Tales and Legends from the Land of the Tzar/The Wonderful Trade

by Edith M. S. Hodgetts

THE WONDERFUL TRADE.

In a certain kingdom there lived an old woman who was almost penniless. She had an only son, whom she wished to apprentice where he would not be required to work, but only eat, sleep, and wear fine clothes. But, unfortunately, such places were scarce, and whenever she told her wishes to others they only laughed at her, saying,—

"You will have to go right round the world first, and then you won't get what you want! No one would be such a fool!"

The old woman was highly indignant, and said she was not going to be done; so after selling all she had, which, needless to say, was very little, she turned to her son and told him to get ready, and they would start off to seek their fortunes.

They travelled from one town to another, but nobody seemed inclined to take the son into such apprenticeship as she wanted, especially without money.

They went through the whole kingdom without any success. At last the old woman, finding that her search was fruitless, decided to turn homewards once more, not in the highest spirits, when suddenly they came upon a man, who, seeing that the old woman looked very sad, asked her the reason.

"How can I be otherwise?" replied she. "I have walked and walked through the whole kingdom with my son, to bind him apprentice to a trade where he need do no work, only eat, drink, sleep, and dress well; but nobody will have him without money."

"Give him to me," said the stranger, "and on this day three years hence you may come and fetch him away. For teaching him I will take nothing; but mind you recognize him again; if you don't, you can come twice more after three years; but if you do not know him then, he must be mine for ever."

The old woman thought this very extraordinary. Was it possible not to know her own child again? However, she was glad that she had at any rate found some one who would take him; she could return to her own country and laugh at the people who had once laughed at her. It was not a very Christian way of looking at things, but, nevertheless, so thought the old woman. In her joy she forgot to ask this stranger who he was and where he lived, but gave him her son and left, to return after three long years to that very spot to claim her boy.

Now this stranger was a sorcerer. All his companions having died, he alone was left with his daughter to perform his magic arts. He kept a school, in which he taught the most wonderful things possible to some dozen young men who boarded with him.

The three years passed away very rapidly, and at last the important day arrived when the old woman was once more to behold her beloved son, and take him home with her. She got up very early, and went to the place where she had first met the stranger. The time approached, and with it the sorcerer.

"Ah, little mother! I see you have not forgotten to fetch your boy."

He gave two loud whistles, and in another moment twelve bees came buzzing round the old woman, who was terribly frightened, and began waving her hands about to keep them off.

"Don't be afraid, little mother," said the sorcerer, laughing, "for your son is among them. I have taught him all kinds of clever things, and if you really want him back you must try and find him."

"Find him, indeed! why, I gave you a boy; and these are only a lot of horrid bees! Why, good man, do you want to make such a fool of me? Don't you think I know the difference between a boy and a bee?"

"These are not bees really, but twelve young men, who, like your son, wished to have the same easy kind of apprenticeship. They fell into my hands, and have been taught all kinds of cunning and wonderful things; one of the things being, that they can change themselves into whatever they wish, whenever they please. Eleven of these are staying with me for ever, because their parents did not succeed in recognizing them, and—"

"I should think not," exclaimed the old woman. "This is the greatest fraud I ever came across, and you ought to be punished for cheating a poor old woman like me."

"Hush! don't speak like that, little mother. I was just going to tell you that your son is the twelfth, and if you don't recognize him he must stay with me like the others."

"But, great heavens, how can I possibly recognize him when they are each and all alike?"

Suddenly one of the bees flew to the old woman's face and began to sting her.

"Get away, you nasty thing, do!" she cried, beating it away from her.

"Well, don't you recognize your son?"

"No, I don't!"

"Very well, then you must come again on this day three years hence. The bee that stung you was your son. However, it is too late now, you must come again."

The old woman burst into tears, and left the place, promising to come again in three years.

When the time came round the old woman once more went to meet the sorcerer.

When he whistled this time, twelve white doves flew round the old woman.

"Try and recognize your son; he is among them," said the sorcerer.

She looked, and looked, but grew no wiser. All the twelve doves sat in a row; all had exactly the same feathers, and how was she to find him? She looked again, and saw one of the doves put its head under its wing; but although she noticed this, nothing crossed her mind.

"No," she said at last, "I do not recognize my son."

"The little dove that had its head under its wing was your son. Now you must come again at the end of another three years, but that will be the last time; if you do not know him then he will be lost to you for ever."

"Old swindler!" muttered the old woman as the sorcerer and the doves disappeared.

The years passed away, and the old woman found herself for the last time at the place where she and the sorcerer first met. This time she determined to keep her eyes open.

The sorcerer whistled again, and twelve little ponies came galloping up and stood in two rows before the old woman.

"Now, then, little mother, which is your son?" asked the sorcerer.

The old woman passed up one row, then down the other, but no sign of any kind did she see. She passed by again, and this time one of the ponies began stamping on the ground.

"This is my son!" she said, stopping in front of the little pony.

"Right for once, little mother; you have recognized him this time!" cried the sorcerer. "But you are not so very clever, you know; if it had not been for your son's stamping in the way he did you would have passed him. However, you may take him home now, and may the Lord bless you both!"

The horse then changed itself into the old woman's son, who had grown wonderfully handsome in those few years.

"How did you get on without me, mother mine?" asked the young fellow, as they walked homewards.

"Very badly, my boy; I have hardly had anything to eat all the time."

"Well, mother, I shall see that you have plenty of everything now. Will a hundred roubles^[1] be enough to start with?"

"A hundred roubles!" cried the old woman. "I never had so much in all my born days; in fact, I never saw so much. Where have you got them?"

"I have not got them yet, but I shall get them for you in a minute. Listen. Do you see those hunters galloping about yonder after a fox? Well, I shall change myself into a hound and catch the fox for them; they will then want to buy me, and ask you how much you want for me. 'A hundred roubles, gentlemen,' you must say. They will, of course, bargain with you, but you must not on any account give me for less. And another thing you must not forget; that is, to be sure and take my collar off before you part with me. The hunters are sure to make a fuss, but no matter; do as I tell you, and all will be right."

As soon as he had finished speaking he changed himself into a beautiful dog, and ran after the fox, which he very soon caught.

The old woman went up to the hunters, who had ridden up to the dog and were now stroking it, wondering whose it was.

"Why do you interrupt our hunting, old woman?" they asked, when they saw her coming up to them.

"Because, gentlemen, it is my dog, and I have come to fetch it away."

"No, old woman, don't take him away; we want to keep him ourselves."

"Very well, gentlemen, if you like to buy him you are welcome."

"How much do you want?"

"A hundred roubles, gentlemen."

"That is rather high, my good woman."

"No, gentlemen, not at all. Look at the dog yourselves; see what a splendid animal it is."

The hunters, after a little bargaining, counted out the money, while the old woman began taking the collar off; but when the hunters saw what she was doing, they would not hear of it.

"But I don't intend selling the collar," said the old woman; "I only sell the dog."

"Nonsense!" cried the hunters; "we must have the collar, too. Who ever thought of buying a dog without a collar? Why, the animal would be sure to get lost."

The old woman, after a great deal of arguing, at last consented, and giving them the dog as well as the collar, took the money, and went away.

Off rode the hunters, when suddenly a fox ran past. They unloosened their dogs and away they went; but the creature was not to be caught so easily.

"Let us try the new hound; he may be able to catch it," said one of the hunters.

They loosened him, too, but the cunning dog had hardly been set free when away he went in exactly the opposite direction to the fox, and when at a safe distance from the hunters he changed himself quickly into his proper shape and overtook the old woman.

"Oh, mother! why on earth did you sell the collar? I warned you not, and if we had not met a fox I should have been lost to you for ever."

Then they began building a new hut for themselves, where they lived for some time without starving; but at last out of the hundred roubles only a hundred kopeks (2s. English) remained.

"My dear son," said the old woman, one day, "I wish we could get a little more money to buy a few things with."

"Very well; how much do you want? Will two hundred roubles be enough for you?"

"Two hundred roubles? why, we could build quite a large house, as well as buy all the things I want."

"Well, then, look here. I will change myself into a beautiful bird, and you must take me to market and sell me for two hundred roubles. But mind, mother, and on no account sell me in a cage, or else I can never come home again."

So saying he changed himself into a bird with such lovely feathers that the like had never been seen. The old woman was greatly astonished, and carried it to market in a pretty little cage, and in a very short time she had quite a crowd round her, who came to admire the beautiful creature, and wanted to buy it; but, unfortunately, the price was too high for them, so they shook their heads, whistled, and went away. The old woman was beginning to think that she would never get rid of it at all, when suddenly, who should turn up but the sorcerer. He knew her at once, and went up to her and began admiring the bird. The old woman did not recognize him, as he was got up to look like somebody else. He asked how much she wanted for the bird. She told him. He did not hesitate a moment, but gave her the money, and was just about to take the cage, when she stopped him.

"I did not sell the cage as well," said she.

After a long argument, the sorcerer and the old woman began quarrelling. But the assembled crowd took the old woman's part, and would not let the sorcerer have the cage, but gave it back to her. The sorcerer, on seeing that he could not do anything, took the bird, and tied it up in his handkerchief and went home.

"Well, daughter," said he, "I have brought back our young man after all, and a nice lot of trouble he gave me."

"Oh! where is he?" she exclaimed.

He untied the handkerchief very carefully; but just as he had opened it, out flew the bird through the open window, and away high up into the air, quite out of sight, leaving the sorcerer stamping about in an awful rage, and his pretty little daughter to lament her loss.

When the old woman returned home from market, she was greatly surprised, as well as overjoyed, at seeing her son seated very comfortably in a chair, waiting for her.

"Thank Heaven," said he, embracing her, "that you did what I told you this time. It would have been awfully unpleasant, for me as well as for you, had you done otherwise, for the man who bought me was no other than the sorcerer. He is trying to get me back to marry his daughter, who seems to have taken a great fancy to me; but as I don't particularly care for the young lady myself, I am by no means anxious to return to him."

Things went on very well for some time. The old woman got all she wanted, and everything was very comfortable in the little hut, till one day she looked out of the window into the little yard at the back, and sighed.

"What is the matter now, mother mine?" asked the son. "Is there anything more that you are in need of?"

"Oh, it's not worth talking about, dear! I was only thinking what a pity it is that such a nice piece of ground as we have at the back here should be so empty. Now, if I had the means, I should buy some horses, cows, pigs, poultry, or something to make it look cheerful; but it's no use my wishing for things when we can't afford to have them."

"I don't know, mother; I think we shall soon be able to get all you want. I told you that I would try and please you in every possible way, and get you everything you like; so take me to the market again, and I shall change myself into a lovely little pony, and you must try and sell me for three hundred roubles; but be careful not to sell me with the bridle."

So off went the old woman once more to market, leading a sweetly pretty, plump little pony. The crowd again surrounded her, admiring the wickedlooking little horse, and began bargaining; but the old woman firmly kept to her price. "Three hundred roubles, and not a kopek less," she had said, and stuck to it.

"How much did you say, little mother?" asked a voice.

It was the sorcerer again.

"Three hundred roubles, and not a kopek less."

"There you are, three hundred roubles, well counted," he cried, throwing the money down before her, while the old woman began taking off the bridle.

"No, no, old woman!" the sorcerer exclaimed, taking the bridle roughly out of her hands. "What next? Where in the wide world did you see a horse sold without a bridle? How do you expect me to take him home?"

And before any one could stop him, he jumped on to the little pony, and galloped off as hard as he could, leaving the old woman wringing her hands, bemoaning her hard fate.

"Oh, my son, my son, my darling son! I have lost you now for ever!"

The people tried to comfort her as best they could, though they themselves were sorely puzzled by her cries of "My son!" and wondered how a pony could be so nearly related to her; but they at last came to the conclusion that the "poor old woman was not quite right in her upper storey," and told her that she had best go home and console herself with a glass or two of vodka, which she could well afford out of the three hundred roubles. But the old woman had recognized the sorcerer as he mounted the pony, and regarded the money he had given her with disgust. What was it to her, if she was never to see her beloved son again?

Meanwhile the sorcerer, thinking that he would pay the "youngster" out for flying out at the window when last he bought him as a bird, rode him about for three whole days and three whole nights without giving the tired horse a moment's rest. He rode over stock and stone, up hill and down dale, until the perspiration poured down his face in streams. He was at length obliged to go home. When he arrived in his garden, he tied the unfortunate animal's head to a tree in such an uncomfortable position that the poor creature could hardly breathe.

"Well," said the sorcerer aloud to himself as he walked into the hut, "I think I have pretty well done for him this time."

"Done for whom, father?" asked his daughter.

"Why, for that young fellow I used to have, whom you took such a fancy to. There he is. Just look at him. Not likely to get away this time, is he?"

The damsel at once ran off into the garden, and on seeing the poor little pony tied up with his head high up in the air, she could not help being sorry for him, and angry with her father for his cruelty.

"Poor thing," she cried, "how my father has tormented you! How cruel of him to have tied you up like this, and without any food, too!"

She untied the horse's head very gently from the tree, and patted him fondly. But the horse loosened himself from her grasp, and, after thanking her, he bounded off into the fields and far away.

The girl was so alarmed that she ran trembling to her father, exclaiming,—

"Forgive me, father, but I loosened the little pony, as I felt so sorry for him, and he has run away."

Hardly had the sorcerer heard these words when he changed himself into a grey wolf, and gave chase. The pony, on hearing some one chasing him, turned himself into a white dove. The sorcerer then changed himself into a kite, and flew after the dove. They were very close to each other now; but the dove suddenly perceiving a river below him, flew down, changing himself into a stickleback, and stood on the defensive. The sorcerer, not wishing to be beaten, changed himself into a pike, and dashed into the water. The stickleback shot rapidly through a hole in the shell of a crawfish, and waited.

"Turn your head round, friend stickleback," said the pike, "and I will eat you."

"You had better not, friend pike, it would not agree with you; you would very soon suffocate. And besides, pikes never eat sticklebacks; it is not at all fashionable."

And then they stood looking at each other for nearly three hours, till at last the pike fell fast asleep. Meanwhile the stickleback slipped out of the shell and swam through the water. He swam and swam till he came to a raft. He climbed on to it, and floated on until he came near to the shore, where, to his surprise, he saw a most beautiful princess sitting watching the tide. The stickleback, changed himself at once into a golden ring, and rolled before the princess's feet. She took it up, put it on her beautiful little white finger, and gazed at it in admiration as she said softly, in a low, musical voice,—

"Ah, how I should like to find a good and handsome young man to marry me! I don't care for any of the men I have seen, they are none of them to my taste; but I suppose I am difficult to please, and shall have to die an old maid!"

At this moment the pike, who had been left sleeping, appeared on the scene, and, on hearing these words, changed himself at once into a handsome young man, and came up to the princess, saying,—

"I beg your pardon, Princess, I lost my ring just now, and I think you picked it up. Will you please give it back to me; or keep it, and take me for your husband, if you think I am good-looking enough for you."

The princess was very angry at the cool way in which the stranger spoke.

"Marry you, you impudent creature!" she cried. "There, take your ring, and be gone!"

So saying, she took the ring from her finger, and threw it down on the ground before the sorcerer; but the moment the ring fell it turned into a number of very small seeds, one of which rolled under the princess's shoe. On seeing this, the sorcerer changed himself quickly into a cock, and began picking the seeds. When he had finished eating them all up, he cried out in a loud voice,—

"Cock-a-doodle-doo! I have done the very thing I wanted!"

But at that moment the last seed rolled out from under the shoe, and, changing itself into a handsome hawk, threw itself on to the cock, and sent its sharp claws into his breast.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo, brother," cried the cock. "Let me go! let me go!"

"Not I," replied the hawk. "Did you ever know a hawk to be such a fool as all that?"

And the unfortunate cock was torn in two. After that the hawk changed himself into a young man, so handsome that it would be simply impossible to describe him, or even to imagine his equal!

The princess fell so much in love with him that in a very few days they were married. Of course the old woman came to the wedding, and everybody was happy all round, especially the old woman.

"I never thought—I never dreamt—that he would ever marry a princess!" she cried in her joy. "Now I shall be able to spend the rest of my days in peace and happiness. This is what has come out of the apprenticeship that every one laughed at."

Her son did not keep up the arts which the sorcerer had taught him, but very soon forgot them all, as he had not much chance to practise now.

Many years after some other people went in search of the same kind of apprenticeship for their sons; but all in vain, for the last sorcerer had been killed, and with him died the wonderful trade.

1. 10£. English.