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The Crimson Fairy Book

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Год написания книги
2017
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‘I am thirsty and want some water,’ answered he; and she took a large pot and carried it to the nearest spring, which was a good way off. ‘Here is the water,’ she said to her husband, lifting the heavy pot from her head; but he turned away in disgust.

‘You have drawn it from the pool that is full of frogs and willows; you must get me some more.’ So the woman set out again and walked still further to another lake.

‘This water tastes of rushes,’ he exclaimed, ‘go and get some fresh.’ But when she brought back a third supply he declared that it seemed made up of water-lilies, and that he must have water that was pure, and not spoilt by willows, or frogs, or rushes. So for the fourth time she put her jug on her head, and passing all the lakes she had hitherto tried, she came to another, where the water was golden like honey. She stooped down to drink, when a horrible head bobbed up on the surface.

‘How dare you steal my water?’ cried the head.

‘It is my husband who has sent me,’ she replied, trembling all over. ‘But do not kill me! You shall have my baby, if you will only let me go.’

‘How am I to know which is your baby?’ asked the Ogre.

‘Oh, that is easily managed. I will shave both sides of his head, and hang some white beads round his neck. And when you come to the hut you have only to call “Motikatika!” and he will run to meet you, and you can eat him.’

‘Very well,’ said the ogre, ‘you can go home.’ And after filling the pot she returned, and told her husband of the dreadful danger she had been in.

Now, though his mother did not know it, the baby was a magician and he had heard all that his mother had promised the ogre; and he laughed to himself as he planned how to outwit her.

The next morning she shaved his head on both sides, and hung the white beads round his neck, and said to him: ‘I am going to the fields to work, but you must stay at home. Be sure you do not go outside, or some wild beast may eat you.’

‘Very well,’ answered he.

As soon as his mother was out of sight, the baby took out some magic bones, and placed them in a row before him. ‘You are my father,’ he told one bone, ‘and you are my mother. You are the biggest,’ he said to the third, ‘so you shall be the ogre who wants to eat me; and you,’ to another, ‘are very little, therefore you shall be me. Now, then, tell me what I am to do.’

‘Collect all the babies in the village the same size as yourself,’ answered the bones; ‘shave the sides of their heads, and hang white beads round their necks, and tell them that when anybody calls “Motikatika,” they are to answer to it. And be quick for you have no time to lose.’

Motikatika went out directly, and brought back quite a crowd of babies, and shaved their heads and hung white beads round their little black necks, and just as he had finished, the ground began to shake, and the huge ogre came striding along, crying: ‘Motikatika! Motikatika!’

‘Here we are! here we are!’ answered the babies, all running to meet him.

‘It is Motikatika I want,’ said the ogre.

‘We are all Motikatika,’ they replied. And the ogre sat down in bewilderment, for he dared not eat the children of people who had done him no wrong, or a heavy punishment would befall him. The children waited for a little, wondering, and then they went away.

The ogre remained where he was, till the evening, when the woman returned from the fields.

‘I have not seen Motikatika,’ said he.

‘But why did you not call him by his name, as I told you?’ she asked.

‘I did, but all the babies in the village seemed to be named Motikatika,’ answered the ogre; ‘you cannot think the number who came running to me.’

The woman did not know what to make of it, so, to keep him in a good temper, she entered the hut and prepared a bowl of maize, which she brought him.

‘I do not want maize, I want the baby,’ grumbled he ‘and I will have him.’

‘Have patience,’ answered she; ‘I will call him, and you can eat him at once.’ And she went into the hut and cried, ‘Motikatika!’

‘I am coming, mother,’ replied he; but first he took out his bones, and, crouching down on the ground behind the hut, asked them how he should escape the ogre.

‘Change yourself into a mouse,’ said the bones; and so he did, and the ogre grew tired of waiting, and told the woman she must invent some other plan.

‘To-morrow I will send him into the field to pick some beans for me, and you will find him there, and can eat him.’

‘Very well,’ replied the ogre, ‘and this time I will take care to have him,’ and he went back to his lake.

Next morning Motikatika was sent out with a basket, and told to pick some beans for dinner. On the way to the field he took out his bones and asked them what he was to do to escape from the ogre. ‘Change yourself into a bird and snap off the beans,’ said the bones. And the ogre chased away the bird, not knowing that it was Motikatika.

The ogre went back to the hut and told the woman that she had deceived him again, and that he would not be put off any longer.

‘Return here this evening,’ answered she, ‘and you will find him in bed under this white coverlet. Then you can carry him away, and eat him at once.’

But the boy heard, and consulted his bones, which said: ‘Take the red coverlet from your father’s bed, and put yours on his,’ and so he did. And when the ogre came, he seized Motikatika’s father and carried him outside the hut and ate him. When his wife found out the mistake, she cried bitterly; but Motikatika said: ‘It is only just that he should be eaten, and not I; for it was he, and not I, who sent you to fetch the water.’

[Adapted from the Ba-Ronga (H. Junod).]

Niels And The Giants

On one of the great moors over in Jutland, where trees won’t grow because the soil is so sandy and the wind so strong, there once lived a man and his wife, who had a little house and some sheep, and two sons who helped them to herd them. The elder of the two was called Rasmus, and the younger Niels. Rasmus was quite content to look after sheep, as his father had done before him, but Niels had a fancy to be a hunter, and was not happy till he got hold of a gun and learned to shoot. It was only an old muzzle-loading flint-lock after all, but Niels thought it a great prize, and went about shooting at everything he could see. So much did he practice that in the long run he became a wonderful shot, and was heard of even where he had never been seen. Some people said there was very little in him beyond this, but that was an idea they found reason to change in the course of time.

The parents of Rasmus and Niels were good Catholics, and when they were getting old the mother took it into her head that she would like to go to Rome and see the Pope. The others didn’t see much use in this, but she had her way in the end: they sold all the sheep, shut up the house, and set out for Rome on foot. Niels took his gun with him.

‘What do you want with that?’ said Rasmus; ‘we have plenty to carry without it.’ But Niels could not be happy without his gun, and took it all the same.

It was in the hottest part of summer that they began their journey, so hot that they could not travel at all in the middle of the day, and they were afraid to do it by night lest they might lose their way or fall into the hands of robbers. One day, a little before sunset, they came to an inn which lay at the edge of a forest.

‘We had better stay here for the night,’ said Rasmus.

‘What an idea!’ said Niels, who was growing impatient at the slow progress they were making. ‘We can’t travel by day for the heat, and we remain where we are all night. It will be long enough before we get to Rome if we go on at this rate.’

Rasmus was unwilling to go on, but the two old people sided with Niels, who said, ‘The nights aren’t dark, and the moon will soon be up. We can ask at the inn here, and find out which way we ought to take.’

So they held on for some time, but at last they came to a small opening in the forest, and here they found that the road split in two. There was no sign-post to direct them, and the people in the inn had not told them which of the two roads to take.

‘What’s to be done now?’ said Rasmus. ‘I think we had better have stayed at the inn.’

‘There’s no harm done,’ said Niels. ‘The night is warm, and we can wait here till morning. One of us will keep watch till midnight, and then waken the other.’

Rasmus chose to take the first watch, and the others lay down to sleep. It was very quiet in the forest, and Rasmus could hear the deer and foxes and other animals moving about among the rustling leaves. After the moon rose he could see them occasionally, and when a big stag came quite close to him he got hold of Niels’ gun and shot it.

Niels was wakened by the report. ‘What’s that?’ he said.

‘I’ve just shot a stag,’ said Rasmus, highly pleased with himself.

‘That’s nothing,’ said Niels. ‘I’ve often shot a sparrow, which is a much more difficult thing to do.’

It was now close on midnight, so Niels began his watch, and Rasmus went to sleep. It began to get colder, and Niels began to walk about a little to keep himself warm. He soon found that they were not far from the edge of the forest, and when he climbed up one of the trees there he could see out over the open country beyond. At a little distance he saw a fire, and beside it there sat three giants, busy with broth and beef. They were so huge that the spoons they used were as large as spades, and their forks as big as hay-forks: with these they lifted whole bucketfuls of broth and great joints of meat out of an enormous pot which was set on the ground between them. Niels was startled and rather scared at first, but he comforted himself with the thought that the giants were a good way off, and that if they came nearer he could easily hide among the bushes. After watching them for a little, however, he began to get over his alarm, and finally slid down the tree again, resolved to get his gun and play some tricks with them.

When he had climbed back to his former position, he took good aim, and waited till one of the giants was just in the act of putting a large piece of meat into his mouth. Bang! went Niels’ gun, and the bullet struck the handle of the fork so hard that the point went into the giant’s chin, instead of his mouth.
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