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The Battle
of the Birds will tell you
a story about the wren. There was
once a farmer who was seeking a servant, and the wren met him and said:
"What
are you seeking?" "I
am seeking a servant," said the farmer to the wren. "Will
you take me?" said the wren. "You,
you poor creature, what good would you do?" "Try
me," said the wren. So he
engaged him, and the first work he set him to do was threshing in the
barn. The
wren threshed (what did he thresh with? Why a flail to be sure), and he
knocked
off one grain. A mouse came out and she eats that. "I'll
trouble you not to do that again," said the wren. He struck
again, and he struck off two grains. Out came the mouse and she eats
them. So they
arranged a contest to see who was strongest, and the wren brings his
twelve birds,
and the mouse her tribe. "You
have your tribe with you," said the wren. "As
well as yourself," said the mouse, and she struck out her leg proudly.
But
the wren broke it with his flail, and there was a pitched battle on a
set day. When every
creature and bird was gathering to battle, the son of the king of
Tethertown said
that he would go to see the battle, and that he would bring sure word
home to his
father the king, who would be king of the creatures this year. The
battle was over
before he arrived all but one fight, between a great black raven and a
snake. The
snake was twined about the raven's neck, and the raven held the snake's
throat in
his beak, and it seemed as if the snake would get the victory over the
raven. When
the king's son saw this he helped the raven, and with one blow takes
the head off
the snake. When the raven had taken breath, and saw that the snake was
dead, he
said, "For thy kindness to me this day, I will give thee a sight. Come
up now
on the root of my two wings." The king's son put his hands about the
raven
before his wings, and, before he stopped, he took him over nine Bens,
and nine Glens,
and nine Mountain Moors. "Now,"
said the raven, "see you that house yonder? Go now to it. It is a
sister of
mine that makes her dwelling in it; and I will go bail that you are
welcome. And
if she asks you, Were you at the battle of the birds? say you were. And
if she asks,
'Did you see any one like me,' say you did, but be sure that you meet
me to-morrow
morning here, in this place." The king's son got good and right good
treatment
that night. Meat of each meat, drink of each drink, warm water to his
feet, and
a soft bed for his limbs. On the
next day the raven gave him the same sight over six Bens, and six
Glens, and six
Mountain Moors. They saw a bothy far off, but, though far off, they
were soon there.
He got good treatment this night, as before — plenty of meat and drink,
and warm
water to his feet, and a soft bed to his limbs — and on the next day it
was the
same thing, over three Bens and three Glens, and three Mountain Moors. On the
third morning, instead of seeing the raven as at the other times, who
should meet
him but the handsomest lad he ever saw, with gold rings in his hair,
with a bundle
in his hand. The king's son asked this lad if he had seen a big black
raven. Said the
lad to him, "You will never see the raven again, for I am that raven. I
was
put under spells by a bad druid; it was meeting you that loosed me, and
for that
you shall get this bundle. Now," said the lad, "you must turn back on
the self-same steps, and lie a night in each house as before; but you
must not loose
the bundle which I gave ye, till in the place where you would most wish
to dwell." The king's
son turned his back to the lad, and his face to his father's house; and
he got lodging
from the raven's sisters, just as he got it when going forward. When he
was nearing
his father's house he was going through a close wood. It seemed to him
that the
bundle was growing heavy, and he thought he would look what was in it. When he
loosed the bundle he was astonished. In a twinkling he sees the very
grandest place
he ever saw. A great castle, and an orchard about the castle, in which
was every
kind of fruit and herb. He stood full of wonder and regret for having
loosed the
bundle — for it was not in his power to put it back again — and he
would have wished
this pretty place to be in the pretty little green hollow that was
opposite his
father's house; but he looked up and saw a great giant coming towards
him. "Bad's
the place where you have built the house, king's son," says the giant. "Yes,
but it is not here I would wish it to be, though it happens to be here
by mishap,"
says the king's son. "What's
the reward for putting it back in the bundle as it was before?" "What's
the reward you would ask?" says the king's son. "That
you will give me the first son you have when he is seven years of age,"
says
the giant. "If
I have a son you shall have him," said the king's son. In a
twinkling
the giant put each garden, and orchard, and castle in the bundle as
they were before. "Now,"
says the giant, "take your own road, and I will take mine; but mind
your promise,
and if you forget I will remember." The king's
son took to the road, and at the end of a few days he reached the place
he was fondest
of. He loosed the bundle, and the castle was just as it was before. And
when he
opened the castle door he sees the handsomest maiden he ever cast eye
upon. "Advance,
king's son," said the pretty maid; "everything is in order for you, if
you will marry me this very day." "It's
I that am willing," said the king's son. And on the same day they
married. But at
the end of a day and seven years, who should be seen coming to the
castle but the
giant. The king's son was reminded of his promise to the giant, and
till now he
had not told his promise to the queen. "Leave
the matter between me and the giant," says the queen. "Turn
out your son," says the giant; "mind your promise." "You
shall have him," says the king, "when his mother puts him in order for
his journey." The queen
dressed up the cook's son, and she gave him to the giant by the hand.
The giant
went away with him; but he had not gone far when he put a rod in the
hand of the
little laddie. The giant asked him — "If
thy father had that rod what would he do with it?" "If
my father had that rod he would beat the dogs and the cats, so that
they shouldn't
be going near the king's meat," said the little laddie. "Thou'rt
the cook's son," said the giant. He catches him by the two small ankles
and
knocks him against the stone that was beside him. The giant turned back
to the castle
in rage and madness, and he said that if they did not send out the
king's son to
him, the highest stone of the castle would be the lowest. Said the
queen to the king, "We'll try it yet; the butler's son is of the same
age as
our son." She dressed
up the butler's son, and she gives him to the giant by the hand. The
giant had not
gone far when he put the rod in his hand. "If
thy father had that rod," says the giant, "what would he do with it?" "He
would beat the dogs and the cats when they would be coming near the
king's bottles
and glasses." "Thou
art the son of the butler," says the giant and dashed his brains out
too. The
giant returned in a very great rage and anger. The earth shook under
the sole of
his feet, and the castle shook and all that was in it. "OUT
HERE WITH THY SON," says the giant, "or in a twinkling the stone that
is highest in the dwelling will be the lowest." So they had to give the
king's
son to the giant. When they
were gone a little bit from the earth, the giant showed him the rod
that was in
his hand and said: "What would thy father do with this rod if he had
it?" The king's
son said: "My father has a braver rod than that." And the
giant asked him, "Where is thy father when he has that brave rod?" And the
king's son said: "He will be sitting in his kingly chair." Then the
giant understood that he had the right one. The giant
took him to his own house, and he reared him as his own son. On a day
of days when
the giant was from home, the lad heard the sweetest music he ever heard
in a room
at the top of the giant's house. At a glance he saw the finest face he
had ever
seen. She beckoned to him to come a bit nearer to her, and she said her
name was
Auburn Mary but she told him to go this time, but to be sure to be at
the same place
about that dead midnight. And as
he promised he did. The giant's daughter was at his side in a
twinkling, and she
said, "To-morrow you will get the choice of my two sisters to marry;
but say
that you will not take either, but me. My father wants me to marry the
son of the
king of the Green City, but I don't like him." On the morrow the giant
took
out his three daughters, and he said: "Now,
son of the king of Tethertown, thou hast not lost by living with me so
long. Thou
wilt get to wife one of the two eldest of my daughters, and with her
leave to go
home with her the day after the wedding." "If
you will give me this pretty little one," says the king's son, "I will
take you at your word." The giant's
wrath kindled, and he said: "Before thou gett'st her thou must do the
three
things that I ask thee to do." "Say
on," says the king's son. The giant
took him to the byre. "Now,"
says the giant, "a hundred cattle are stabled here, and it has not been
cleansed
for seven years. I am going from home to-day, and if this byre is not
cleaned before
night comes, so clean that a golden apple will run from end to end of
it, not only
thou shalt not get my daughter, but 'tis only a drink of thy fresh,
goodly, beautiful
blood that will quench my thirst this night." He begins
cleaning the byre, but he might just as well to keep baling the great
ocean. After
midday when sweat was blinding him, the giant's youngest daughter came
where he
was, and she said to him: "You
are being punished, king's son." "I
am that," says the king's son. "Come
over," says Auburn Mary, "and lay down your weariness." "I
will do that," says he, "there is but death awaiting me, at any rate."
He sat down near her. He was so tired that he fell asleep beside her.
When he awoke,
the giant's daughter was not to be seen, but the byre was so well
cleaned that a
golden apple would run from end to end of it and raise no stain. In
comes the giant,
and he said: "Hast
thou cleaned the byre, king's son?" "I
have cleaned it," says he. "Somebody
cleaned it," says the giant. "You
did not clean it, at all events," said the king's son. "Well,
well!" says the giant, "since thou wert so active to-day, thou wilt get
to this time to-morrow to thatch this byre with birds' down, from birds
with no
two feathers of one colour." The king's
son was on foot before the sun; he caught up his bow and his quiver of
arrows to
kill the birds. He took to the moors, but if he did, the birds were not
so easy
to take. He was running after them till the sweat was blinding him.
About mid-day
who should come but Auburn Mary. "You
are exhausting yourself, king's son," says she. "I
am," said he. "There
fell but these two blackbirds, and both of one colour." "Come
over and lay down your weariness on this pretty hillock," says the
giant's
daughter. "It's
I am willing," said he. He thought
she would aid him this time, too, and he sat down near her, and he was
not long
there till he fell asleep. When he
awoke, Auburn Mary was gone. He thought he would go back to the house,
and he sees
the byre thatched with feathers. When the giant came home, he said: "Hast
thou thatched the byre, king's son?" "I
thatched it," says he. "Somebody
thatched it," says the giant. "You
did not thatch it," says the king's son. "Yes,
yes!" says the giant. "Now," says the giant, "there is a fir
tree beside that loch down there, and there is a magpie's nest in its
top. The eggs
thou wilt find in the nest. I must have them for my first meal. Not one
must be
burst or broken, and there are five in the nest." Early
in the morning the king's son went where the tree was, and that tree
was not hard
to hit upon. Its match was not in the whole wood. From the foot to the
first branch
was five hundred feet. The king's son was going all round the tree. She
came who
was always bringing help to him. "You
are losing the skin of your hands and feet." "Ach!
I am," says he. "I am no sooner up than down." "This
is no time for stopping," says the giant's daughter. "Now you must kill
me, strip the flesh from my bones, take all those bones apart, and use
them as steps
for climbing the tree. When you are climbing the tree, they will stick
to the glass
as if they had grown out of it; but when you are coming down, and have
put your
foot on each one, they will drop into your hand when you touch them. Be
sure and
stand on each bone, leave none untouched; if you do, it will stay
behind. Put all
my flesh into this clean cloth by the side of the spring at the roots
of the tree.
When you come to the earth, arrange my bones together, put the flesh
over them,
sprinkle it with water from the spring, and I shall be alive before
you. But don't
forget a bone of me on the tree." "How
could I kill you," asked the king's son, "after what you have done for
me?" "If
you won't obey, you and I are done for," said Auburn Mary. "You must
climb
the tree, or we are lost; and to climb the tree you must do as I say."
The
king's son obeyed. He killed Auburn Mary, cut the flesh from her body,
and unjointed
the bones, as she had told him. As he
went up, the king's son put the bones of Auburn Mary's body against the
side of
the tree, using them as steps, till he came under the nest and stood on
the last
bone. Then he
took the eggs, and coming down, put his foot on every bone, then took
it with him,
till he came to the last bone, which was so near the ground that he
failed to touch
it with his foot. He now
placed all the bones of Auburn Mary in order again at the side of the
spring, put
the flesh on them, sprinkled it with water from the spring. She rose up
before him,
and said: "Didn't I tell you not to leave a bone of my body without
stepping
on it? Now I am lame for life! You left my little finger on the tree
without touching
it, and I have but nine fingers." "Now,"
says she, "go home with the eggs quickly, and you will get me to marry
to-night
if you can know me. I and my two sisters will be arrayed in the same
garments, and
made like each other, but look at me when my father says, 'Go to thy
wife, king's
son;' and you will see a hand without a little finger." He gave
the eggs to the giant. "Yes,
yes!" says the giant, "be making ready for your marriage." Then,
indeed, there was a wedding, and it was a wedding! Giants and
gentlemen,
and the son of the king of the Green City was in the midst of them.
They were married,
and the dancing began, that was a dance! The giant's house was shaking
from top
to bottom. But bed
time came, and the giant said, "It is time for thee to go to rest, son
of the
king of Tethertown; choose thy bride to take with thee from amidst
those." She put
out the hand off which the little finger was, and he caught her by the
hand. "Thou
hast aimed well this time too; but there is no knowing but we may meet
thee another
way," said the giant. But to
rest they went. "Now," says she, "sleep not, or else you are a dead
man. We must fly quick, quick, or for certain my father will kill you." Out they
went, and on the blue grey filly in the stable they mounted. "Stop a
while,"
says she, "and I will play a trick to the old hero." She jumped in, and
cut an apple into nine shares, and she put two shares at the head of
the bed, and
two shares at the foot of the bed, and two shares at the door of the
kitchen, and
two shares at the big door, and one outside the house. The giant
awoke and called, "Are you asleep?" "Not
yet," said the apple that was at the head of the bed. At the
end of a while he called again. "Not
yet," said the apple that was at the foot of the bed. A while
after this he called again: "Are your asleep?" "Not
yet," said the apple at the kitchen door. The giant
called again. The apple
that was at the big door answered. "You
are now going far from me," says the giant. "Not
yet," says the apple that was outside the house. "You
are flying," says the giant. The giant jumped on his feet, and to the
bed he
went, but it was cold — empty. "My
own daughter's tricks are trying me," said the giant. "Here's after
them,"
says he. At the
mouth of day, the giant's daughter said that her father's breath was
burning her
back. "Put
your hand, quick," said she, "in the ear of the grey filly, and
whatever
you find in it, throw it behind us." "There
is a twig of sloe tree," said he. "Throw
it behind us," said she. No sooner
did he that, than there were twenty miles of blackthorn wood, so thick
that scarce
a weasel could go through it. The giant
came headlong, and there he is fleecing his head and neck in the thorns. "My
own daughter's tricks are here as before," said the giant; "but if I
had
my own big axe and wood knife here, I would not be long making a way
through this." He went
home for the big axe and the wood knife, and sure he was not long on
his journey,
and he was the boy behind the big axe. He was not long making a way
through the
blackthorn. "I
will leave the axe and the wood knife here till I return," says he. "If
you leave 'em, leave 'em," said a hoodie that was in a tree, "we'll
steal
'em, steal 'em." "If
you will do that," says the giant, "I must take them home." He returned
home and left them at the house. At the
heat of day the giant's daughter felt her father's breath burning her
back. "Put
your finger in the filly's ear, and throw behind whatever you find in
it." He got
a splinter of grey stone, and in a twinkling there were twenty miles,
by breadth
and height, of great grey rock behind them. The giant
came full pelt, but past the rock he could not go. "The
tricks of my own daughter are the hardest things that ever met me,"
says the
giant; "but if I had my lever and my mighty mattock, I would not be
long in
making my way through this rock also." There
was no help for it, but to turn the chase for them; and he was the boy
to split
the stones. He was not long in making a road through the rock. "I
will leave the tools here, and I will return no more." "If
you leave 'em, leave 'em," says the hoodie, "we will steal 'em, steal
'em." "Do
that if you will; there is no time to go back." At the
time of breaking the watch, the giant's daughter said that she felt her
father's
breath burning her back. "Look
in the filly's ear, king's son, or else we are lost." He did
so, and it was a bladder of water that was in her ear this time. He
threw it behind
him and there was a fresh-water loch, twenty miles in length and
breadth, behind
them. The giant
came on, but with the speed he had on him, he was in the middle of the
loch, and
he went under, and he rose no more. On the
next day the young companions were come in sight of his father's house.
"Now,"
says she, "my father is drowned, and he won't trouble us any more; but
before
we go further," says she, "go you to your father's house, and tell that
you have the likes of me; but let neither man nor creature kiss you,
for if you
do, you will not remember that you have ever seen me." Every
one he met gave him welcome and luck, and he charged his father and
mother not to
kiss him; but as mishap was to be, an old greyhound was indoors, and
she knew him,
and jumped up to his mouth, and after that he did not remember the
giant's daughter. She was
sitting at the well's side as he left her, but the king's son was not
coming. In
the mouth of night she climbed up into a tree of oak that was beside
the well, and
she lay in the fork of that tree all night. A shoemaker had a house
near the well,
and about mid-day on the morrow, the shoemaker asked his wife to go for
a drink
for him out of the well. When the shoemaker's wife reached the well,
and when she
saw the shadow of her that was in the tree, thinking it was her own
shadow — and
she never thought till now that she was so handsome — she gave a cast
to the dish
that was in her hand, and it was broken on the ground, and she took
herself to the
house without vessel or water. "Where
is the water, wife?" said the shoemaker. "You
shambling, contemptible old carle, without grace, I have stayed too
long your water
and wood thrall." "I
think, wife, that you have turned crazy. Go you, daughter, quickly, and
fetch a
drink for your father." His daughter
went, and in the same way so it happened to her. She never thought till
now that
she was so lovable, and she took herself home. "Up
with the drink," said her father. "You
home-spun shoe carle, do you think I am fit to be your thrall?" The poor
shoemaker thought that they had taken a turn in their understandings,
and he went
himself to the well. He saw the shadow of the maiden in the well, and
he looked
up to the tree, and he sees the finest woman he ever saw. "Your
seat is wavering, but your face is fair," said the shoemaker. The
shoemaker
understood that this was the shadow that had driven his people mad. The
shoemaker
took her to his house, and he said that he had but a poor bothy, but
that she should
get a share of all that was in it. One day,
the shoemaker had shoes ready, for on that very day the king's son was
to be married.
The shoemaker was going to the castle with the shoes of the young
people, and the
girl said to the shoemaker, "I would like to get a sight of the king's
son
before he marries." "Come
with me," says the shoemaker, "I am well acquainted with the servants
at the castle, and you shall get a sight of the king's son and all the
company." And when
the gentles saw the pretty woman that was here they took her to the
wedding-room,
and they filled for her a glass of wine. When she was going to drink
what is in
it, a flame went up out of the glass, and a golden pigeon and a silver
pigeon sprang
out of it. They were flying about when three grains of barley fell on
the floor.
The silver pigeon sprung, and ate that up. Said the
golden pigeon to him, "If you remembered when I cleared the byre, you
would
not eat that without giving me a share." Again
there fell three other grains of barley, and the silver pigeon sprung,
and ate that
up as before. "If
you remembered when I thatched the byre, you would not eat that without
giving me
my share," says the golden pigeon. Three
other grains fall, and the silver pigeon sprung, and ate that up. "If
you remembered when I harried the magpie's nest, you would not eat that
without
giving me my share," says the golden pigeon; "I lost my little finger
bringing it down, and I want it still." The king's
son minded, and he knew who it was that was before him. "Well,"
said the king's son to the guests at the feast, "when I was a little
younger
than I am now, I lost the key of a casket that I had. I had a new key
made, but
after it was brought to me I found the old one. Now, I'll leave it to
any one here
to tell me what I am to do. Which of the keys should I keep?" "My
advice to you," said one of the guests, "is to keep the old key, for it
fits the lock better and you're more used to it." Then the
king's son stood up and said: "I thank you for a wise advice and an
honest
word. This is my bride the daughter of the giant who saved my life at
the risk of
her own. I'll have her and no other woman." So the
king's son married Auburn Mary and the wedding lasted long and all were
happy. But
all I got was butter on a live coal, porridge in a basket, and they
sent me for
water to the stream, and the paper shoes came to an end. |