 | SERBIAN STORIES FROM BOSNIA. Sixty folk-tales from exclusively Slavonic sources |  |
SERBIAN STORIES FROM BOSNIA.
The Bosnian stories are not written in the Cyrillic,
but in the Latin character. This indicates that
the Christian inhabitants of Bosnia belong to the Latin
rather than to the Greek Church. The Serbians of the
Kingdom of Serbia would, no doubt, gladly absorb Bosnia,
but it is very doubtful whether the Bosnians would be
equally glad to be absorbed by them. In Bosnia the
landed proprietors are extensively Mahometans, and neither
they nor the Latin Christians would be very willing to place
themselves under the domination of the Orthodox Greek
Church, without much stronger guarantees than the Serbians
of the kingdom, as at present constituted, are likely to be
able or willing to give them.
XLV.—THE BIRDCATCHER.
Near Constantinople there lived a man who knew no other
occupation but that of catching birds; his neighbours called
him the birdcatcher. Some he used to sell, others served
him for food, and thus he maintained himself. One day
he caught a crow, and wanted to let it go, but then he had
nothing to take home. `If I can't catch anything to-day,
I'll take my children the crow, that they may amuse themselves;
intended, and so he did. His wife, on seeing the crow,
said: `What mischief have you brought me? Wring the
worthless thing's neck!' The crow, on hearing that sentence,
besought the birdcatcher to let her go, and promised to be
always at his service. `I will bring birds to you; through
me you will become prosperous.' `Even if you're lying,
it's no great loss,' said the birdcatcher to himself, and set
the crow at liberty.
On the morrow the birdcatcher went out birdcatching as
usual, and the crow kept her word; she brought him two
nightingales; he caught them both, and took them home.
The nightingales were not long with the birdcatcher, for
the grand vizier heard of them, sent for the birdcatcher,
took the two nightingales from him, and placed them in the
new mosque. The nightingales were able to sing sweetly
and agreeably; the people collected in front of the mosque
and listened to their beautiful singing; and the wonder
came to the ears of the emperor. The emperor summoned
the grand vizier, took the birds from him, and inquired
whence he had got them. When the emperor had thought
the matter over, he sent his cavasses, and they summoned
the birdcatcher. `It's no joke to go before the emperor!
I know why he summons me; no half torture will be mine.
I am guilty of nothing, I owe nothing; but the emperor's
will, that's my crime!' said the birdcatcher, and went into
the emperor's presence all pale with fear. `Birdcatcher,
sirrah! are you the catcher of those nightingales which were
at the new mosque.' `Padishah! both father and mother!
where your slipper is, there is my face!—I am.' `Sirrah!'
again said the emperor, `I wish you to find their mother;
doubtless your reward will be forthcoming. But do you
hear? You may be quite sure of it; if you don't, there will
be no head on your shoulders. I'm not joking.' Now the
got home he didn't know; a good two hours afterwards he
came to himself and began to lament. `I'm a fool! I
thought my trade led no-whither, and not to misfortune for
me; but now see! To find the mother of the birds—none
but a fool could imagine it—and to catch her!' To this
lamentation there was neither limit nor end. It was getting
dark, and his wife summoned him to supper; just then the
crow was at the window: `What's this?' the crow asked.
`What are these lamentations? What's the distress?' `Let
me alone; don't add to my torture; I'm done for owing to
you!' said the birdcatcher, and told her all, what it was and
how it was. `That's easy,' answered she; `go to the
emperor to-morrow, and ask for a thousand loads of wheat;
then pile up the corn in one heap, and I will inform the
birds that the emperor gives them a feast; they will all
assemble; their mother, too, will doubtless come; the one
with regard to which I give you a sign is she; bring a cage,
put the two nightingales in it; the mother, seeing her two
young birds, will fly up; let your snare be ready, and then
we shall find and catch her.' As the crow instructed him,
so he did. The emperor gave him the corn; he feasted
the birds, caught the mother of the nightingales, and took
her to the emperor. He received a handsome reward, but
he would gladly have gone without such reward when he
remembered how many tears he had shed. The crow, too,
received a reward, for she persuaded the birdcatcher to give
his wife a good beating, which he did, to the satisfaction
of the crow, in her presence.
Time after time, behold some of the emperor's cavasses!
`Come, the emperor summons you!' sounded from the
door. `A new misfortune! a new sorrow!' thought the
birdcatcher in his heart, and went before the emperor.
`Do you hear, sirrah? Just now I paid you a good recompense,
the mistress of those birds, otherwise, valah! bilah! your
head will be in danger! Do you understand me?' At
these words of the emperor the birdcatcher either could not
or dared not utter a word; he shrugged his shoulders and
went out of his presence. As he went home he talked to
himself weeping: `I see that he is determined to destroy
me, and some devil has put it into his head to torture me
first.' On arriving at home he found his crow at the
window: `Has some misfortune again occurred to you?'
`Don't ask,' replied the birdcatcher; `one still blacker
and more miserable!' and told her all in detail, what it was
and how it was. `Don't trouble your head much about
that,' said the crow. `Be quick; ask the emperor for a
boat full of all manner of wares. Then we will push off
on the deep sea; when people hear that the emperor's agent
is bringing wares, the people will assemble, and that lady is
sure to come; the one on which I perch is she; up anchor
and off with the boat!' This the birdcatcher remembered
well. What he asked of the emperor, that he gave him,
and he pushed the boat over the sea; his bringing wares
for sale went from mouth to mouth; people came and
purchased the wares. At last came the mistress of the
birds also, and began to examine the wares; the crow
perched on her shoulder; the anchor was raised, and in a
short time the birdcatcher brought the boat to under the
emperor's quay. When the birdcatcher brought her before
the emperor, the emperor was astounded. He didn't know
which to admire most, the birdcatcher's cleverness or her
beauty. Her beauty overpowered the emperor's mind; he
rewarded the birdcatcher handsomely, and placed the
sultana in his house. `You are the dearest to me of all,'
said the emperor several times to her; `if I were to banish
all the sultanas, you should never go out of my seraglio.'
The birdcatcher was again in evil case. The new sultana
was in a perpetual state of irritation, for it was poor luck to
be obliged to be affectionate to an elderly longbeard. The
emperor comforted her, and asked her what failed her, when
she had everything in abundance with him. A woman's
revenge is worse than a cat's. Not daring to tell the
emperor the truth, she wanted to revenge herself on the
poor birdcatcher. `Dear Padishah, I had a valuable ring
on my hand when that birdcatcher deluded me into the
boat, and pushed it from the shore. I began to wring my
hands in distress, the ring broke, and one half fell into the
sea, just where it was my hap to be. But, dear sultan, if I
am a little dear to you, send that birdcatcher, let him seek
that half for me, that I may unite it to this one.' `All shall
be done,' said the emperor; and the cavasses soon brought
the birdcatcher. `My son,' said the emperor, `if you do not
intend to lose my love and favour, hearken to me once
more. At the place where you captured that lady, she
broke a ring; it fell into the sea. I know that you can do
so—find her that half; your reward will not fail; otherwise,
you know . . . .' When the poor fellow got home, a fit of
laughter seized him from distress. `I knew that the devil
was teaching him how to torment and torture me before he
put me to death. If hell were to open, all the devils
wouldn't find it!' `What's the matter, friend?' said the
crow. `Till now you were weeping and complaining, and
now in a rage you are laughing.' He told her all—what it
was, and how it was. `Don't fret yourself,' continued the
crow. `Have you given your wife a good thrashing? I
wish you to give her a good hiding again, when we go down
to the sea. And now come, ask the emperor for a thousand
barrels of oil.' The emperor had stores of oil and felt; he
gave him as much as he required. Everybody thought that
he was going to trade with the oil. When he arrived at the
word of command, and they poured out all the oil into the
sea. The sea became violently agitated, the crow darted in,
and found the missing fragment of the ring. The birdcatcher
took the boat back thence under the emperor's
palace, and delivered the ring to the emperor, he passed it
on to the lady, and she fitted it to the other half. Both she
and the emperor were astonished at the birdcatcher's
cleverness, commended him, and sent him home with a
present.
The emperor wished by every means to induce the young
lady to marry him, and to have a formal wedding. She for
a long time declined, but at last said: `If it is your will, I
consent, but only on condition that before our wedding you
destroy that birdcatcher.' The emperor now found himself
between two fires. It was agony to destroy his benefactor,
it was worse agony not to be able to withstand his heart,
and to give up the love of the young lady. Love is eternal,
and is often stronger even than truth. He summoned the
birdcatcher, commended him for having so often fulfilled
his will, and told him that he deserved to sit in the grand
vizier's seat. . . . `But there is nothing else for it, but you
must go home, take leave of your wife, children, and friends,
of whom I will undertake the care; in the afternoon
come; you must of necessity jump into the fire.' He went
home, and the crow came to meet him. He told her all
that was to be done with him in the afternoon, and said to
her: `If you do not help me as usual now, I am done for,
not through my fault, nor through the emperor's, but owing
to you.' The crow informed him what to do, but before he
went, he was to give his wife a thoroughly good beating.
His wife departed this life from so many blows. A fire was
flaming before the great mosque, the Turks came out of the
mosque, the emperor came, the people swarmed round the
fire The birdcatcher came cheerfully before the emperor.
it is your pleasure to burn me to death. I am happy to be
able to be a sacrifice for you. It has occurred to my mind,
I am anxious to have a ride on a good horse: permit me so
to do before I jump into the fire.' The emperor smiled,
and ordered his best horse to be brought for him. He
mounted, and made the horse gallop well; when the horse
sweated, he dismounted, anointed himself with the horse's
foam, remounted, darted up to the fire, then dismounted,
and darted into the fire. The people looked on; five times,
six times did he cross the flames, sprang out of the fire, and
stood before the emperor as a youth of twenty years of age,
sound, young, goodly, and handsome. The people cried:
`Mercy, emperor! He has fulfilled his penalty.' And the
emperor graciously pardoned him. The emperor now
longed to become young and handsome also. He made
the birdcatcher grand vizier, merely that he might tell him
the secret. He said to him: `My lord, it is easy. Take a
good horse, gallop about an hour as I did, dismount when
the horse sweats, anoint yourself with his perspiration, jump
into the fire, and you will come out such as I am.' Friday
dawned; the emperor's best horse was saddled for him;
everybody thought that he was going to the mosque. A fire
was burning furiously in front of the mosque. The people
said: `There's somebody going to jump in again,' and they
were under no delusion. The emperor darted up to the
fire all alone, the people looked on to see what was going to
happen. The emperor dismounted with great speed, and
sprang into the fire. . . . The people crowded to rescue the
emperor—'twas all in vain. The emperor was burned to
death. `He was crazy!' shouted the chief men and soldiers.
They conducted the birdcatcher into the mosque, and girt
him with the emperor's sword. Then the birdcatcher
became emperor, the damsel he selected sultana, and the
crow the chief lady at court.
XLVI.—THE TWO BROTHERS.
There was a man who had a wife but no sons, a female
hound but no puppies, and a mare but no foal. `What in
the world shall I do?' said he to himself. `Come, let me
go away from home to seek my fortune in the world, as I
haven't any at home.' As he thought, so he did, and went
out by himself into the white world as a bee from flower to
flower. One day, when it was about dinner-time, he came
to a spring, took down his knapsack, took out his provisions
for the journey, and began to eat his dinner. Just then a
traveller appeared in front of him, and sat down beside the
spring to rest; he invited him to sit down by him that they
might eat together. When they had inquired after each
other's health and shaken hands, then the second comer
asked the first on what business he was travelling about the
world. He said to him: `I have no luck at home, therefore
I am going from home; my wife has no children, my
hound has no puppies, and my mare has never had a foal;
I am going about the white world as a bee from flower to
flower.' When they had had a good dinner, and got up to
travel further, then the one who had arrived last thanked
the first for his dinner, and offered him an apple, saying:
`Here is this apple for you'—if I am not mistaken it was a
Frederic pippin—`and return home at once; peel the apple
and give the peel to your hound and mare; cut the apple
in two, give half to your wife to eat, and eat the other half
yourself. What has hitherto been unproductive will henceforth
be productive. And as for the two pips which you
will find in the apple, plant them on the top of your house.'
The man thanked him for the apple; they rose up and
parted, the one going onwards and the other back to his
house. He peeled the apple and did everything as the
other had instructed him. As time went on his wife became
mare of two foals, and, moreover, out of the house grew two
apple-trees. While the two brothers were growing up, the
young horses grew up, and the hounds became fit for hunting.
After a short time the father and mother died, and the two
sons, being now left alone like a tree cut down on a hill,
agreed to go out into the world to seek their fortune. Even
so they did: each brother took a horse and a hound, they
cut down the two apple-trees, and made themselves a spear
apiece, and went out into the wide world. I can't tell you
for certain how many days they travelled together; this I
do know, that at the first parting of the road they separated.
Here they saw it written up: `If you go by the upper road
you will not see the world for five years; if you go by the
lower road, you will not see the world for three years.'
Here they parted, one going by the upper and the other by
the lower road. The one that went by the lower road, after
three years of travelling through another world, came to a
lake, beside which there was written on a post: `If you go
in, you will repent it; if you don't go in, you will repent it.'
`If it is so,' thought he to himself, `let me take whatever
God gives,' and swam across the lake. And lo! a wonder!
he, his horse, and his hound were all gilded with gold.
After this he speedily arrived at a very large and spacious
city. He went up to the emperor's palace and inquired for
an inn where he might pass the night. They told him, up
there, yon large tower, that was an inn. In front of this
tower he dismounted; servants came out and welcomed
him, and conducted him into the presence of their master
in the courtyard. But it was not an innkeeper, but the king
of the province himself. The king welcomed and entertained
him handsomely. The next day he began to prepare
to set forth on his journey. The evening before, the king's
only daughter, when she saw him go in front of her apartments,
This she did because such a golden traveller had never
before arrived, and consequently she was unable to close
her eyes the whole night. Her heart thumped, as it were;
and it was fortunate that the summer night was brief, for if
it had been a winter one, she could hardly have waited for
the dawn. It all seemed to her and whirled in her brain as
if the king was calling her to receive a ring and an apple;
the poor thing would fly to the door, but it was shut and
there was nobody at hand. Although the night was a short
one, it seemed to her that three had passed one after another.
When she observed in the morning that the traveller was
getting ready to go, she flew to her father, implored him not
to let that traveller quit his court, but to detain him and to
give her to him in marriage. The king was good-natured,
and could easily be won over by entreaties; what his daughter
begged for, she also obtained. The traveller was detained
and offered marriage with the king's daughter. The traveller
did not hesitate long, kissed the king's hand, presented a
ring to the maiden, and she a handkerchief to him, and thus
they were betrothed. Methinks they did not wait for publication
of banns. Erelong they were wedded; the wedding
feast and festival were very prolonged, but came to an
end in due course. One morning after all this the bridegroom
was looking in somewhat melancholy fashion down on the
country through a window in the tower. His young wife
asked him what ailed him? He told her that he was
longing for a hunt, and she told him to take three servants
and go while the dew was still on the grass. Her husband
would not take a single servant, but mounting his gilded
horse and calling his gilded hound, went down into the
country to hunt. The hound soon found scent, and put up
a stag with gilded horns. The stag began to run straight
for a tower, the hound after him, and the hunter after the
and was going to cut off its head. He had drawn his
sword, when a damsel cried through the window: `Don't
kill my stag, but come upstairs: let us play at draughts for
a wager. If you win, take the stag; if I win, you shall give
me the hound.' He was as ready for this as an old woman
for a scolding match, went up into the tower, and on to the
balcony, staked the hound against the stag, and they began
to play. The hunter was on the point of beating her, when
some damsels began to sing: `A king, a king, I've gained a
king!' He looked round, she altered the position of the
draughtsmen, beat him and took the hound. Again they
began to play a second time, she staking the hound and he
his horse. She cheated him the second time also. The
third time they began to play, she wagered the horse, and
he himself. When the game was nearly over, and he was
already on the point of beating her, the damsels began to
sing this time too, just as they had done the first and second
times. He looked round, she cheated and beat him, took
a cord, bound him, and put him in a dungeon.
The brother, who went by the upper road, came to the
lake, forded it, and came out all golden—himself, his horse,
and his hound. He went for a night's lodging to the king's
tower; the servants came out and welcomed him. His
father-in-law asked him whether he was tired, and whether
he had had any success in hunting; but the king's daughter
paid special attention to him, frequently kissing and embracing
him. He couldn't wonder enough how it was
that everybody recognised him; finally, he felt satisfied that
it was his brother, who was very like him, that had been
there and got married. The king's daughter could not
wonder enough, and it was very distressing to her, that her
newly-married husband was so soon tired of her, for the
more affectionate she was to him, the more did he repulse
look for his brother. The king, his daughter, and all the
courtiers, begged him to take a rest. `Why,' said they to
him, `you only returned yesterday from hunting, and do you
want to go again so soon?' All was in vain; he refused to
take the thirty servants whom they offered him, but went
down into the country by himself. When he was in the
midst of the country, his hound put up a stag, and he after
them on his horse, and drove it up to a tower; he raised his
sword to kill the stag, but a damsel cried through a window:
`Don't meddle with my stag, but come upstairs that we may
have a game at draughts, then let the one that wins take off
the stakes, either you my hound, or I yours.' When he
went into the basement, in it was a hound and a horse—the
hounds and horses recognised each other—and he felt sure
that his brother had fallen into prison there. They began
the game at draughts, and when the damsel saw that he
was going to beat her, some damsels began to sing behind
them: `A king! a king! I've gained a king!' He took no
notice, but kept his eye on the draughtsmen; then the
damsel, like a she-devil, began to make eyes and wink at the
young man. He gave her a flip with his coat behind the
ears: `Play now!' and thus beat her. The second game
they both staked a horse. She couldn't cheat him; he took
both the hound and the horse from her. The third and
last time they played, he staking himself and she herself;
and after giving her a slap in her face for her winking and
making of eyes, he won the third game. He took possession
of her, brought his brother out of the dungeon, and they
went to the town.
Now the brother, who had been in prison, began to think
within himself: `He was yesterday with my wife, and who
knows whether she does not prefer him to me?' He drew
his sword to kill him, but the draught-player defended him.
stepped on to the passage from the tower, his wife threw her
arms round his neck and began to scold him affectionately
for having driven her from him overnight, and conversed so
coldly with her. Then he repented of having so foolishly
suspected his brother, who had, moreover, released him
from prison, and of having wanted to kill him; but his
brother was a considerate person and forgave him. They
kissed each other and were reconciled. He retained his
wife and her kingdom with her, and his brother took the
draught-player and her kingdom with her. And thus they
attained to greater fortune than they could ever have even
hoped for.
| SERBIAN STORIES FROM BOSNIA. Sixty folk-tales from exclusively Slavonic sources | |