Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 06 (20 page)

The men said nothing, but looked at each other. A few minutes
later, seeing that Bobino had fallen asleep, they stole away, and
made with all haste for the town, where the election of a new
ruler was to take place.

A great crowd was assembled in the market-place, waiting for the
hour when an eagle should be let loose from a cage, for it had
been settled that on whose-soever house the eagle alighted, the
owner of that house should become ruler of the town. At last the
hour arrived; the eagle was set free, and all eyes were strained
to see where it would alight. But circling over the heads of the
crowd, it flew straight in the direction of a young man, who was
at that moment entering the town. This was none other than
Bobino, who had awakened soon after his companions had left him,
and had followed in their footsteps. All the people shouted and
proclaimed that he was their future ruler, and he was conducted
by a great crowd to the Governor's house, which was for the
future to be his home. And here he lived happily, and ruled
wisely over the people.

There was once upon a time a sheep-dog whose master was so unkind
that he starved the poor beast, and ill- treated him in the
cruellest manner. At last the dog determined to stand this
ill-usage no longer, and, one day, he ran away from home. As he
was trotting along the road he met a sparrow, who stopped him and
said: 'Brother, why do you look so sad?'

The dog answered: 'I am sad because I am hungry, and have nothing
to eat.'

'If that's all, dear brother,' said the sparrow, 'come to the
town with me, and I'll soon get food for you.'

So they went together to the town, and when they came to a
butcher's shop, the sparrow said to the dog: 'You stand still and
I'll peck down a piece of meat for you.'

First she looked all round to see that no one was watching her,
and then she set to work to peck at a piece of meat that lay on
the edge of a shelf, till at last it fell down. The dog seized it
ravenously, and ran with it to a dark corner where he gobbled it
up in a very few minutes.

When he had finished it, the sparrow said: 'Now come with me to
another shop, and I will get you a second piece, so that your
hunger may be satisfied.' When the dog had finished the second
piece of meat, the sparrow asked him: 'Brother, have you had
enough now?'

'Yes,' replied the dog, 'I've had quite enough meat, but I
haven't had any bread yet.'

The sparrow said: 'You shall have as much bread as you like, only
come with me.' Then she led him to a baker's shop, and pecked so
long at two rolls on a shelf that at last they fell down, and the
dog ate them up.

But still his hunger was not appeased; so the sparrow took him to
another baker's shop, and got some more rolls for him. Then she
asked him: 'Well, brother, are you satisfied?'

'Yes,' he replied; 'and now let us go for a little walk outside
the town.'

So the two went for a stroll into the country; but the day was
very hot, and after they had gone a short distance the dog said:
'I am very tired, and would like to go to sleep.'

'Sleep, then,' said the sparrow, 'and I will keep watch meantime
on the branch of a tree.'

So the dog lay down in the middle of the road, and was soon fast
asleep. While he was sleeping a carter passed by, driving a
waggon drawn by three horses, and laden with two barrels of wine.
The sparrow noticed that the man was not going out of his way to
avoid the dog, but was driving right in the middle of the road
where the poor animal lay; so she called out: 'Carter, take care
what you are about, or I shall make you suffer for it.'

But the carter merely laughed at her words, and, cracking his
whip, he drove his waggon right over the dog, so that the heavy
wheels killed him.

Then the sparrow called out: 'You have caused my brother's death,
and your cruelty will cost you your waggon and horses.'

'Waggon and horses, indeed,' said the carter; 'I'd like to know
how you could rob me of them!'

The sparrow said nothing, but crept under the cover of the waggon
and pecked so long at the bunghole of one of the barrels that at
last she got the cork away, and all the wine ran out without the
carter's noticing it.

But at last he turned round and saw that the bottom of the cart
was wet, and when he examined it, he found that one of the
barrels was quite empty. 'Oh! what an unlucky fellow I am!' he
exclaimed.

'You'll have worse luck still,' said the sparrow, as she perched
on the head of one of the horses and pecked out its eyes.

When the carter saw what had happened, he seized an axe and tried
to hit the sparrow with it, but the little bird flew up into the
air, and the carter only hit the blind horse on the head, so that
it fell down dead. 'Oh! what an unlucky fellow I am!' he
exclaimed again.

'You'll have worse luck yet,' said the sparrow; and when the
carter drove on with his two horses she crept under the covering
again, and pecked away at the cork of the second barrel till she
got it away, and all the wine poured out on to the road.

When the carter perceived this fresh disaster he called out once
more: 'Oh! what an unlucky fellow I am!'

But the sparrow answered: 'Your bad luck is not over yet,' and
flying on to the head of the second horse she pecked out its
eyes.

The carter jumped out of the waggon and seized his axe, with
which he meant to kill the sparrow; but the little bird flew high
into the air, and the blow fell on the poor blind horse instead,
and killed it on the spot. Then the carter exclaimed: 'Oh! what
an unlucky fellow I am!'

'You've not got to the end of your bad luck yet,' sang the
sparrow; and, perching on the head of the third horse, she pecked
out its eyes.

The carter, blind with rage, let his axe fly at the bird; but
once more she escaped the blow, which fell on the only remaining
horse, and killed it. And again the carter called out: 'Oh! what
an unlucky fellow I am!'

'You'll have worse luck yet,' said the sparrow, 'for now I mean
to make your home desolate.'

The carter had to leave his waggon on the road, and he went home
in a towering passion. As soon as he saw his wife, he called out:
'Oh! what bad luck I have had! all my wine is spilt, and my
horses are all three dead.'

'My dear husband,' replied his wife, 'your bad luck pursues you,
for a wicked little sparrow has assembled all the other birds in
the world, and they are in our barn eating everything up.'

The carter went out to the barn where he kept his corn and found
it was just as his wife had said. Thousands and thousands of
birds were eating up the grain, and in the middle of them sat the
little sparrow. When he saw his old enemy, the carter cried out:
'Oh! what an unlucky fellow I am!'

'Not unlucky enough yet,' answered the sparrow; 'for, mark my
words, carter, your cruel conduct will cost you your life;' and
with these words she flew into the air.

The carter was much depressed by the loss of all his worldly
goods, and sat down at the fire plotting vengeance on the
sparrow, while the little bird sat on the window ledge and sang
in mocking tones: 'Yes, carter, your cruel conduct will cost you
your life.'

Then the carter seized his axe and threw it at the sparrow, but
he only broke the window panes, and did not do the bird a bit of
harm. She hopped in through the broken window and, perching on
the mantelpiece, she called out; 'Yes, carter, it will cost you
your life.'

The carter, quite beside himself with rage, flew at the sparrow
again with his axe, but the little creature always eluded his
blows, and he only succeeded in destroying all his furniture. At
last, however, he managed to catch the bird in his hands. Then
his wife called out: 'Shall I wring her neck?'

'Certainly not,' replied her husband, 'that would be far too easy
a death for her; she must die in a far crueller fashion than
that. I will eat her alive;' and he suited the action to his
words. But the sparrow fluttered and struggled inside him till
she got up into the man's mouth, and then she popped out her head
and said: 'Yes, carter, it will cost you your life.'

The carter handed his wife the axe, and said: 'Wife, kill the
bird in my mouth dead.'

The woman struck with all her might, but she missed the bird and
hit the carter right on the top of his head, so that he fell down
dead. But the sparrow escaped out of his mouth and flew away into
the air.

(From the German, Kletke.)

Till his eighteenth birthday the young Neangir lived happily in a
village about forty miles from Constantinople, believing that
Mohammed and Zinebi his wife, who had brought him up, were his
real parents.

Neangir was quite content with his lot, though he was neither
rich nor great, and unlike most young men of his age had no
desire to leave his home. He was therefore completely taken by
surprise when one day Mohammed told him with many sighs that the
time had now come for him to go to Constantinople, and fix on a
profession for himself. The choice would be left to him, but he
would probably prefer either to be a soldier or one of the
doctors learned in the law, who explain the Koran to the ignorant
people. 'You know the holy book nearly by heart,' ended the old
man, 'so that in a very short time you would be fitted to teach
others. But write to us and tell us how you pass your life, and
we, on our side, will promise never to forget you.'

So saying, Mohammed gave Neangir four piastres to start him in
the great city, and obtained leave for him to join a caravan
which was about to set off for Constantinople.

The journey took some days, as caravans go very slowly, but at
last the walls and towers of the capital appeared in the
distance. When the caravan halted the travellers went their
different ways, and Neangir was left, feeling very strange and
rather lonely. He had plenty of courage and made friends very
easily; still, not only was it the first time he had left the
village where he had been brought up, but no one had ever spoken
to him of Constantinople, and he did not so much as know the name
of a single street or of a creature who lived in it.

Wondering what he was to do next, Neangir stood still for a
moment to look about him, when suddenly a pleasant-looking man
came up, and bowing politely, asked if the youth would do him the
honour of staying in his house till he had made some plans for
himself. Neangir, not seeing anything else he could do, accepted
the stranger's offer and followed him home.

They entered a large room, where a girl of about twelve years old
was laying three places at the table.

'Zelida,' said the stranger, 'was I not quite right when I told
you that I should bring back a friend to sup with us?'

'My father,' replied the girl, 'you are always right in what you
say, and what is better still, you never mislead others.' As she
spoke, an old slave placed on the table a dish called pillau,
made of rice and meat, which is a great favourite among people in
the East, and setting down glasses of sherbet before each person,
left the room quietly.

During the meal the host talked a great deal upon all sorts of
subjects; but Neangir did nothing but look at Zelida, as far as
he could without being positively rude.

The girl blushed and grew uncomfortable, and at last turned to
her father. 'The stranger's eyes never wander from me,' she said
in a low and hesitating voice. 'If Hassan should hear of it,
jealousy will make him mad.'

'No, no,' replied the father, 'you are certainly not for this
young man. Did I not tell you before that I intend him for your
sister Argentine. I will at once take measures to fix his heart
upon her,' and he rose and opened a cupboard, from which be took
some fruits and a jug of wine, which he put on the table,
together with a small silver and mother-of-pearl box.

'Taste this wine,' he said to the young man, pouring some into a
glass.

'Give me a little, too,' cried Zelida.

'Certainly not,' answered her father, 'you and Hassan both had as
much as was good for you the other day.'

'Then drink some yourself,' replied she, 'or this young man will
think we mean to poison him.'

'Well, if you wish, I will do so,' said the father; 'this elixir
is not dangerous at my age, as it is at yours.'

When Neangir had emptied his glass, his host opened the
mother-of-pearl box and held it out to him. Neangir was beside
himself with delight at the picture of a young maiden more
beautiful than anything he had ever dreamed of. He stood
speechless before it, while his breast swelled with a feeling
quite new to him.

His two companions watched him with amusement, until at last
Neangir roused himself. 'Explain to me, I pray you,' he said,
'the meaning of these mysteries. Why did you ask me here? Why did
you force me to drink this dangerous liquid which has set fire to
my blood? Why have you shown me this picture which has almost
deprived me of reason?'

'I will answer some of your questions,' replied his host, 'but
all, I may not. The picture that you hold in your hand is that of
Zelida's sister. It has filled your heart with love for her;
therefore, go and seek her. When you find her, you will find
yourself.'

'But where shall I find her?' cried Neangir, kissing the charming
miniature on which his eyes were fixed.

'I am unable to tell you more,' replied his host cautiously.

'But I can' interrupted Zelida eagerly. 'To-morrow you must go to
the Jewish bazaar, and buy a watch from the second shop on the
right hand. And at midnight—'

But what was to happen at midnight Neangir did not hear, for
Zelida's father hastily laid his hand over her mouth, crying:
'Oh, be silent, child! Would you draw down on you by imprudence
the fate of your unhappy sisters?' Hardly had he uttered the
words, when a thick black vapour rose about him, proceeding from
the precious bottle, which his rapid movement had overturned. The
old slave rushed in and shrieked loudly, while Neangir, upset by
this strange adventure, left the house.