As soon as he saw the oat cake he was wide awake again in a moment.Page 209
As soon as he saw the oat cake he was wide awake again in a moment.Page 209
As soon as he saw the oat cake he was wide awake again in a moment.Page 209
the man and his wife had to go back home without it, the man with his bare legs, and the neighbors peeking out at him from behind their window curtains.
By this time it was dark. “I’ll have to hurry if I want to find a place to-night where I can sleep in quiet,” said the oat cake.
So now it rolled along more briskly, and presently it came to a pasture, and it leaped and bounded across it at a great rate, for it was all downhill, and then suddenly—plunk!—it fell down into a fox’s hole.
The fox was at home and half asleep, but as soon as he saw the oat cake, he was wide awake again in a moment. The fox had had nothing to eat all day, and he did not stop to look twice at the oat cake, but bit it in half and swallowed it down in a trice and with no words about it.
So the oat cake slept quiet after all its wanderings, but it might as well have been eaten by the farmer in the first place.
Thereonce lived a man and his wife, named Peter and Kate, and they were so poor that they had scarcely enough bread to put in their mouths. They lived in a wretched, miserable hut, and in front of the hut was a river, and back of it a patch of ground and a gnarled old apple tree.
One night when Peter was sleeping he dreamed a dream, and in this dream a tall old man dressed in gray, and with a long gray beard came to him and said, “Peter, I know that you have had a hard life, and have neither grumbled nor complained, and now I have a mind to help you. Follow down the river until you come to a bridge. On the other side of the river you will see a town. Take up your stand on the bridge and wait there patiently. It may be that nothing will happen the first day, and it may be that nothing will happen the second day either, butif you do not lose courage, but still wait patiently, some time during the third day some one will come to you, and tell you something that will make your fortune for you.”
In the morning, when Peter awoke, he told his dream to Kate, his wife. “It would be a curious thing if I should do as the old man told me and really become rich,” said he.
“Nonsense!” answered his wife. “Dreams are nothing but foolishness. Do you go over to Neighbor Goodkin and see whether he has not some wood to be cut, so you can earn a few pence to buy meal for to-morrow.”
So Peter did as his wife told him, and went over to his neighbor’s and worked there all day, and by evening he had almost forgotten his dream.
But that night, as soon as he fell asleep, the old man appeared before him again. “Why have you not done as I told you, Peter?” said he. “Remember, good luck will not wait forever. To-morrow do you set out for the bridge and town I told you of, and believe, for it is the truth; if you wait there for threedays and make the best of what will then be told you you will become a rich man.”
When Peter awoke the next morning, his first thought was to set out in search of the bridge and town of which the old man had told him, but still his wife dissuaded him.
“Do not be so foolish,” said she. “Sit down and eat your breakfast and be thankful that you have it. You earned a few pence yesterday, and who knows but what you may be lucky enough to earn even more to-day.”
So Peter did not set out on his journey in search of fortune that day either.
But the next night for the third time the old man appeared before him, and now his look was stern and forbidding. “Thou fool!” said he. “Three times have I come to thee, and now I will come no more. Go to the bridge of which I have spoken and listen well to what is there said to thee. Otherwise want and poverty will still be thy portion, even as they have been heretofore.”
With this the old man disappeared, and Peter awoke. And now it was of no use forhis wife to scold and argue. As the old man had commanded so Peter would do. He only stopped to put some food in his stomach and more in his pockets, and off he set, one foot before another.
For a long time Peter journeyed on down the river till he was both footsore and weary, and then he came to a bridge that crossed the stream, and on the other side was a town, and Peter felt almost sure this was the place to which the old man of his dreams had told him to come.
So he took his stand on the fridge and stayed there all day. The passers-by stared at him, and some of them spoke to him, but none of them said to him anything that might, by any chance, lead him on to fortune. All that day he waited on the bridge, and all of the day after, and by the time the third day came, he had eaten all the food he had brought with him except one hard, dry crust of bread. Then he began to wonder whether he were not a simpleton to be loitering there day after day, all because of a dream, when he might, perhaps, be earning a few pennies at home in one way or another.
Now just beyond this bridge there was a tailor’s shop, and the tailor who lived there was a very curious man. Ever since Peter had taken his stand on the bridge the tailor had been peeping out at him, and wondering why he was standing there, and what his business might be; and the longer Peter stayed the more curious the tailor became. He fussed and he fidgeted, and along toward the afternoon of the third day he could bear it no longer, and he put aside his work and went out to the bridge to find out what he could about Peter and what he was doing there.
When he came where Peter was he bade him good-day.
“Good-day,” answered Peter.
“Are you waiting here on the bridge for some one?” asked the tailor.
“I am and I am not,” replied Peter.
“Now what may be the meaning of that?” asked the tailor. “How can you be waiting and still not be waiting all at one and the same time?”
“I am waiting for some one—that is true”; said Peter, “but I know not who he is nor whence he will come, nor, for the matter of that, whether any one will come at all.” And then he related to the tailor his dream, and how he had been told that if he waited on the bridge for three days some one would come along and tell him something that would make him rich for life.
“Why, what a silly fellow you are,” said the tailor. “I, too, have dreamed dreams, but I have too much sense to pay any attention to them. Only last week I dreamed three times that an old man came to me and told me to follow up along the bank of the river until I came to a hut where a man and his wife lived,—the man’s name was Peter, and his wife’s name was Kate. I was to go and dig among the roots of an apple tree back of this house, and there, buried among the roots of the tree, I would find a chest of golden money. That was what I dreamed. But did I go wandering off in search of such a place? No, indeed, I am not such a simpleton. I stick tomy work, and I can manage to keep a warm roof over my head, and have plenty of food to eat, and when I am dressed in my best there is not one of the neighbors that looks half as fine as I do. No, no; go back to where you belong and set to work, my man, and maybe you can earn something better than those miserable rags you are wearing now.”
So said the tailor, and then he went back to his tailor’s bench and his sewing.
But Peter stood and scratched his head. “A man named Peter, and his wife named Kate! And an apple tree behind the house!” said he. “Now it’s a strange thing if a fortune’s been lying there under the roots of the apple tree all this while, and I had to come to this town and this bridge to hear about it!”
So said Peter as he stood there on the bridge. But then, after he had scratched his head and thought a bit longer, he pulled his hat down over his ears and off he set for home. The farther he went, the more of a hurry he was in, and at last, when he came within sightof his house again, he was all out of breath with the haste he had made.
He did not wait to go inside, but he bawled to his wife to fetch him a pick and shovel, and ran around the house to where the apple tree stood.
His wife did not know what had happened to him. She thought he must have lost his wits, but she brought him the pick and shovel, and he began digging around about the roots of the apple tree.
He had not dug for so very long when his pick struck something hard. He flung the pick aside and seized his spade, and presently he uncovered a great chest made of stout oak wood and bound about with iron.
The chest was so heavy that he could not lift it out of the hole himself, and his wife had to help him. The chest was locked, but that mattered little to Peter. He took his pick, and with a few blows he broke the hinges and fastenings, and lifted the lid from its place. At once he gave a loud cry, and fell on his knees beside the chest. He and his wife could scarcebelieve in their good fortune. It was brimming over with golden money, enough to make them rich for life.
They carried the chest into the house, and barred the door, and set about counting the money, and there was so much of it, they were all evening and part of the night counting it.
That was the way good fortune came to Peter, and all by way of a dream.
Now he and his wife built themselves a great house, and had fine food, and coaches, and horses, and handsome clothes, and they feasted the neighbors, and never a poor man came to the door but what they gave him as much food as he could eat and a piece of silver to put in his pocket.
One day Peter put on his finest clothes and made his wife dress herself in her best, and then they stepped into one of their coaches, and Peter bade the coachman drive to the town where he had stood on the bridge and listened to the tailor tell his dream of the chest of money buried under the apple tree.
Peter made the coachman drive up in frontof the tailor’s shop, and when the tailor saw the coach stopping at his door, and the fine people sitting in it, he thought it was some great nobleman and his wife, come perhaps to order a suit of clothes of him.
He came out, bowing and smiling and smirking, and Peter said to him, “Do you remember me?”
“No, your lordship,” answered the tailor, still bowing and smiling, “I have not that honor, your lordship.”
Then Peter told him he was the ragged fellow who had stood out there on the bridge waiting for good luck to come to him; and sure enough it had, for if it had not been for the dream the tailor told him, he would have known nothing about the gold buried under the apple tree and would never have become the rich man he was now.
When the tailor heard this tale, he was ready to tear his hair out, for if he had believed his dream he might have found the gold himself and have kept a share of it.
However, Peter gave him a hundred goldpieces to comfort him and ordered a fine suit. He also promised that after that he would buy all his clothes from the tailor and pay him a good price for them, so the tailor, too, got some good from all the dreaming.
Itwas evening, and the Indians had gathered around their camp fires. Among the youths sat Harka, the tallest and handsomest of them all.
From the lodge his mother called to him, “Harka, go down to the spring in the forest and bring me some water.”
Without moving, Harka answered, “It is dark down in the forest, and I am afraid to go where it is dark.”
Then from all the Indians around there rose a shout of laughter and of jeering. “He is afraid of the dark!” they shouted. “He has said it!” And even the children laughed and jeered at him.
Then Harka arose and cried, “You think I am a coward, but I will prove to you before long that I am as brave as any man in the tribe, either youth or warrior.”
“How will you prove it, Harka?” they mocked at him; and one cried, “Bring us the head of Pahundootah! Then we will believe you.”
Now Pahundootah was a sorcerer, so powerful and wicked that he was the terror of all the villages. Even the warriors feared him, and women and children shuddered at his name.
But in his anger Harka answered rashly, “I will bring you the head of Pahundootah.”
Then again the shouts arose, mocking and jeering at him. None believed him, but they thought him an idle boaster.
But Harka wrapped his blanket about him and went back in silence to his lodge, and the sound of laughter followed him, and his heart was troubled within him. He had said that he would bring them the head of the sorcerer, and now unless he kept his promise he would be ashamed to face again his people and have them taunt him for his boasting.
Early the next morning Harka arose, and without saying anything to any one, he took from a bag that hung in the lodge three magicarrows belonging to his father, and set out upon a journey. He had determined to seek out Pahundootah and either slay him or be slain.
All the morning he traveled on without stopping, and at noon he shot one of the magic arrows high into the air. He carefully noted the direction in which it went and then followed, running swiftly and lightly.
Toward evening he came to where a deer lay dead, with the arrow sticking in it.
Without troubling to withdraw the arrow, Harka cut some slices of venison and cooked and ate.
All night he tended the fire that it might not die down and leave him in darkness, and in the early morning he again set out upon his journey.
At noon he shot his second arrow into the air, and toward evening he found it buried in the heart of an elk. That night he had elk meat for supper, and the next day he went on his way, traveling swiftly, but he forgot the arrow.
He waited till noonday and then shot from his bow his third and last arrow. That evening he came to where a buffalo lay dead, slain by the arrow. Once more he ate and rested by the fire, and at dawning he set out again upon his journey.
When noon came he had no arrow to shoot, for he had left them all behind him.
By evening Harka was very hungry, but there was nothing for him to eat.
Suddenly he saw the light of a fire just ahead of him. He advanced toward it, slowly and cautiously, fearing it might be the encampment of some enemy, but he saw no one except an old woman who was stirring something in a pot that hung over the fire. Never was seen an old woman half so horrible and terrifying as she. Her face was more like that of a skull than of a human being. Her gray hair hung down about her like a mat; her eyes were as red as fire, and her nails so long that she could hardly close her hands. About her neck was a necklace of bones, and about her waist a girdle of scalps.
After looking at her for awhile, Harka was about to steal quietly away when, without looking up, the old woman called to him, “Come nearer to the fire, Harka. Supper is almost ready.”
Harka came forward into the firelight, and the old witch, still without looking up, bade him be seated.
Suddenly the scalps about her waist burst into a shout of laughter, and the hag joined in with them, laughing loudly. Then they fell silent, and the old woman too became quiet, scowling and muttering to herself as she bent over the pot.
Presently she filled a dish with food and brought it to Harka. The youth was hungry, and in spite of the strange look of the old woman, he ate heartily.
When he had finished, she took away the bowl. Again the scalps burst into wild laughter, and the hag laughed with them.
After they were silent, she came over and sat down beside Harka and began talking.
“I know why you have come here, Harka,” she said. “You are in search of Pahundootah. I am the Witch Wokonkatonzooeyepekahaichu and Pahundootah is my bitterest enemy. I myself cannot destroy him, but you may be able to do it with my help. It will be a very dangerous business, and you will have to be careful. Now sleep, and to-morrow I will tell you what you must do in order to destroy the sorcerer.”
Harka lay down beside the fire and slept soundly.
The next morning, when he awoke, the breakfast was ready, and after he had eaten, the old woman went into the lodge and brought out a magic pouch. From this she drew a leaden comb, a golden cup, and a blade of sword grass. She also took from the bag a woman’s dress most beautifully shaped and colored.
“Now listen carefully,” said the witch. “Only as a maiden can you come near Pahundootah. Put on the dress, and then I will comb your hair for you.”
Harka did as the old witch bade him. Hedressed himself in the beautiful garments, and then the old witch took the leaden comb and combed his hair; and as she combed, his hair grew longer and longer until it hung down below his knees in beautiful shining tresses. His eyes also looked larger, and his face finer, so that any one who saw him would have thought him a surpassingly beautiful young maiden.
The old witch looked at him and burst into laughter, and all the scalps laughed with her.
Then she gave Harka the golden goblet and the blade of sword grass. “Put the grass in your girdle,” said she. “With that and that alone can Pahundootah’s head be severed from his shoulders. Now walk forward until you come to a lake with an island in the middle of it. Upon that island live the sorcerer and his people. As soon as you reach the lake you must begin to dip up the water in the golden cup. The sorcerer will see the gleam of it and come in his canoe to capture you. This you must allow him to do, though you must seem frightened and reluctant, as would a timidmaiden. He will take you back to the island with him, and then you must find some way to draw him apart from the others and lull him to sleep. Then you can cut off his head with the blade of grass I have given you and escape before the others find what you have done.”
Harka took the cup and the blade of grass she offered him and strode off through the forest in the direction the witch pointed out to him. Soon he came out from the forest and found himself upon the borders of a wide lake, in the midst of which lay an island.
Harka now walked more slowly and delicately, trying to move with the soft grace of a young and timid maiden.
At the edge of the lake he stooped and dipped the cup into the water. The sunlight striking on the gold was reflected with a dazzling brightness that could be seen even as far as the island.
Scarcely had he lifted the dripping cup from the water when he saw a canoe shoot out from among the reeds of the island and come swiftlytoward the spot where he was standing. In it sat the sorcerer Pahundootah, driving it forward with strong strokes.
As Harka looked at him, his heart beat heavy within him, for the sorcerer was terrible to see, so hideous and cruel and treacherous was his appearance.
But the youth managed to hide his feelings and turned aside with the shy and downcast air of a timid maiden, and moved slowly toward the forest. Charmed by his grace and beauty, Pahundootah followed him. He praised the pretended maiden’s eyes, her lips, her hair, the grace with which she moved, and poured words of love into Harka’s ears, begging him to return with him to his island home and share his lodge, his food, and fire.
Harka pretended to hesitate, but finally he allowed himself to be persuaded, and entering the canoe, he sat down opposite the sorcerer, giving him shy glances and trailing his hand through the water.
Pahundootah was as one bewitched. Hardly could he take his eyes from Harka’s beauty.With strong strokes he drove the canoe through the water and over to the island. Then he took Harka’s hand and led him to where a fire was burning and an old hag was cooking supper. He spread a robe for his love to sit on and threw himself at her feet. The hag who was his mother watched them, muttering. Again and again she looked suspiciously at Harka. At last the supper was cooked. She called Harka to come and carry a bowl of it to the sorcerer. Harka moved toward her softly, trying still to bear himself as a maiden, but the old woman watched him suspiciously, and as he drew nearer she looked deep into his eyes.
“Pahundootah,” she cried, “what magic has bewitched you? Can you not see that this is no maiden, but a brave and daring warrior who has put on this appearance in order to deceive you?”
Pahundootah sprang to his feet and looked at Harka with anger and suspicion, but Harka turned away his head with an offended air. “Your mother has insulted me,” he said. “She is angry because you have brought me hereand because you have spoken to me of love. Now I will go away back to my own tribe where I will be free from insults.”
Slowly he walked away from the fire and down toward the reedy shore of the island.
As Pahundootah watched the grace with which he walked and noted again his long and glossy hair, he could not doubt but that his mother was mistaken, and that this was really a maiden. He followed, begging Harka to turn and smile upon him and return with him to the fire.
“No,” repeated Harka, “your mother has insulted me. It is better I should return to my own people.”
By the side of the lake Harka sat down, and the sorcerer threw himself down beside him, and laid his head in Harka’s lap.
Softly Harka passed his fingers through Pahundootah’s hair. Lulled by his love and the touch of Harka’s fingers, the sorcerer’s eyelids closed, and he sank into slumber. Then softly the lad drew from his girdle the blade of grass the witch had given him and with one stroke severed the head of Pahundootah fromthe body. Swiftly wrapping it in a cloth he had brought for that purpose, he sped to where the canoe lay among the rushes, and stepping into it, he drove it off across the water with silent, powerful strokes.
When he reached the farther shore, he turned and looked back. Already lights were moving about on the island. The old mother, grown suspicious, was hunting for the sorcerer. Then suddenly across the water sounded loud fierce wails and cries. By that, Harka knew they had discovered Pahundootah’s body.
Without waiting longer, he sped back to the camp of the old witch. As she saw him coming, she began to clap her hands, shouting, “You have slain him! You have slain him! Harka has slain the enemy of Wokonkatonzooeyepekahaichu!” and all the scalps that hung about her shouted with her. “Now,” she cried, “you are a great warrior! Now no one can laugh at you or scorn you.”
All that night as Harka lay beside the witch’s fire, he could hear, now louder now fainter, the cries of Pahundootah’s people, and always,
When he reached the farther shore, he turned and looked back.Page 232
When he reached the farther shore, he turned and looked back.Page 232
When he reached the farther shore, he turned and looked back.Page 232
as they sounded louder, the old witch laughed with joy, and the scalps laughed with her.
Early in the morning Harka set out to journey back to his tribe. For three days he journeyed, and then he came within sight of the village. It was toward dusk, and the Indians were gathered once more about their fires. It was the children who saw him first, and they shouted, laughing, “Here comes Harka! Here comes Harka. Hasten, Harka, or the dark may catch you.” And the youths joined them in their laughter. “Have you slain the sorcerer, Harka? Have you his head to show us?”
Then Harka answered proudly, “Look!” and uncovering the head, he held it up before them.
For a moment all were silent, gazing awe-struck. Then a great shout arose, “He has slain him! Harka has slain Pahundootah! He has brought his head to show us!”
Then all gathered around him, youths and warriors, and the women and the children also, and all wondered and hailed him as a hero.And from that time Harka sat no more with those of his own age, but with the wise ones and the warriors, and joined in their councils, and when the old chief died, Harka was chosen chief and ruled his tribe and reared up children and killed many enemies. And always he was known as Harka, the slayer of Pahundootah.
Therewas once a brave Japanese lad who wished to go out into the world and prove his courage in some great adventure. His father and mother did not say no to this. Instead they gave him their blessing, and allowed him to set forth.
For a long time he traveled along, crossing streams and passing through villages, but nowhere did he meet with any adventures.
One evening, as dusk drew on, he found himself in a dark forest, and he did not know which way to turn in order to get out of it. He wandered this way and that, and always the night grew darker and the way rougher, and then suddenly, between the tree trunks, he saw a red light shine out; sometimes it shone brighter and sometimes dimmer, but never with a steady shining.
He went toward the light, and before longhe found himself near an old ruined temple. Within a fire was burning, and the temple was full of demon cats. They were leaping and whirling and dancing around the fire, and as they danced they sang. The song had words and they sang them over and over again, always the same thing.
At first the lad could not make out what the words were, but after he had listened carefully for a while he understood; and this was what they sang:
“To-night we dance, to-night we sing;To-morrow the maiden they will bring.”
“To-night we dance, to-night we sing;To-morrow the maiden they will bring.”
“To-night we dance, to-night we sing;To-morrow the maiden they will bring.”
They would sing this over and over and over, and then suddenly they would cease their bounding and whirling, and would stand still and all cry together,—
“But Schippeitaro must not know!But Schippeitaro must not know!”
“But Schippeitaro must not know!But Schippeitaro must not know!”
“But Schippeitaro must not know!But Schippeitaro must not know!”
The lad stayed there for a long time watching them, and the longer he watched, the more he wondered.
After a while the fire burned low, they bounded less wildly, and their songs were still.Then the fire died out, and soon afterward the lad fell into a deep sleep.
When he awoke the next morning, he was both cold and stiff, and as he rubbed his eyes and looked about him, he thought that all he had seen the night before must have been only a dream, for the temple lay silent and deserted, and there were no signs of the demon cats or their revels, except a heap of burned-out ashes on the temple floor.
The lad arose from where he lay and went on his way wondering. Not long after he came to the edge of the forest and saw before him a village. He entered the village and looked about him, and everything was in mourning and all the people seemed very sad. In front of one of the principal houses a great crowd had gathered, and from within came a sound of weeping and lamenting.
The lad joined the crowd, and looked in through the door of the house. There he saw a maiden dressed as though for a festival, but she was very pale, and tears were running down her face; an old man and an old woman,who seemed to be her father and mother, sat one each side of her, holding her hands, and they also were weeping, with the tears running down their wrinkled faces. Two men were busy over a great chest bound around with iron, and with iron hasps, and every time the old man and woman looked at the chest, they shuddered and wept more bitterly than ever.
This sight made the youth very curious, and he turned to a man beside him and asked why the village was all in mourning, and why the beautiful young girl and her parents were weeping so bitterly.
“Are you a stranger in these parts that you ask such questions?” inquired the man.
“I come from beyond the other side of the forest, from far away,” replied the youth, “and I know nothing of this village or what has happened here.”
“Then I will tell you,” said the man. “Over in the forest yonder there dwells a terrible demon. Every year he requires that a maiden shall be offered up to him as a sacrifice. Manyof our most beautiful maidens have already been sacrificed to him, and to-day it is the turn of the one you see within there, and she is the fairest of them all.”
“But why do not your men go into the forest and try to destroy this demon?” asked the youth.
“It would be useless, for we have been told and know that no mortal arm can prevail against him. He comes, as a cat, to the ruined temple over yonder in the forest, and with him comes a great company of seeming cats—but they also are demons and are his servants.”
When the youth heard this, he remembered the cats he had seen dancing in the temple the night before and the song they had sung; and presently he asked, “Who is Schippeitaro?”
When he asked this, those around who heard him began to laugh. “You speak as though Schippeitaro were a man,” said they. “Schippeitaro is a great dog that belongs to the Prince of this country. The Prince values him highly, for he is as big as a lion and twice asfierce. Never before was his like seen for strength and bigness, nor ever will be again.”
The youth asked where the Prince kept the hound, and as soon as he had learned this, he set off walking very rapidly in the direction the man pointed out to him.
After a while he came to a house with a walled garden back of it. In this house lived the man who had charge of Schippeitaro, and the walled garden was for the dog to roam about in.
The youth knocked at the door, and presently the keeper of the dog opened it and asked him what he wanted.
“I want to borrow your great hound, Schippeitaro, for the night, and I will pay you well for lending him to me,” said the lad.
“That you will not do,” replied the keeper, “for I will not lend him to you. He is the favorite dog of the Prince of this country, and it would be as much as my life is worth to lend him to any one.”
Then the lad began to bargain with him. First he offered the man a third of all his moneyif he might have the dog just until morning; then he offered him the half of all his money, and then he offered him all of it.
That was more than the man could withstand. “Very well”, said he, “you may take the dog; but remember it is only for this one night, and you must bring him back the first thing in the morning, and you need never ask to borrow him again for I shall not lend him to you.”
A collar was then put around Schippeitaro’s neck, and a chain fastened to it, and the lad took the chain in his hand and led the great dog back to the village he had just come from.
When he came to the house where he had seen the maiden, they were just about to put her in the chest, for that was always the way the maidens who were to be sacrificed were carried to the temple.
But the youth bade them stay their hands. “Listen to me,” said he, “for I know whereof I speak. I have seen these demons, and I have a plan by which you may rid yourselves of them forever. Instead of the maiden, do you put Schippeitaro into the chest, carryhim to the temple and leave him there. I myself will accompany you, and after you have gone, I will stay there and watch. Believe me, no harm shall come from this, but instead it will put an end to your having to offer up sacrifices to the demon.”
At first the people would not listen to him, but afterward they agreed to do as he wished, though they were very much frightened. The great hound was put into the chest, the lid was fastened, and he was carried away and placed in the temple instead of the maiden. After that the men hastened back to the village, but the lad hid himself near by to wait and watch for the demons as he had promised.
After a while it grew dark, and then, toward midnight, a dull red fire shone in the temple, and the lad saw that it was full of demon cats whirling and bounding and singing as they had before, but this time there was with them a great fierce black cat, larger than any of them, and he was the king of them all, and he leaped higher and sang louder than any of them. This time their song was of how a maiden had been brought to them as asacrifice, and of what a tender morsel she would be. Then they all shouted together:
“And Schippeitaro does not know!And Schippeitaro does not know!”
“And Schippeitaro does not know!And Schippeitaro does not know!”
“And Schippeitaro does not know!And Schippeitaro does not know!”
Nearer and nearer they came to the chest. Almost they brushed against it as they whirled about it. Then, with a cry, they bounded at it, and tore it open.
At once, out from the box leaped Schippeitaro. The demons shrieked at the sight of him and the great hound rushed at them and tore them. He seized the King Demon by the throat and shook him till the life was quite shaken out of him. Then he flew at the other cats, and when they tried to escape out through the doors or windows, the youth stood there with his sword and drove them back.
Many of the demons did Schippeitaro destroy that night; many of them he scattered over the floor in pieces, and those who escaped fled so far away that they were never seen in that neighborhood again.
But the youth returned to the house of the parents of the maiden and asked them for herhand in marriage, for he had loved her from the first moment he had seen her, because of her beauty, and her gentle air. Gladly her parents agreed to give her to him, and the Prince himself came to the marriage, bringing with him gifts both rich and rare, for he had heard of the bravery and wit the youth had shown in ridding his people of the demons who had distressed them, and he brought Schippeitaro with him as a welcome guest.
After that the youth and his young wife returned to his own home, and there they lived happy forever after, honored and admired by all who knew them.
Therewas once a Princess named Psyche who was so beautiful that no one on earth could compare with her in fairness. When she went abroad the people gathered in crowds to gaze upon her, and children strewed flowers before her and offered her garlands, as though she were a goddess.
Now when Aphrodite, herself the Goddess of Beauty, heard of this, she became very jealous of Psyche, and she called to her Eros, her son who was the God of Love, and bade him cause Psyche to fall in love with the ugliest and wickedest man in all the world.
“In this way she shall be punished for her pride and for her beauty,” said Aphrodite, who was herself most proud and beautiful.
Now Eros was very curious to see this beauty of beauties, and so, in invisible form, he visited the palace of Psyche’s father and wentfrom room to room until he came to where she sat with her two sisters. They were all beautiful, but Psyche so far outshone the others that they seemed pale beside her.
No sooner had Eros looked upon her, than he fell deeply in love with her and determined to make her his bride. He therefore put it into her father’s mind to consult an oracle as to what should be done with Psyche, for already the King was fearful, lest her beauty bring down upon him the anger of the gods.
So the King traveled secretly to the temple of Phoebus at Miletus, and there he consulted the oracle; the oracle told him that Psyche must be taken to the top of a high mountain and there left to be devoured by a monster that the gods would send, and that in this way, and this way alone, could the whole kingdom be saved from destruction.
When the King heard this, his heart was heavy within him, for of all his daughters Psyche was the dearest to him, so he returned home very sorrowful. The two older sisters cared little for his sadness, but Psyche, wholoved him tenderly, was grieved, and she went to him and said, “My father, why are you so sorrowful and downcast?”
For a long time the King would not tell her what it was that troubled him, but she was so urgent in her questions that at last he could keep silence no longer, and he said, “My daughter, thy beauty is so great that it has drawn upon us the anger of the gods, and even Aphrodite herself is jealous of thee. The oracle at Miletus has spoken and has told me that I and thou and thy sisters and all the city with us will be destroyed, unless a certain sacrifice is made.”
Then Psyche asked him what was the sacrifice the gods demanded, and her father answered, “Thou thyself, Psyche, art the sacrifice.”
When Psyche heard that, she cried aloud with terror, but presently she asked her father how she was to be sacrificed, and he told her what else the oracle had said, that she was to be taken out to a high mountain and left there to be devoured by a monster the gods would send.
Then Psyche wept bitterly, but at last she said, “It is better that one should perish than that all should be destroyed together. So let the sacrifice be made, even as the oracle has directed.”
Then, soon afterward, Psyche was made ready; she was dressed as a bride, in shining garments, and hung about with jewels, and at the time set by the oracle, she was taken out and left alone upon the mountain. None might stay to comfort her or to watch with her for the coming of the monster.
But no sooner was she alone than Eros caused her to fall into a deep sleep, and while she slept he carried her away to a secret palace he had prepared for her. All about the palace were gardens, with shining temples and fountains and winding paths and trees that bore all sorts of strange and delicious fruits. The palace itself was very beautiful. The walls were of ivory and cedar, and the roof was of gold. The ceilings were of shining blue, set with precious stones like stars, and the pillars that supported it were also of gold, wrought with shapes offlowers and leaves and birds; and the floor was of stones of beautiful colors set in strange patterns.
It was in this palace that Psyche awakened and, wondering, looked about her.
Suddenly the voices of unseen maidens spoke to her sweetly, bidding her have no fear. “We are your servants, Psyche,” they told her. “This palace, these gardens, and we who are to serve you are the gift of one who loves you. He desires only your happiness, and for you to be his bride.”
Then all fear left Psyche, and she rose up and wandered through the gardens, and from room to room of the palace, and everywhere she saw new beauties. Soft music followed her, and in one place a feast of strange and delicious foods and drinks was served to her, but she saw no one. Everything was done for her by invisible hands.
All day Psyche amused herself by examining the beautiful things about the palace and garden, and then, as night drew on, and she became weary, she laid herself down upon a magnificent couch that had been prepared for her.
Then suddenly, in the darkness, Psyche heard footsteps coming nearer and nearer. Filled with terror, she listened. She feared it was the monster that the gods were to send, and that it was coming now to destroy her. But a voice, softer and sweeter than any she had ever heard, spoke to her out of the darkness, bidding her have no fear.
“I am thy own true lover, Psyche,” said the voice. “It is for thee I prepared this palace and these gardens. Only love me in return, and our happiness will be so great that even the gods themselves can know no greater.”
Then Psyche was filled with joy and with love for the one who spoke to her so tenderly, and who had prepared all this happiness for her.
All night he stayed with her, and they held sweet talk together, but in the early morning, before it was light, he left her, and she knew nothing of how this unknown lover looked, but only that he was wise and kind and tender.
Now every day Psyche wandered throughthe gardens or amused herself in the palace, and feasted and heard sweet music, and was served in every thing by unseen hands, and every night her unknown lover came to her, but always he left before the morning and so she never saw him.
For a long time Psyche was very happy, but after a while she began to think of her father and her sisters, and her heart yearned for them so that she became sad and lonely.
One night she said to her lover, “Am I never again to see my father, nor the sisters who are so dear to me?”
Then the unknown one asked her, “Are you so soon weary of me, Psyche?”
“I am not weary of you,” answered the Princess, “but I long with all my heart to see my sisters that I may know that it is well with them, and that they may know that it is well with me also. If I could see them but once only, then I would be contented.”
Her unknown lover was silent for a while, and then he said. “I love you so dearly that I can refuse you nothing, Psyche. I will bringyour sisters here to visit you, but they may stay with you only for three days, and you must tell them nothing of me, however they may question you, and if they offer you advice, you must not take it. Do not even listen to it. Remember, if you disobey me, great sorrow will come upon you and upon me also.”
Psyche was filled with joy at the thought that she was once more to see her sisters, and eagerly she promised to heed the warnings of her lover and to obey him in all things. But all night Eros (for it was he who was her lover) was very sad and silent, for he feared that this wish of Psyche’s would bring some misfortune on them.
The next night Eros caused Psyche’s sisters to fall into a deep sleep, and while they were sleeping Zephyrus, who governs the winds, lifted them up and carried them to a room in Psyche’s palace and left them there.
In the morning, when the sisters awoke, they were amazed to find themselves in an unknown palace, and their wonder was even greater when Psyche came hastening to greetthem, and when they found the palace and all that was in it and the gardens round about it were hers, and were all the gift of a lover, who had brought her there the day she was left upon the mountain.
Psyche questioned them about their father and all that had happened since she had left them, and after she had heard all there was to tell, she took them through the palace and showed them the treasures, and led them through the gardens, and they heard the music, and were served by unseen hands. The more they saw, the more they wondered, and they became very envious of Psyche. They asked her about the one who had given her all these things, but Psyche turned these questions aside and would not talk with them of her lover.
At the end of three days, when the time came for her sisters to leave her, Psyche bade them choose what they would have of all they had seen in the palace. She loaded them with jewels and treasures, and nothing they asked for was refused them. Then they fell asleep, and in their sleep Zephyrus carried them back againto their father’s castle, to the place whence he had brought them, and the gifts that Psyche had given them he left beside them.
After this Psyche was contented for a time and then once more she began to long to see her sisters, and she begged Eros to bring them to visit her as before.
“Psyche, do not ask me,” said Eros. “I feel that if they come again, some misfortune will surely fall upon us.”
But still Psyche begged and entreated him to bring them to her, until he could refuse no longer. Again he caused the sisters to fall into a deep sleep, and again Zephyrus bore them to the palace where Psyche awaited them.
But this time the sisters brought but little joy with them. All the while they had been away they had been growing more and more envious of Psyche, so that now they could scarcely hide from her their jealousy of her good fortune.
“Why should Psyche have all these things,” said they to each other, “and we have nothing except such gifts as she is pleased to make to us?”
Then they began to talk to her about her husband. “He must be some horrible monster,” said they. “Otherwise why should he only come in darkness and never let you see him? No doubt he is the very monster for whom you were left upon the mountain. Oh, Psyche! Your fate is surely most unhappy in that you are married to such a creature.”
At first Psyche tried not to listen to them, but still they talked and whispered until at last she became frightened, and each night she dreaded the coming of her husband, fearing he was indeed some monster, and that, in the end, he would devour her.
Then came the last night that her sisters were to be with her, and just before they went to rest they called Psyche to their chamber and gave her a lamp and a dagger.
“Dearest sister, we wish, if possible to save you,” said they. “Here are a lamp and a dagger. To-night, when your husband is sleeping, you must rise quietly from his side and take the lamp and look at him. Then if, as we believe, you find he is a monster, drive thisdagger into his heart. So you will rid the world of him and save yourself alive, for unless you do this, he will certainly sometime destroy you.”
Trembling Psyche took the lamp and the dagger and promised to hide them in the little room that was beyond her sleeping chamber and to use the dagger as they directed if she found that what they feared were so. Then she kissed her sisters farewell, for she knew the time had come for them to leave her.
That night Eros came to Psyche as usual, and she let him know nothing of what she and her sisters had planned against him. He was so gentle toward her, and so tender that she could not but love him, and then she remembered her sisters’ warnings and hardened her heart against him.
She waited until he was sleeping, and then she slipped away and took up the lamp in one hand and the dagger in the other. Returning, she held the lamp above him and looked down at him.
What were her joy and awe and wonder tofind it was no monster, but Eros, the God of Love himself who was her husband.
As she still bent above him, entranced by his beauty, one drop of hot oil from the lamp fell upon his shoulder.
Then Eros sprang up from his slumbers and looked at her with grief and indignation.
“What have you done!” he cried. “Oh, unhappy one! Why did you not obey my warnings? Now I must leave you, and grief and sorrow must be your portion. Farewell, unhappy Psyche.”
With these words he vanished from before her, and at the same time the palace and the gardens and all that were in them faded away like the mist of the morning.
Psyche was alone upon a wide and desolate plain. Dawn was breaking, and a cold wind blew about her.
“Eros! Eros!” cried Psyche; but no one answered.
Then Psyche wept aloud in bitter despair; and she rose and wrapped her garments about her against the wind and set off across the plain.
For a long time she journeyed on, but whither she knew not, until at last she came to a wood and heard a sound of piping. She followed the sound and presently came to a place where the god Pan sat, playing upon his pipes, and all about him creatures of the wood, both large and small, had gathered to listen to his music.
Then Psyche cried to him in her grief. “Oh, Pan, you who wander far and near, tell me where is Eros, that I may follow him and find him.”
But Pan answered, “I know not, Psyche. Ask Demeter, the Earth-mother. She is very wise, and if he is on this earth, she is the one who can tell you where to find him.”
So Psyche went on farther and came to where Demeter, the kind Earth-mother, was watching the fields and meadows and the harvesters at their work.
Then Psyche said to her, “Oh, Demeter, you who know all things, tell me where my husband Eros has fled to that I may follow and find him.”
The Earth-mother answered, “He is not onearth, Psyche. When the hot oil fell upon him and burned him, he fled back to Olympus, the home of the gods, for it is there his mother Aphrodite dwells. Now he is with her, for she and she alone can heal the wound that you have caused him.”
Then Psyche wept even more bitterly still, and she said, “I will go to Aphrodite and tell her of my grief and sorrow, and then it may be that she will let me speak with Eros, and that he will forgive me.”
But Demeter replied, “Be careful, Psyche, for Aphrodite hates you with a bitter hatred, and if she could she would gladly destroy you. Eros, too, is angry with you, and you can hardly hope he will forgive you, for you have caused him great sorrow and suffering.”
“Nevertheless,” said Psyche, “I will go to Aphrodite, for unless Eros will forgive me and take me back into his love, I do not care to live.”
So Psyche journeyed on and on until at last she came to Olympus and to the place where Aphrodite had her dwelling. When thegoddess saw Psyche she was glad at heart, for she thought, “Now Psyche has come to me it will be a strange thing if I cannot get her entirely into my power and punish her as she deserves.” But even as she thought thus, she wondered at Psyche’s beauty, for it was very great.
Then Psyche asked if she might speak with Eros, but the goddess answered harshly, “Eros has no wish to see you. You deceived and wounded him so that he fled to me for comfort. But I will set you a task to prove you, and if you can perform it, then perhaps I will speak of you to Eros and plead with him to forgive you; but if you fail, then you shall give yourself over to me, for me to do with you as I please.”
And Psyche answered, “No task is too hard for me if only Eros will forgive me.”
So Aphrodite took her into a room where there was a great heap of every kind of grain, barley and millet and wheat and poppy and beans and many others, and they were all mixed together so that it was difficult to tell one from another.
Then Aphrodite said, “Your task is to separate these seeds one from another. Each kind must be put by itself in a separate heap, and all this must be done before evening.” So saying, Aphrodite turned away and left her.
As Psyche looked at the heap of grain, she knew the task that Aphrodite had set her was one that it was impossible to perform, and she was frightened at the thought of what Aphrodite might do to her if she failed.
Now though Eros was still angry with Psyche, he had no wish to leave her entirely to the cruelty of his mother, so he sent an army of ants to help her. Thousands upon thousands he sent, and the ants seized the grains and dragged them apart, each kind to itself, while Psyche watched and wondered. As if by magic the heap was separated, and each kind of grain was gathered off by itself, and when the task was finished the ants disappeared again; not one of them was left.
Toward evening Aphrodite came to the room where she had left Psyche, and her heart wasfilled with triumph, for she had no doubt but that she would find the task unfinished and would then have the Princess in her power.
But what was her rage and wonder to find the grains separated and lying in different heaps about the room, each kind by itself as she had commanded.
“And now will you ask Eros to forgive me?” asked Psyche timidly.
But Aphrodite answered, “Wait until to-morrow. Then we will talk of it.”
But the next day the goddess set another task for Psyche. She bade her go out to where her sheep were pastured, and fetch her back a bagful of their golden wool.
Now the sheep of Aphrodite were very fierce and terrible, so that no one might approach them without being torn to pieces. This Psyche knew, but she thought, “Better to perish at once than suffer from the wrath of Aphrodite.”
So she took the bag the goddess gave her and set out for the pasture. But on the way she met Pan, and he had pity on her because of her beauty and her sorrow.
“Psyche, do not venture near the pasture,” he warned her. “Wait until evening when the sheep are resting and then turn aside into yonder wood, and gather the wool you will find there in the thickets; for in the heat of the day the sheep take shelter there, and their wool catches on the thorns and briers and is torn from them.”
Gratefully Psyche thanked him for his advice, and she waited until on toward evening, and then stole into the wood and there about her, on thorny branches, glittered the tufts of golden wool the sheep had left behind them. Psyche gathered them, handful after handful, until her bag was full, and then she hastened back with it to Aphrodite.
When the goddess saw that again Psyche had succeeded, her heart was hot within her. But when the Princess asked her, “Will you not yet plead for me with Eros?” the goddess answered, “Wait until to-morrow. It may be that he himself may wish to see you.”
But on the morrow it was a new task that she set for Psyche. She gave her a crystal urn, and bade her take it to the fountain ofOblivion, and there fill it with water, and fetch it back with her.
Now the fountain of Oblivion flows forth black and cold as ice from a deep crevice in a rock at the top of a high mountain, and the rock is so steep that it is impossible for any human being to climb it. Thence the waters pour down through a deep channel, and this channel is guarded on either side by dragons that never sleep.
Psyche took the urn and set forth upon her journey, and as she journeyed on her way she wept, for she knew that no one could go near the stream of Oblivion and live, because of the dragons that guarded it.
But once more Eros had pity on her, and he asked of Zeus, the All-Father, that he would lend him his eagle, that it might take the urn and carry it to the fountain and fill it, and return with it to Psyche.
Zeus, the All-Father did not refuse, and so as Psyche sat resting by the wayside, the eagle swept down upon her, and caught the urn from her hand, and flew away with it.
And now Psyche believed she was indeed lost, for how could she return to Aphrodite and tell her that not only had she failed to fetch the water, but that the crystal urn had been stolen from her also.
But while she stood there, afraid either to return or to go forward, she heard again a great beating of wings, and the eagle returned to her. She saw that he still had the urn, but now it was full of the dark and icy water for which she had been sent.
Then Psyche rejoiced and took the urn from the eagle and hastened back to Aphrodite. When the goddess saw that once more Psyche had fulfilled her bidding, her brow grew black with fury.
“One more task, and one more only will I set you,” said the goddess. “Take this box and journey to the lower regions where Persephone is Queen; beg from her a bit of her beauty and bring it back to me in this box, for the Feast of the Gods is soon to be given, and I wish to adorn myself with it.”
And now Psyche indeed believed herselflost, for never had human being journeyed to those lower regions where Persephone was Queen and returned again to the green earth above. In her despair she thought, “Better that I should perish at once than suffer longer from the anger of Aphrodite,” and she went up to the top of a high tower, intending to throw herself from it and so put an end to her sorrows.
But this tower was an enchanted place, and when she had climbed to the top of it, a voice spoke to her and bade her take courage.
“It is possible to do as Aphrodite has commanded and still live,” said the voice. “Only listen carefully and do in all things as thou shalt now be directed, and thou mayest win for her the beauty she asks.”
The voice then told her she must go to the city of Achaia. Near to it was a mountain; in this mountain was a gap, narrow and dark, and from this gap a pathway led down to the lower regions where Persephone was Queen. It was this path that Psyche must follow.
“But take with thee in thy mouth two pieces of silver money,” said the voice, “and in eachhand a piece of barley bread soaked in honey, for these thou wilt need if thou wouldst reach the palace of Persephone in safety.” The voice also told her that after she had followed the path for a short distance, she would meet an old man driving a lame ass loaded with wood. This old man would beg and beseech her to help him, but she must pay no heed, but pass on in silence, for it was Aphrodite who would send him there to tempt her to give up either the bread or money.
Soon after she would come to the great black river Styx, and there she would find the boatman Charon waiting. He it is who ferries the souls of the dead across the water. After she had entered the boat she was to allow Charon to take from her lips one of the two pieces of money in payment for ferrying her over. As she crossed a face would rise above the water and beg her for the other piece of money, but still she must keep silence and pay no heed to any entreaties, for this face also was a snare set for her by Aphrodite, to make her give up the other piece of money.
After she had crossed the river, she would see before her the palace of Persephone, and at the gate the fierce three-headed dog Cerberus, who stands ever guarding it against those who would enter. To him she must give a piece of the bread, still without speaking, and then he would allow her to pass by him.
She would then be brought before Persephone, but here, also, would danger await her. A feast would be set before her, and she would be urged to eat, but no crumb or drop must pass her lips, for whosoever eats or drinks with Persephone may never again return from her palace to the green world of sunshine above. But if she were steadfast and neither ate nor drank, nor spoke one word, Persephone would give her in the box the beauty that Aphrodite desired. Then on her return she must give the second piece of bread to Cerberus, that he might let her pass, and to Charon the other piece of money, that he might ferry her over in safety.
“But oh, Psyche, open not the box, nor look within it,” counseled the voice, “for ifthou shouldst raise the lid, then all thy labors will have been in vain, and the wrath of Aphrodite will surely overtake thee.”
Until the voice was silent, Psyche stood and listened, and all that was said she stored away in her heart and remembered; and when it was still she came down at once from the tower and set out for the city of Achaia.
Long and rough was the journey, but at last she came to the city, and there she procured for herself the two pieces of silver money and the barley bread soaked with honey. With these she set out for the mountain that lay over beyond the city. There she found the gap of which the voice had told her, and she followed the path that led down from it, and always away from the green and sunlit world above her and toward the darker world of the lower regions where Persephone reigns.
Before she had gone far, she met the old man driving the ass, even as the voice had warned her, and he looked so poor and miserable, and begged so piteously for help, that Psyche’s heart melted within her, and she longed to give himeither bread or money, but she remembered the voice and its warnings and passed by him without speaking.
Soon she came to the river, and saw the boat lying there, and the dark boatman Charon. She stepped into the boat, and he took from her lips one of the pieces of silver. In silence he rowed her out upon the river.
Then up through the water rose a face, and two hands were stretched out to her; and it seemed to Psyche the face was the face of her father. He begged and pleaded with her to give him the other piece of money, that Charon might row him also across the water.
Then it seemed to Psyche that it would break her heart to refuse him, but again she remembered the voice that had warned her, and she knew that the face and the hands were only an appearance caused by Aphrodite, and that it was sent there to tempt her so that she would give up her money and never be able to return from those lower regions. So she kept silence, and the face and hands sank back under the water out of her sight.