Latin American Folktales (7 page)

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Authors: John Bierhorst

Tags: #Fiction

5. Antuco’s Luck

If you ask to hear it you’ll listen and learn it, and any who can’t will have to drink tea; for sleepy wits it’s a mother’s remedy.

There was an orphan boy, his name was Antuco, though country people called him the Little Blade, since he always liked to be sharply dressed. And this Antuco was a cowherd at a ranch in the mountains. His foreman was an old tippler they called Master Anselmo.

One day the overseer said to Anselmo, “Cut out the drinking or I’ll replace you with somebody younger.” Master Anselmo immediately thought, “Antuco!” who was a great favorite of the overseer, very reliable, and never touched a drop. So from then on the old foreman took a dislike to Antuco and tried to get him fired.

One night a cow was missing from the paddock, and the foreman told everybody Antuco was in partnership with the thief. Antuco denied it, but no matter; he was sent away from the ranch without his pay, and the overseer threatened to call the law against him if he didn’t leave immediately.

So he bundled up what few clothes he had, and without a cent in his pocket he headed for Santiago to join the army, because without a recommendation how could he get a job at another ranch? Since he had never been to Santiago and wasn’t sure which road to take, he lost time getting started. Before he knew it, it was dark.

He took shelter at an abandoned farm, picked up a few sticks to make a fire, and ate some bread. Then he wrapped himself in his blanket and fell asleep. He had a strange dream: an old woman was sitting there, warming herself by the fire. When he asked her who she was, she said, “I’m your luck.”

“If you’re my luck, how could you let me suffer for so long without helping me?”

“Because I’ve been lying asleep at this little farm where you were born, and to wake up I had to have the warmth of a fire only you could light. Now I won’t sleep anymore, and I’ll help you whenever you need me. You’re going to be rich, and you’ll make your mark on the world.”

“How could I be rich when I don’t have a pittance in my pocket?”

“You’ll have the answer from the first Christian you meet on the road, if you don’t fail to do him a favor.” With these words the old woman vanished, and Antuco slept on.

At daybreak he set out again for Santiago. After walking awhile he came to a crossroads. Just then a man came by on horseback, and Antuco asked for directions. The man said, “It’s the road on the right.” Then he invited Antuco to ride behind him on his horse, since he was taking the same road himself.

As they went along, Antuco explained that he was going to Santiago to be a soldier, and the man said he had left home the day before and was just coming back from a distant ranch where he’d gone to get his brother-in-law. “And what bad luck! My wife’s had a baby, and today there’s a priest coming to our ranch to bless the new warehouse. So we thought we’d have the baptism at the same time. My brother-in-law and my wife’s old aunt were supposed to be the godparents. But it turns out my brother-in-law is in bed with an injury. So what do we do now? It’s a rough crowd at our place, and my wife wouldn’t have any of them for a godfather. Are you in a hurry to get to Santiago? Would you mind being godfather to my little son? I’m sure my wife would be glad to have you as our compadre.”

Antuco agreed to stay over until the next day, and when they got to the house he was introduced to the wife. Then the husband explained about the brother-in-law. Mena, for that was the woman’s name, took a liking to Antuco and thanked him from the bottom of her heart.

“Don’t mention it,” said Antuco. “It’s an honor to be godfather to your little son and compadre to such a fine woman as yourself.”

The priest arrived and the baptism was performed. Then everybody sat down for chicken stew and some deep draughts of chicha, drinking to the health of the new baby.

During the meal Antuco told his dream of the night before and said with a laugh that it had come true, since already he had been asked to do a favor.

“Bah!” said Mena. “Such silliness! If dreams came true my husband would have found a pile of gold coins and precious stones by now.”

“Is that so!” said Antuco.

“Oh yes,” said the husband. “Just think! For three days I dreamed every night that a genie came to me and told me there was a spur on the side of the mountain where I’d find a dead hawthorn with three branches in the form of a cross, and buried at the foot of this tree would be a ball of red yarn. And if I’d tie the yarn to the tree and throw the ball over my shoulder it would lead me to an underground passage where I’d find a chest full of gold and jewels. Imagine, compadre! Where in the world would you find this famous hawthorn? Mena is right. It’s silliness.”

Antuco sat listening. He knew exactly the place in the mountains where there was a hawthorn shaped like a cross. And what had the old woman promised him? He made up his mind to leave as soon as possible. No need to explain to the compadres. They would only make fun of him. He simply told them he had decided not to join the military after all and would be looking for work at another ranch, and it would be better for him to start that afternoon instead of spending the night. He asked to borrow their horse. “I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

Then he left the house and rode full speed toward the spot in the mountains where the hawthorn grew.

It was night when he got there. But the moon was shining and he had no trouble finding the tree. He hitched the horse to a boulder and unsheathed his knife, then he began to dig. He lifted out a piece of leather. Wrapped inside it was a ball of red yarn that looked as if it had been soaked in blood. He tied the yarn to the tree, just as his compadre had said, and gave the ball a toss. As it bounced and rolled, he ran after it until it stopped beside three stones.

He picked up the ball, which was still quite hefty, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he began to pull at the stones. As he moved the first stone he heard rumbling inside the earth. He moved the second, and the ground shook. Then he moved the third, and a genie rose up surrounded by flames. The genie sprang toward him, nearly scaring him out of his wits, and to defend himself he threw the first thing that came to hand, which was nothing more than the ball of yarn.

The genie fell to the ground as if he had been hit with a hammer, and in that moment Antuco knew the yarn had power. As he was about to tie him up, the genie said, “Little master, don’t tie me with that yarn. Let me be your servant. I am the guardian of the treasure, which I must hand over to the owner of the ball of yarn.”

“Then get up,” said Antuco, “and take me to the treasure.”

The genie stood up. The two of them walked down a staircase into the earth, and there was a chest full of jewels and gold pieces. Antuco started to fill his pockets, but the genie said, “Little master, don’t exert yourself. I’ll carry the chest wherever you want it. As long as you hold the red yarn, I am your servant. Whatever you wish, command me.”

“I command that we be transported to a palace in Santiago. And I command that this horse be returned to my compadres with a bag full of gold.” In that instant Antuco and the genie were in a palace on the Alameda in Santiago. Such furnishings you’ve never seen, and in one of the bedrooms Antuco found a wardrobe fit for a lord. He shook a little bell and servants brought chocolate.

Meanwhile the genie put the treasure chest in a closet next to the bedroom and sat down on top of it to keep it safe.

Antuco, with his coaches and his horses, went out every day to take the air and began living the life of a prince. One day on the Alameda he passed his compadres. They too were dressed in style, and their baby was in the arms of a servant. Without making himself known, he followed them until they stopped and entered a fine house. That way he knew they’d received the bag of gold, and it made him glad.

Not long after that, he decided to travel. He wanted to see England and Paris France. He took out the ball of yarn and ordered a ship furnished with all the luxuries, so he could sail to Europe. And the next thing he knew, word came from Valparaiso that the ship was ready. Antuco went on board with the genie and the treasure chest, and after a few days they docked at Paris. Antuco had already sent a telegram to the authorities, letting them know a Chilean prince was about to arrive. So the king had his ministers waiting at the harbor with a gilded carriage.

When the ship dropped anchor, Antuco got off and started looking for a hotel. But the ministers said, “No, get in the carriage. If you don’t stay at the palace the king will be offended.” So Antuco had no choice but to say, “All right,” provided the genie could come too. The ministers said, “Fine.” But the genie said “No!” He would have to go on foot to carry the treasure. Everyone marveled at the way he handled the chest. Four men couldn’t have lifted it.

That night at a banquet in his honor Antuco presented the queen with a crown of diamonds. He gave the king a sword all worked in gold, and the king’s daughter got a pearl necklace with a brooch to match. Ask yourself whether such gifts were appreciated!

Now, the princess was engaged to the son of the king of England, but, to tell the truth, she didn’t care for him. And once she’d seen Antuco, who cut such a bold figure, she started liking the English prince even less. So she whispered to her mother, who whispered to the king, and all three decided this prince from Chile would make the better husband.

When England heard about it, war was declared on France, and English ships set sail at once. Antuco was made admiral of the French fleet. With the genie at his side and the ball of yarn in his hand he gave the order for the red yarn to encircle the enemy. The genie drew the yarn tight, capturing the entire English navy. The prisoners were brought to Paris in chains, including the former fiancé of the princess, who had to pay a ransom before being allowed to return to England.

So Antuco married the princess, and on the day of the wedding he poured chicha for the people of France and drank to their health. When it was his turn to sign the marriage contract, he picked up the pen and wrote his name: Antuco of Chile, Prince of the Hawthorn.

The wind blows my tale out the door
And takes it to the farthest shore.
May it bring back a hundred more.

Chile
/ Juana
González

6. Don Dinero and Doña Fortuna

Don Dinero and Doña Fortuna were having an argument. Don Dinero pressed his claim, “My money’s the answer. Without it there’s nothing.” Doña Fortuna shook her head. “Without good fortune your money brings nothing but trouble. It’s my luck that’s the answer. Watch, I’ll prove it.”

Just then a poor man appeared and stood before Doña Fortuna. She asked him, “And how is your life?” He said, “Life? What life? I’m tired of working, and all they give me is four reales.”

She filled his knapsack with money and said, “Now, see if this helps. Come back in a while and tell me how things are going.”

The man threw the knapsack on his back and went off. On the way home he passed through a forest. He started to have thoughts, “Who does Doña Fortuna think she is? Why should I go back to her? With a sack full of money I don’t need anyone.”

He walked on. Then wouldn’t you know, the knapsack got tangled in a vine. The vine pulled down a wasps’ nest, and the wasps stung him. He ran out of the woods as fast as he could, but when he reached the cleared fields, he discovered the knapsack had fallen off somewhere. He went back but couldn’t find it. Something he didn’t know: the wasps were thieves in disguise.

He returned sadly to the lady and told her what had happened. She said, “Don’t worry about losing the money. Just go home.”

The man had a neighbor who was better off than he was, thanks to Doña Fortuna, who took good care of him. After the poor man had left, the lady sent this neighbor a basket of bananas. Hidden under the bananas was the poor man’s knapsack with all the money. Not realizing the money was there, and knowing that his neighbor was in need, the good man told the messenger to take the bananas to his friend. “He is worse off than I am,” he said.

The poor man was pleased with the gift. And when he took out the bananas, there was the knapsack. He was amazed. He hid the money and said nothing to his family. He ran to Doña Fortuna. “Now I know there’s a God. And you! You knew the truth. Without luck, there can’t be money.”

The lady looked at him kindly. “Since you are repentant, I am going to tell you something. Find yourself a piece of land, whatever it costs, and offer to buy it. When you’ve made a deal, come to me for the purchase price.”

The man went to see a landowner who owned a finca worth fifteen thousand pesos. The owner said to him, “If you bring me the money this afternoon, I’ll give you my land for five thousand.” He only said it to mock the poor man. But the poor man said, “It’s a deal.” And in no time at all the man who had been poor became rich.

Don Dinero turned to Doña Fortuna and said, “That man was so poor, now he’s so rich!”

“Yes,” said Doña Fortuna, “but it was only to prove that without my good fortune your money is nothing.”

Dominican
Republic
/ José
Guzmán
Ribera

7. Mistress Lucía

Very well then. Here was a king who wished to marry the most beautiful woman in the world, and with that in mind he left his kingdom and took to the road. He looked everywhere and tried all the different countries. But although he was shown the prettiest young women, he was quick to see their faults and kept putting off a decision. At last, tired of the traveling and the disappointments, he decided to go home and forget the whole matter.

After he had been back awhile, it happened that a peddler arrived in the kingdom selling picture postcards and all kinds of portraits. Down the street he came, wheeling his cart with the little portraits arranged under an open umbrella. And who but the king should be on hand to hear his cry:

“Get your portraits! Portraits here! Pretty faces ready to go, some not so pretty, and some so-so. Portraits! Get your portraits!”

The king called the man over, took a look at the portraits, and saw one that pleased him. The longer he looked at it, the more he liked it. Unable to take his eyes off it, he asked who the young woman was and where she lived.

“Sacred and Royal Majesty,” said the peddler, “she whom you admire is the mistress Lucía, who lives in the town of La Cañada. I must tell you, she’s an orphan, whose brother Juan watches over her closely. In fact he lets her come out on her balcony only one day a year. I myself have never seen her, but those who have spend the entire year waiting for the day to come round again.”

Hearing this, and already smitten by the portrait, the king suffered an attack of lovesickness and had to retire to his chambers, where he immediately dispatched messengers to find the young man named Juan and to ask him for the hand of his sister Lucía.

When Juan had been brought to the palace and had heard the king’s proposal, he said he had never felt so honored. He would be pleased to allow the marriage. But first he would have to have a private audience with the king. The king drew him aside.

“Majesty,” whispered the young man, “I must tell you this not because she’s my sister, but because it’s the honest truth. Beyond mere beauty she has three charms, and no one knows about them but me, and now you: when she brushes her hair, pearls fall to the ground; when she washes her hands, flowers drop from her fingers; and whenever she cries, it rains.”

The king, who had never heard such marvels, was now more impatient than before, if that is possible. He ordered a coach to be outfitted and sent Juan with an escort to bring back Lucía at once, while he himself made arrangements for the wedding.

And now we will leave this king and turn to the mistress Lucía, shut up in her house and worrying her head over why in the world her brother had been summoned to the palace. She was torturing herself with first one idea and then another when Juan arrived and gave her the news that the king had decided to marry her.

Lucía, who was an obedient girl, made no objection to her brother’s plans and even began packing her things. But she did have one requirement: she must be allowed to bring her pet parakeet and her pet mockingbird. And for the occasion she prettied up each of the two cages with a bonnet of ribbons. While she busied herself with this work, one of her servant girls said to her, “Mistress Lucía, you should bring me with you to clean the cages.”

“Why not? Go ask your mother for permission.”

The girl returned with her mother and said, “I can go if my mother comes too. And she’ll do your laundry, just as always.”

“Very well, I’ll ask Juan, and if he says yes, you can both come.”

Juan thought, “What could be better?” This way his sister would not be homesick. Besides, there was a brush fire just at that moment and the neighbors needed Juan to help put it out. So he had no choice but to entrust Lucía to the maidservant and her mother. No doubt she’d be perfectly safe. And of course he didn’t want to keep the king waiting.

Up went the birdcages onto the luggage rack of the carriage. The two servants settled themselves comfortably. And Juan said good-bye to his sister, giving her many good counsels along with his blessing. Her carriage now ready, Lucía fluttered her handkerchief, saying:

Good-bye, dear Juan, who mothered and fathered me.
Good-bye, dear chapel, where I said my prayers.
Good-bye, dear pebbles, that I used to play with.
Good-bye, dear brook, where I used to bathe.

“Hush,” said Juan. “You’re making me weak.” With that the carriage rolled off, Lucía started to cry, and the heavens, need it be said, opened up and poured.

Well, they hadn’t gone far when they came to a deep woods where berries were growing. The old servant woman called out, “Look here! What should it be but strawberries! Mistress Lucía, why don’t we stop and pick these for the king, so we don’t come empty-handed.”

“Very well,” said Lucía. She ordered the coachman to stop, and as the three of them were jumping down, the parakeet caught Lucía’s eye and said, “Mama Lucía, bring me too.” And Lucía, who could never say no to anyone, took the cage off the roof and tied it behind her back.

They had just begun picking the strawberries when the old woman said, “Mistress Lucía, look! They’re plumper over that way,” and she ran farther into the forest. “Oh, darling! Look! They’re fresher over that way, and more fragrant!” But in her heart she had a deeper plan. As soon as they were far enough from the carriage to be out of sight, the old servant woman took hold of Lucía, wrenched her arms, and slapped her all over. She pulled off Lucía’s outfit and put it on her own daughter. Leaving Lucía with the parakeet and the daughter’s clothes, the two servants ran back to the carriage and shouted to the coachman, “To the palace and hurry!”

When they arrived, the king was waiting with his entire court. At a glance he could tell that his bride-to-be was no rarity. She didn’t even look like the portrait. He’d been tricked. But what are mere appearances? He consoled himself with the thought of the young woman’s three charms. Anyway, since the king’s word is for keeps, as people say, he had no choice but to go ahead with the wedding.

As the nuptials drew to a close, the king ordered his guards to throw open the doors to a balcony that overlooked the main square. All the king’s subjects were to gather at once to witness a spectacle never before seen in the world. The queen would display her three charms.

The square filled up in no time. The king and his court arranged themselves on the balcony. But can you imagine? When the moment arrived for the maidservant to brush her hair, what fell out but lice? She washed her hands, and nothing came off but grime. And when she started to cry, the clouds flew away and hid behind the hills.

The king was humiliated. He lashed out at the queen. When she told him she had no idea what he was talking about, he began to suspect Don Juan of treachery. He summoned him to the palace for questioning.

At this the alert-minded queen pleaded a migraine and dotted her temples with paper discs soaked in oil of
alacrán.
No one was to disturb her, and all for the purpose of avoiding Juan, who would naturally recognize her.

On arriving at the palace, Juan had to be told that his sister could not see him, and when the king charged him with the crime of fraud he had no defense. After the king had pronounced him guilty, the ministers in council sentenced him to death.

The trial was held on the balcony, and the execution and burial took place in the commons just below. The mockingbird, whose cage happened to hang on the balcony, saw it all.

And now we must leave the palace and turn to Lucía. The poor dear, she’d been left alone in the woods without the slightest idea where to go. What’s more, it was getting dark, and the farther she walked the deeper the forest. Worn out, she sank under a pine tree, ready to spend the night as best she could, when the parakeet said,

Dear mama Lucía
Step it, stretch it!

And this gave her a second wind. Suddenly there in front of her was the edge of the woods and in the distance a light.

Dear mama Lucía,
Step it, stretch it!

And before she knew it she’d arrived at the hut of a woodcutter and his family. Such beauty the poor little family had never seen. The terrified father cried out, “In God’s name, speak! Are you of this life or the next?”

“Flesh and blood, but lost in the woods,” came the simple reply, and moved by pity they took her in. The next morning she combed a few pearls from her hair and gave them to the woodcutter’s wife to sell in town, wherever that might be. Believe it or not, the nearest town was the king’s royal seat, and when the wife returned from her errand she brought the news that the king was in need of a seamstress.

Following the wife’s directions and with the parakeet’s cage strapped to her back, Lucía set off for town. No sooner had she arrived at the palace than a button popped off the king’s shirt. He demanded a seamstress at once.

Lucía presented herself and was led to the king’s balcony. Does it have to be said? The king was entranced. But the first one to speak was the mockingbird:

Mistress Lucía, O Mistress Lucía,
Your brother Don Juan was done in,
And his grave lies in the commons.

Such news! Lucía burst into tears, and the sky answered with a sudden shower.

Yet another interruption. It was the chocolate hour. In came the king’s page with chocolate and muffins on a sterling salver. The king invited Lucía to join him, and when she insisted on first washing her hands, he ordered a basin and a towel of genuine linen with a pictorial border. No sooner had she dipped her hands in the water than the basin was filled with flowers.

The king now knew: this was none other than Lucía. “Tell him,” said the parakeet. “Tell what happened.” And she told her story, strawberries and all, whereupon the king gave orders for the old servant woman and her daughter to be hanged by the neck from the uppermost branches of the tallest tree on the highest hill.

As for Mistress Lucía, she was wed to the king in a ceremony followed by feasting. As soon as it was over, the doors to the balcony were thrown open and word went out that the queen would exhibit her three charms. The people gathered, this time however with rocks in their hands to stone the queen in case they were cheated again. But it was not to be.

Lucía combed her hair with an ivory comb, and so many pearls tumbled forth that the people, forgetting the stones they had brought, scrambled to snap up the pearls.

A silver basin with a plunger and fountain came forth on a tray. When Lucía washed her hands so many flowers spilled over the rail of the balcony that women caught them with their aprons and men with their hats.

So nothing was left but to see it rain. In a time of such happiness who could cry? But all at once the mockingbird sang its song,

Mistress Lucía, O Mistress Lucía,
Your brother Don Juan was done in,
And his grave lies in the commons.

At the first word Lucía began to weep. The heavens opened, and immediately the people ran for cover. They ran and couldn’t stop.

And here we will leave them wearing out the soles of their shoes.

Mexico
/
Bárbara
(surname
not
given)

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