could. When the sun told how insolent he was, Alexander turned on him and drove him out of the house. The sun chased him and burned him, so that from the white that he was he turned as black as a coal, and from the big and tall man that he was he shrivelled up and became as small as a hazelnut, and hid himself away under the hearth of a poor woman's house, from which he squeaked "Griji, griji (= take care) that the sun does not catch me." When the sun heard it, he said, "Now thou shalt always live here where thou art, and hungry and thirst shalt thou cry Griji, Griji without stopping." When the beautiful maidens heard what had happened, they became very angry, and then, turning into ants, they brought food to the poor cricket. To this very day they bring him food, so that he may not die of hunger.

Why Do Cats And Dogs Fight

     In the beginning there was no enmity between the cat and the dog, and they lived on friendly terms together and served their master faithfully, each one doing its own work. But as you know, it is very much better to have a written agreement at the beginning than to have a row afterwards, so they decided to draw up an agreement defining the work which each had to do, and decided that the dog was to do the work outside the house, and the cat the work inside. For greater safety the dog agreed that the cat should take care of the agreement, and the cat put it in the loft.
     After a time, the devil, who could not allow peace to last for along time, must needs set the dog up against the cat; so one day the dog remarked to the cat that he was not fairly treated, he did not see why he should have all the trouble outside the house, to watch for thieves and protect the house and suffer from cold and rain, and only have scraps and bones for food, and sometimes nothing at all, whilst the cat had all the comfort, purring and enjoying herself, and living near the hearth in warmth and safety. The cat said, "An agreement is an agreement." The dog replied, "Let me see that agreement." The cat went quickly up the loft to fetch the agreement, but the agreement, which had been nibbled by the mice who were living in the loft, and they went on nibbling away until nothing was left of it but a heap of paper fluff, and as it was as soft as down the mice made their home of it. When the cat came up and saw what the mice had done, her fury knew no bounds, she pursued them madly, killing as many as she could seize, and running after the others with the intent of catching them.
     When she came down the dog asked her for the agreement, and as the cat had not brought it, the dog, taking hold of her, shook her until he got tired of shaking her.
     Since that time, whenever a dog meets a cat he asks her for the agreement, and as she cannot show it to him he goes for her, and the cat, knowing what the mice had done to her, runs after them when she sees them.

Why Does The Cuckoo Call "Cuckoo"

     Once upon the time there was a poor man, who had a wife and two children, a boy and a girl. He was so poor that he possessed nothing in the world but the ashes on his hearth. His wife died, and after a time he married another woman, who was cantankerous and bad-natured, and from morning till evening, as long as the day lasted, she gave the poor man no peace, but snarled and shouted at him. The woman said to him, "Do away with these children. You cannot even keep me, how then can you keep all these mouths " for was she not a step-mother  The poor man stood her nagging for a long time, but then, one night, she quarrelled so much that he promised her that he would take the children into the forest and leave them there. The two children were sitting in the corner but held their peace and heard all that was going on.
     The next day, the man, taking his axe upon his shoulder, called to the children and said to them, "Come with me into the forest, I am going to cut wood." The little children went with him, but before they left, the little girl filled her pocket with ashes from the hearth, and as she walked along she dropped little bits of coal the way they went. After a time they reached a very dense part of the forest, where they could not see their way any longer, and there the man said to the children, "Wait here for awhile, I am only going to cut wood yonder, when I have done I will come back and fetch you home," and leaving the children there in the thicket he went away, heavy-hearted, and returned home. The children waited for awhile, and seeing that their father did not return, the girl knew what he had done. So they slept through the night in the forest, and the next morning, taking her brother by the hand, she followed the trace of the ashes which she had left on the road, and thus came home to their own house. When the step-mother saw them, she did not know what to do with herself, she went almost out of her mind with fury. If she could, she would have swallowed them in a spoonful of water, so furious was she. The husband who was a weakling, tried to pacify her, and to endeavour to get the children away by one means or another, but did not succeed. When the step-mother found that she could not do anything through her husband, she made up her mind that she herself would get rid of them. So one morning, when her husband had gone away, she took the little boy, and without saying anything to anybody, she killed him and gave him to his sister to cut him up, and prepare a meal for all of them. What was she to do. If she was not to be killed like her brother, she had to do what her step-mother told her.
     And so she cut him up and cooked him ready for the meal. But she took the heart, and hid it away in a hollow of a tree. When the step-mother asked her where the heart was, she said that a dog had come and taken it away. In the evening, when the husband came home, she brought the broth with the meat for the husband to eat, and she sat down and ate of it and so did the husband, not knowing that he was eating the flesh of his child. The little girl refused to eat it. She would not touch it. After they had finished, she gathered up all the little bones and hid them in the hollow of the tree where she had put the heart. The next morning, out of that hollow of the tree came a little bird with dark feathers, and sitting on the branch of a tree, began to sing, "Cuckoo! My sister has cooked me, and my father has eaten me, but I am now a cuckoo and safe from my step-mother." When the step-mother, who happened to be near the tree, heard what that little bird was singing, in her fury and fright she took a heavy lump of salt which lay near at hand, and threw it at the cuckoo, but instead of hitting it, the lump fell down on her head and killed her on the spot. And the little boy remained a cuckoo to this very day.

Why Does The Wagtail Wag Its Tail

     The wagtail did not have the tail from the beginning. This tail originally belonged to the wren, but it happened in this manner. The wagtail was one day invited to the wedding of the lark, and as she felt ashamed to go there without any tail, as she had none, she went to the wren and asked the wren to lend her her tail for a few days. The wren, which had as now a small body but in addition a long tail, did not wish to be churlish, and lent her the tail. When the wagtail saw herself with the long tail, she did not know what to do with herself for joy. She was dancing and prancing all the way to the wedding. The wedding lasted some days. When it was over, the wren came to the wagtail and asked for the tail, but the wagtail, finding that the tail suited her so well, pretended not to hear and not to see, and took no notice of the wren. And thus it came about, from the time of the lark's wedding, that the wren has remained without a tail, and the wagtail with one. But, fearing lest the wren would come one day and steal it, the wagtail is wagging its tail continually to be sure that she has it, and that it has not been taken away.

Why Does The Eagle Live On Raw Meat

     Once upon a time there was such a famine in the land that the people lived on grass and even on sawdust, and were dying of hunger in untold numbers. At that time there lived a widow who had managed to husband a little flour. When she found that nothing else was left to her she took that flour and mixing it with water kneaded it into dough. Then she lit the furnace, and got a shovel to put the dough on it and thence into the furnace to bake. This woman had two sons and one daughter. The two boys came in just at the moment when the loaves of dough were on the shovel. They were so hungry that they did not wait for the dough to be baked, and before their mother had time to put the shovel into the oven they got hold of the dough, raw and uncooked as it was, and ate it up to the smallest bit. They did not leave even a little piece for their mother and sister. When the mother saw the terrible greediness of her children, and that they ate the raw stuff and did not leave even a small piece for her or their sister, she cursed them and said, "May you be cursed by God and be changed into two birds; may you hunt the highest peaks of the mountains; may you never be able to eat bread even when you see it, because you did not leave any for me this day." No sooner had the boys gone out of the house than they were changed into two huge eagles, who, spreading their wings, flew away to the ends of the earth, no one knowing whither they had gone. A short time afterwards their sister, who had not been at home when all this happened, came in, and she asked her mother where her brothers were. Her mother did not tell her what had happened, and said that the brothers, finding it was impossible for them to live any longer here, had gone out into the world to live by their own earnings. When the girl heard this she wept, and said, "If that be so, then I will also go out into the wide world, and will seek my brothers until I find them," and would not listen to the words of her mother, who wanted to keep her back. She said good-bye and departed, and travelled on and on for a long time, until she came to the ends of the earth, where the sun and the moon no longer shone and the days were dark.
     So she fell a-praying, and said, "I have gone in search of my brothers; O God, help me," and as she turned round she saw a forest full of high trees which she had not noticed before, and she said to herself, "I will go into that forest; I am sure nothing will happen to me," and so she did. She went into the forest not knowing where she was going. In the midst of it she saw a beautiful meadow full of singing birds, and there was a huge castle surrounded by thick walls and closed by a gate with six locks. At the entrance of the gate there were two huge monsters. She was very frightened. Still she watched until these monsters had fallen asleep, and then slipping past them she entered the gates. There she was met by a fox, who said to her, "What has brought thee hither into this the other world from the world outside; I fear our master will eat you up. As soon as he comes home he will swallow you." Still she went on, and on entering the house she met the mistress of the house, who asked her the same question, and she told her what happened to her from the beginning to the end, and that she had gone out into the wide world to seek for her lost brothers. When the mistress heard her tale she took pity on her, and taking her into the innermost chamber she hid her there, and then went to await the home-coming of the master. About midday, when the sun stands on the cross-ways of heaven, there was a great noise in the house; the place shook, for the master had come, and he was none other than a huge lion.
     At table, the mistress said to him, "O my master, thou hast always been so good to me; I ask you to be once more good and kind; promise me." And he promised, and asked her her request. She told him what had happened to that girl, and said that she had come there from the other world in search of her brothers. The lion called the young girl, who was greatly frightened, and she told him again all that had happened to her. He then said, "I will call together all my subjects and ask them whether they have seen your brothers passing by this way, or whether meeting them they have eaten them."
     So he called from afar and near all the animals who were in his dominion, and he asked them about the brothers. But they all said that these had never passed through the land, and they had neither seen them nor eaten them. So the lion told her to go on. She went on and came to another forest, very big and dark, and walking for a time in it she came to another meadow full of birds singing so beautifully that you could not hear enough of them, and there in the midst was a house deep down in the ground with a thatched roof. The girl went in the house, and there was an old woman sitting on the oven. "May God help you," said the young girl, and the old woman replied, "Welcome, my daughter, what has brought you here into this part of the world never yet trodden by human foot " And the girl told her that she had left her mother's house and gone in search of her brothers. The woman said, "Your brothers are alive, but they are under a spell, for they have been changed into huge birds, and they live yonder in the castle on that steep mountain. If you can reach that place you will be able to see your brothers."
     Full of joy at these tidings, the girl went to the mountain and found that it was a bare, steep, high cliff with little patches of grass here and there, just the place for eagles' nests. Taking courage, she started climbing up, and after endless toil reached the top. There she saw a huge palace surrounded by iron walls, and going inside she saw a room; the table was set and food was on the table. As she was very hungry, she went round the table and took a bit from every dish. Then she hid herself, watching to see what would happen. She had not to wait very long, for soon two huge eagles came from the depths of heaven. They entered and sat down at the table and began to eat their meal. Suddenly one of them said to the other, "Halloo, some one must have been here, for I see that my food has been nibbled." The other said, "It is impossible for any one to come here," and took no further notice of it.
    On the second day they noticed that once again some of their food had been eaten again, and so on the third day, when more of it had been eaten. So they started hunting through the house to find out who was hidden there, for surely some one must have come to eat the food. After a long search they found the girl huddled up in a small room. As soon as they saw her they recognized her as their sister, and taking her into the large hall they asked her what had happened and what had brought her to them. She told them all that happened to her, and how she had been through the forest and climbed up the mountain, and that she was now there with them. The brothers then said to her, "We are under a spell; mother has cursed us. We have now been changed into birds of prey; but if you will stay here for six years and not speak a single word, that will save us; the spell will be broken, and we shall again be human beings." The girl promised to do all they wished, as the old woman whom she had met before had told her that she was to do whatever her brothers would wish her to do. And there she remained. Her brothers spread their wings and flew away. Five years had past, the girl not seeing anything of them, and not speaking all the time. After that time she said to herself, "What is the good of my sitting here and keeping silent when none of them have come; perchance they are dead, or who knows what has happened " No sooner had she opened her mouth and spoken a word when in came her two brothers, and said to her mournfully, "Thou hast not kept thy vow, thou hast broken thy promise, thou hast spoken! If thou wouldst have waited one more year we would have become human beings, and the spell would have been broken. Now we are cursed forever. We must remain eagles and birds of prey." And so they have remained to this day, preying on birds and beasts, living on raw meat, never being able to touch bread, and picking up children under six years of age, the years which their sister had to wait in order to break the spell.

Why Do Larks Fly Towards The Sun 

     A very long time ago, so long indeed that no one can remember when it happened, there lived a king and queen. They had everything which their heart desired, except that they had no children. They were good and charitable people, and distributed alms and prayed, but all in vain. At last, when they had given up every hope, they were suddenly blessed with a child. It was a little girl, and she was so sweet and so beautiful that they called her Little Light. The parents could not see enough of her, and so they kept her in their palace all the time, until one day her mother allowed her to go out into the garden.
     In the wall of the garden there was a small gate leading into a beautiful meadow. The young princess opened the gate and went into the meadow and looked around her, for she had never before been out of her rooms. She rejoiced at the flowers and bird and animals, but more than anything was she pleased with the sight of the sinking sun, and with the golden rays which he sent through the heavens. She was so pleased with that sight that she went every day in the afternoon to watch for the glorious sun and his golden rays. Thus one day passed, and again another day, and she fell deeply in love with the sun, and being in love, she decided that she must go and find him. So great was her love that she did not look at any young man, and grew thinner, weaker and sadder every day, until she could not bear it any longer; and going to her parents, she said that she could not stay any longer at home, and that she must go out into the world. The parents tried in vain to keep her at home, but, seeing that all their efforts were of no avail, they let her go, and she went. She took money and food with her, and went along not knowing the right way.
     So long as the money and the food lasted she felt quite happy, but a time came when both had come to an end, and she was in a very sore plight, not knowing what to do. Moreover, she was frightened to go alone, for she was in woman's clothes. Suddenly she found herself in the midst of a wide field full of dead bodies. A battle had been fought there, and the field was strewn with the dead. So she took one of the uniforms of the soldiers, dressed herself up in a man's garb, and, finding a horse, mounted on it and rode along with her face turned towards the sinking sun. On the way she found then an old woman dressed all in black, sitting close to a well, and weaving gossamer and cobweb. She addressed her as the Black One, which seemed to please the old woman, who told her to turn towards the rising sun until she would come to a glass mountain; she would have to reach the top of the mountain, and then she was sure to find her way to the palace of the sun. She rode on and came to the glass mountain. When she had reached the top, after having had the horse shod again at the bottom of the hill, she found a palace, but it was not that of the sun. It was inhabited by three sisters, who received her in a very friendly fashion, and treated her with great hospitality. Thinking that she was a man, they all fell in love with her; but she told them she was a woman, and they left her to continue her quest. Before leaving the gave her a magic sword, which, if drawn half out of its sheath, killed half the number of an army, and if drawn entirely, killed the entire army of the enemy. By this means she was able to vanquish the enemies of a great king, who, discovering her to be a girl, wanted to marry her; but she escaped and continued her journey towards the rising sun.
     On the way she met with a very old man, whose white hair had grown down to his ankles, and who was so weak that he could scarcely open his mouth. Little Light washed him and fed him and cut his hair. When he had eaten and felt himself refreshed, he told her which way to go; then he gave her a piece of bread, and told her that on her way to the palace a wild dog would come out against her; she must give him that bread and none other, and before entering the palace she must drink of the water of the fountain at the gate of the palace. A three-headed dog met her, she gave him the bread, and he suddenly disappeared after having eaten it. Then she went and drank of the water in the well, and was able to look at the golden palace in front of her, which was so radiant and so luminous that no human eye could look at it without being blinded. Then she went into the palace, and there, in the middle of the hall, who should be sitting at the table and eating but the glorious sun, beautiful and luminous as only the sun can be.
     When Little Light saw him, she almost fainted with joy, but he also, turning to her and seeing her beautiful face, felt himself drawn to her, for he had never yet seen such a wonderful human being. There in the hall was also the mother of the sun. When she saw Little Light, she turned fiercely on her, cursing her said, "O thou wicked child of man, born of sin, thou hast come here to defile the immaculate purity of my son and to lead him on to sin and wickedness. Thou shalt no longer remain a human being, thou shalt become a bird flying as high as to get near the sun, and there, seeing the beloved who cannot be thine, thou shalt cry plaintively for him whom thou hast won and yet lost." At the moment Little Light was changed into the lark, which at the break of dawn, before the sun rises, flies up into the sky trying to get as near as possible to the sun, and there cries plaintively at the loss of her beloved.

Where Did The Swan Come From 

     Once upon a time a king went out hunting, and after he had been hunting in the forest for a long time without finding anything, he found himself suddenly in an open plain, in which there was a huge lake, and in the midst of the lake he saw there a bird swimming about, the like of which he had never seen before. It was a swan.
     Drawing his bow, he wanted to shoot it. To his surprise it spoke to him in a human voice, and said, "Do not kill me." So he tried his best to catch it, and succeeded. Pleased with the capture of the bird, he carried it home alive, and gave it to the cook to kill it to make a meal of it for him. The cook was a Gipsy. She whetted her knife and went to the bird to cut its throat, when, to her astonishment, the bird turned three somersaults, and there stood before her a most beautiful maiden, more beautiful than she had ever seen before. So she ran to the king and told him what had happened.
     The king, who first thought that the cook was trying to play some trickery with him, did not listen to her, but when she persisted in her tale, driven by curiosity, went into the kitchen, and there he saw a girl more beautiful than any that he had ever yet set his eyes upon.
     He asked her who she was, and she said she was the swan who was swimming on the lake, that she had willfully gone away from her mother, who lived in the land of fairies, and that she had left two sisters behind. So the king took her into the palace and married her. The Gipsy, who was a pretty wench, had thought that the king would marry her, and when she saw what had happened, she was very angry. But she managed to conceal her anger, and tried to be kind to the new queen, biding her time all the while.
     The king and the queen lived on for a while in complete happiness, and after a time a child was born unto her.
     It so happened that the king had to go on a long journey, leaving the wife and child in the care of the Gipsy. One day the Gipsy came to the queen, and said to her, "Why do you always sit in the palace come, let us walk a little in the garden, to hear the birds singing, and to see the beautiful flowers." The queen, who had no suspicion, took the advice of the Gipsy, and went with her for a walk into the garden. In the middle of the garden there was a deep well, and the Gipsy said artfully to the young queen, "Just bend over the well, and look into the water below, and see whether your face has remained so beautiful as it was on the first day when you turned into a maiden from being a swan."
     The queen bent over the well to look down into the depths, and that was what the Gipsy was waiting for, for no sooner did the queen bend over the well, than, getting hold of her by her legs, she threw her down head foremost into the well and drowned her. When the king came home and did not find the queen, he asked what had happened, and where she was. The Gipsy, who had meanwhile taken charge of the child, and looked after it very carefully, said to the king that the young queen, pining for her old home, had turned again into a swan and flown away.
     The king was deeply grieved when he heard this, but believing what the Gipsy had told him, he thought that nothing could be done, and resigned himself to the loss of his wife.
     The Gipsy woman looked after the child with great care, hoping thereby that she might win the king's love, and that he would marry her. A month, a year passed, and nothing was heard of the wife. And the king, seeing the apparent affection of the Gipsy for the child, decided at last to marry her, and fixed the day of the wedding. Out of the fountain into which the queen had been thrown, there grew a willow tree with three branches, one stem in the middle and two branching out right and left. Not far from the garden there lived a man who had a large flock of sheep. One day he sent his boy to lead the sheep to the field. On his way the boy passed the king's garden with the well in the middle of it.
     As the boy left his flute at home, when he saw the willow he thought he would cut one of the branches and make a flute.
     Going into the garden, he cut the middle stem, and made a flute of it. When he put it to his lips, the flute by itself began to play as follows, "O boy, do not blow too hard, for my heart is aching for my little babe which I left behind in the cradle, and to suckle at the black breast of a Gipsy." When the boy heard what the flute was playing, not understanding what it meant, he was greatly astonished, and ran home to tell his father what had happened with the flute.
     The father, angry that he had left the sheep alone, scolded him, and took away the flute. Then he tried to see whether the boy had told the truth. As soon as he put it to his mouth the flute started playing the same tune as when the boy had tried playing it. The father said nothing, and wondering at the meaning of the words he hid the flute away in a cupboard.
     When the king's wedding-day drew near, all the musicians of the kingdom were invited to come and play at the banquet. Some of them passed the old man's home, and hearing from them that they were going to play at the king's banquet, he remembered the marvelous flute, and he asked whether he could not go also, as he could play the flute so wonderfully well. His son, the young boy, had meanwhile gone into the garden in the hope of getting another flute, as the willow had three branches. So he cut one of the branches and made a flute of it. Now this flute did not play at all.
     When the old man came to the palace, there was much rejoicing and singing. At last his turn came to play. As soon as he put the flute to his lips, the flute sang, "O man, do not blow so hard, for my heart aches for my little babe left in the cradle to be suckled by a black Gipsy."
     The Gipsy, who was the king's bride and sat at the head of the table, at once understood the saying of the flute, although she did not know what the flute had to do with the queen whom she had killed.
     The king, who marvelled greatly at the flute and at the tune which it was singing, took a gold piece and gave it to the man for the flute, and when he started blowing it, the flute began to sing, "O my dear husband, do not blow so hard, for my heart aches for our little babe whom I left in the cradle to be suckled by the black Gipsy. Quickly, quickly, do away with this cruel Gipsy, as otherwise thou wilt lose thy wife."
     The guests who were present marvelled at the song, and no one understood its meaning. The Gipsy, however, who understood full well what it meant, turning to the king, said, "Illustrious king, do not blow this flute and make thyself ridiculous before thy guests, throw it into the fire." But the king, who felt offended by the words of the Gipsy, made her take up the flute and blow. With great difficulty she submitted to the order of the king, and she was quite justified in refusing to play it, for no sooner had she put the flute to her lips when it sang: "You enemy of mine, do not blow hard, for my heart aches for my little babe left in the cradle to be suckled by thee, thou evil-minded Gipsy. Thou hast thrown me into the well, and there put an end to my life, but God had pity on me, and he has preserved me to be again the true wife of this illustrious king."
     Furious at these words, the Gipsy threw the flute away with so much force that she thought it would break into thousands of splinters. But it was not to be as she thought, for by this very throw the flute was changed into a beautiful woman, more beautiful, indeed, than any had seen before. She was the very queen whom the Gipsy had thrown into the well.
     When the king saw her, he embraced her and kissed her, and asked her where she had been such a long time. She told him that she had slept at the bottom of the well into which she had been thrown by the Gipsy, who had hoped to become the queen, and this would have come to pass had it not been for the boy cutting a flute out of the stem of the willow tree. "And now, punish the Gipsy as she deserves, otherwise thy wife must leave thee."
     When the king heard these words, he called the boy and asked him whether he had cut himself a flute from the stem of the willow tree which had grown out of the well in the garden.
     "It is so, O illustrious king;" said the boy, "and may I be forgiven for the audacity of going into the king's garden. I went and cut for myself a flute from the stem of the willow tree, and when I began to blow it, it played, "Do not blow so hard, O boy, for my heart is aching within me, etc." Then he told him he had gone back to his father, who instead of praising him for the marvelous flute, gave him a good shaking. He had then gone a second time into the garden, and had cut off one of the branches to make a flute; but this did not play like the first one. The king gave the boy a very rich gift, and he ordered the Gipsy to be killed.
     Some time afterwards, the queen came to the king and asked leave to go to her mother to tell her all that had happened to her, and to say good-bye for ever now, as she henceforth would live among human beings. The king reluctantly gave way. She then made three somersaults, and again became a swan, as she had ben when the king found her for the first time on the waters of the lake.
     Spreading her wings she flew far away until she reached the house of her mother, who was quite alone. Her two sisters were not there. They had left her some time ago and no one whither they had gone. The young queen did not go into the house, she was probably afraid lest her mother would not let her go back again, so she settled on the roof, and there she sang: "Remain in health, good mother mine, as the joy is no longer granted thee to have me with thee in thine house, for thou wilt only see me again when I lose my kingdom, dear mother mine, not before, and not till then." And without waiting for the answer of her mother she returned back again to her husband. Sitting on the window sill, she sung again: "Rise up, O husband, open the doors, wake up the servants and let them be a witness of my faithfulness to thee, for since I have married thee I have left my mother, and my sisters have gone away from me, and from a swan I have become a true wife to live in happiness with thee. Henceforth I shall no longer be a swan, but thou must take care of me that I do not go hence from thee. I do not know whether my fate will be a better one by being a queen in this world. O sweet water, how I long to bathe in thee! And my white feathers, they will belong to my sisters. Since I am to leave them forever, and my mother with them, O Lord, what have I done. Shall I be able to live upon the earth, and shall I keep the kingdom. Thou, O Lord, O merciful, hearken unto me and grant that this kingdom may not be in vain." And turning again head over heels, she became a woman as before, and entering the palace she lived there with her husband, the king, and if they have not died since they are still alive.

Why Has The Stork No Tail

     The hero of the tale, Floria, having shown some kindness to a stork, who afterwards turns out to be the king of the storks, receives from him a feather, which when taken up at any time of danger would bring the stork to him and help him. And thus it came to pass that the hero, finding himself at one time in danger, remembered the gift of the stork. He took out the feather from the place where he had hidden it, and waved it. At once the stork appeared and asked Floria what he could do for him. He told him the king had ordered him to bring the water of life and the water of death. The stork replied that if it could possibly be got he would certainly do it for him. Returning to his palace, the stork, who was the king of storks, called all the storks together, and asked them whether they had seen or heard or been near the mountains that knock against one another, at the bottom of which are the fountains of the water of life and death.
     All the young and strong looked at one another, and not even the oldest one ventured to reply. He asked them again, and then they said they had never heard or seen anything of the waters of life and death. At last there came from the rear a stork, lame on one foot, blind in one eye, and with a shrivelled-up body, and with half of his feathers plucked out. And he said, "May it please your majesty, I have been there where the mountains knock one against the other, and the proofs of it are my blinded eye and my crooked leg." When the king saw him in the state in which he was, he did not even take any notice of him.
     Turning to the other storks, he said, "Is there any one among you who, for my sake, will run the risk and go to these mountains and bring the water. " Not one of the young and strong, and not even any of the older ones who were still strong replied. They all kept silence. But the lame stork said to the king, "For your sake, O Master King, I will again put my life in danger and go." The king again did not look at him, and turning to the others repeated his question; but when he saw that they all kept silence, he at last turned to the stork and said to him:
     "Dost thou really believe, crippled and broken as thou art, that thou wilt be able to carry out my command "
     "I will certainly try," he said.
     "Wilt thou put me to shame " the king again said.
     "I hope not; but thou must bind on my wings some meat for my food, and tie the two bottles for the water to my legs."
     The other storks, on hearing his words, laughed at what they thought his conceit, but he took no notice of it. The king was very pleased, and did as the stork had asked. He tied on his wings a quantity of fresh meat, which would last him for his journey, and the two bottles were fastened to his legs. He said to him, "A pleasant journey." The stork, thus prepared for his journey, rose up into the heavens, and away he went straight to the place where the mountains were knocking against one another and prevented any one approaching the fountains of life and death. It was when the sun had risen as high as a lance that he espied in the distance those huge mountains which, when they knocked against one another, shook the earth and made a noise that struck fear and terror into the hearts of those who were a long distance away.
     When the mountains had moved back a little before knocking against one another, the stork wanted to plunge into the depths and get the water. But there came suddenly to him a swallow from the heart of the mountain, and said to him, "Do not go a step further, for thou art surely lost."
     "Who art thou who stops me in my way " asked the stork angrily.
     "I am the guardian spirit of these mountains, appointed to save every living creature that has the misfortune to come near them."
     "What am I to do then to be safe "
     "Hast thou come to fetch the waters of life and death?"
     "Yes."
     "If that be so, then thou must wait till noon, when the mountains rest for half an hour. As soon as thou seest that a short time has passed and they do not move, then rise up as high as possible into the air, and drop down straight to the bottom of the mountain. There, standing on the ledge of the stone between the two waters, dip thy bottles into the fountains and wait till they are filled. Then rise as thou hast got down, but beware lest thou touchest the walls of the mountain or even a pebble, or thou art lost."
     The stork did as the swallow had told him; he waited till noontide, and when he saw that the mountains had gone to sleep, he rose up into the air, and, plunging down into the depth, he settled on the ledge of the stone and filled his bottles. Feeling that they had been filled, he rose with them as he had got down, but when he had reached almost the top of the mountains, he touched a pebble. No sooner than he had done so, when the two mountains closed furiously upon him; but they did not catch any part of him, except the tail, which remained locked up fast between the two peaks of the mountains.
     With a strong movement he tore himself away, happy that he had saved his life and the two bottles with the waters of life and death, not caring for the loss of his tail.
     And he returned the way he had come, and reached the palace of the king of the storks in time for the delivery of the bottles. When he reached the palace, all the storks were assembled before the king, waiting to see what would happen to the lame and blind one who had tried to put them to shame. When they saw him coming back, they noticed that he had lost his tail, and they began jeering at him and laughing, for he looked all the more ungainly, from having already been so ugly before.
     But the king was overjoyed with the exploit of his faithful messenger; and he turned angrily on the storks and said, "Why are you jeering and mocking Just look round and see where are your tails. And you have not lost them in so honourable a manner as this my faithful messenger." On hearing this they turned round, and lo! one and all of them had lost their tails.
     And this is the reason why they have remained without a tail to this very day.

* The water of death means a water which, poured over a body which has been cut in pieces, causes all these pieces to join together, and the wounds to heal. The water of life restores to life the bodies thus joined.
 

Why Has The Swallow A Forked Tail And A Red Spot On Its Breast

     Once upon a time there was a widow who had one only child. She had a flock of sheep and a magic dog. The widow died, and the girl was left quite alone. So she took the flock of sheep and went to feed them in the mountains, accompanied only by her faithful little dog. After some time, there came also to the same pastures a young shepherd leading his flock. Before leaving, the girl had put on man's clothes, and so when the other shepherd, who was the son of a she-demon, came, they got very friendly, and the girl often went with her flock to spend the night in the house of the demon. She did not know who the other shepherd was, nor who was his mother. After a time, the young man began to feel suspicious about his comrade, and he said to his mother, "Methinks my friend is a girl, despite his man's clothes; his gait and his speech are just like that of a maiden." The mother would not listen; but after a time, when the son went on saying that he believed his mate to be a maiden, she said to him, "Very well, then, we will put him to the test, and we can easily find out what he is. I will take a special flower and put it under his pillow, and if it is faded in the morning he is for sure a maiden." The dog, who knew what the old woman was up to, called the girl aside and told her, "Listen to me, my mistress. Follow my advice, it will go well with thee. The old dragon is going to put a flower under thy pillow as soon as thou hast got to bed; now keep awake, take it out from under the pillow and put it on the pillow. Early in the morning, before anyone else is awake, put it back under the pillow, and nothing will happen to thee."
     The girl did as the dog had told her. She took the flower from under her pillow, and kept it on her pillow all through the night, and put it back again early in the morning. The old woman afterwards took the flower out; she found it was even fresher than it had been the night before. So she told her son that he must be mistaken. His companion could not be a maiden. He persisted in his belief despite of it, and so the woman said to him, "Go and ask your companion to bathe, and if he is eager to do so, be sure it is not a girl; but if he makes any difficulties, you will know that you are right."
     The dog, who knew of the plotting of the old woman, told the girl to put on a pleasant face, and not to hesitate to go to the river with her companion, "for," he said, "no sooner will you be near the water than I will get among the flock, and so you will have to jump up and run after the sheep, and there will be no more question of bathing." As the dog said, so he did, and again the young man did not know what to make of his companion. The mother then told him to go with his companion to the forest, and to find a big tree, and to ask his companion what it would be good for. If he replies for distaff and spindle, then it is a girl; but if he answers it is good to make carts of, then it is a boy." So he took her into the forest, and, finding a big tree, he asked her what could best be made out of the wood. The girl replied "carts." When the girl saw that the boy troubled her too much, she went to the sea-shore, and, smiting the waves with her shepherds staff, she rent the waters in twain, and passed dry shod with her flock and dog to the other shore of the sea. The other shepherd, the demon, came to the sea-shore just when she had already passed over to the other side. She removed her fur cap, and her long golden hair fell down to her knees. Then she moved her wand, and the waters again closed up. When he saw that she had escaped him, he was very angry, and he went to his mother and told her all that had happened. She said to him, "Do not mind; I will help you to get her into your hands." So the old woman went to the sea and built there a huge ship. This she filled with all kinds of merchandise, and told the young man to sail in it across the sea, and try and find his beloved; and she told him how to get hold of her when he had found her. So sailing along in the boat he got across, and anchored near a great town. The people came out to look at the wares which he had brought. The last to come, led by curiosity, was the girl. As soon as he saw that she had entered the boat, he set sail, and off he went. When the girl saw what had happened, she recognized him, and, finding herself in his power, she offered no resistance. But when they were in the middle of the sea, she took off the ring which she had on her finger, and, casting it into the sea, she said to him, "From this day onward I shall remain dumb. I shall not speak to thee until this ring is brought back to me"; and she kept her word faithfully. For many a year she lived with him, but never spoke a word. One day her mother-in-law thought that it would be better to get rid of her. As she herself dared not kill her, she sent the girl with a message to her elder sister to bring her the sword and the threads, knowing full well that her sister would kill her. When her husband heard the errand on which she was sent, he came out quietly, and, meeting her outside the house, he whispered:
     "When you go to my mother's sister, she is sure to offer you some food; take the first bite, and keep it under your tongue. Then you may eat; otherwise you will be lost." The girl never replied, but listened attentively to what he had said. So she came to the old crone, who was ever so much worse than her own mother-in-law, and she certainly was bad enough. As soon as she entered the house, the young woman greeted her. Great was the surprise of the old woman, who said, "Now who is to believe my sister; she made that girl out to be dumb, and now she speaks so sweetly. Come in, my child."
     Then she went out, killed a cock, grilled it, and gave it to her to eat.
     The young woman, remembering her husband's advice, took the first bite and put it under her tongue; then she sat down and made a hearty meal of the cock. When she had finished, the old woman said, "I do not have the sword or the threads; there are with my younger sister. She lives not very far from here; you just go to her." Taking leave, she went a little way further, and she came to the second sister, who was worse than the other. She saluted her when she came in, and this sister also said:
     "How is one to believe your mother-in-law. She made you out to be dumb, and now you speak so sweetly and so nicely. What have you come for?"
     She said, "I have come for the sword and the threads."
     "Sit down and eat, my child," she said, and, going out, she took a young lamb and killed it and prepared it for her. Remembering the advice given her, she out the first bite under her tongue, and then she went on eating until she had satisfied her hunger.
     When she had finished eating, the old woman said, "I do not have the sword; it is with my younger sister. You must go further; she lives quite close by, and she will give it to you."
     So she went to the third sister, and greeting this third one, who was the worst of all and the ugliest of all, said to her, "Sit down and eat." Then she took out the hand of a dead man and gave it to her to eat. But this the wife could not do.
     Meanwhile the old woman and gone up to the loft of the house, saying she was to fetch the spade, but in reality to watch the young girl to see what she was doing.
     When she was left alone, she took the hand and threw it under the hearth. Then came a voice from the loft crying, "Hand, hand, where art thou " and from under the hearth the hand replied, "Here I am under the hearth." So she turned on the young woman and said, "You eat this or something worse will happen to you; I am going to eat you." She was very frightened; so she took it and put it in her bosom under her girdle. And again the old woman cried, "Hand, hand, where art thou " and the hand replied, "I am under her heart." The old witch thought that she had eaten it, and coming down, she brought the sword and gave it to her together with the threads. Before she left, the old witch asked her to give her back the hand; so she gave it back to her. And so she had to let her go in peace, as she had retained nothing.
     Then, coming to the other sister, this one said to her, "Give me back my lamb." The young woman heaved, and out came the little lamb quite alive and started frolicking through the house. It was because she had kept the first bite under her tongue. She therefore had to let her go unharmed. Then she came to the eldest one. And she said to her, "Give me back my cock," and then the young woman spat, and out came the cock, running and crowing through the house. And so she came back to her own house with the sword and the threads.
     Shortly before she had come, some fishermen had caught a large number of fish, among them a huge fish which her husband had bought. When he opened that fish, he found the ring which his wife had cast into the sea. So, full of joy, he ran out to meet her and to give her the ring. He embraced her with one hand, and with the other, which was full of the blood of the fish, he stroked her chin gently, saying to her, "O my dear little girl, here is thy ring." No sooner had he spoken these words, when the woman was changed into a bird with a red breast, the mark of the blood stains on her chain; then, breaking a pane of the window she flew away. Her husband tried to catch hold of her, but he only got hold of the middle feathers of the tail, which remained in his hand. The bird flew away. The young woman had become a swallow. For that reason the tail looks like two prongs of a fork, for the middle part was plucked out by the husband in his attempt to catch her.

   Back to the Main Page