Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 09 (12 page)

At her words the husband took courage, and spoke hastily:

'Yes, you promised you would go to war and bring back some
prisoners, and you have not done it.'

'I DID go, and made many prisoners,' retorted the turtle angrily,
drawing out his knife. 'Look here, if she won't be MY wife, she
sha'n't be YOURS. I will cut her in two; and you shall have one
half, and I the other.'

'But half a woman is no use to me,' answered the man. 'If you
want her so much you had better take her.' And the turtle,
followed by his relations, carried her off to his own hut.

Now the woman saw she would gain nothing by being sulky, so she
pretended to be very glad to have got rid of her husband; but all
the while she was trying to invent a plan to deliver herself from
the turtle. At length she remembered that one of her friends had
a large iron pot, and when the turtle had gone to his room to put
away his fringes, she ran over to her neighbour's and brought it
back. Then she filled it with water and hung it over the fire to
boil. It was just beginning to bubble and hiss when the turtle
entered.

'What are you doing there?' asked he, for he was always afraid of
things that he did not understand.

'Just warming some water,' she answered. 'Do you know how to
swim?'

'Yes, of course I do. What a question! But what does it matter
to you?' said the turtle, more suspicious than ever.

'Oh, I only thought that after your long journey you might like
to wash. The roads are so muddy, after the winter's rains. I
could rub your shell for you till it was bright and shining
again.

'Well, I AM rather muddy. If one is fighting, you know, one
cannot stop to pick one's way. I should certainly be more
comfortable if my back was washed.'

The woman did not wait for him to change his mind. She caught
him up by his shell and popped him straight into the pot, where
he sank to the bottom, and died instantly.

The other turtles, who were standing at the door, saw their
leader disappear, and felt it was their duty as soldiers to
follow him; and, springing into the pot, died too. All but one
young turtle, who, frightened at not seeing any of his friends
come out again, went as fast as he could to a clump of bushes,
and from there made his way to the river. His only thought was
to get away as far as possible from that dreadful hut; so he let
the river carry him where it was going itself, and at last, one
day, he found himself in the warm sea, where, if he is not dead,
you may meet him still.

(Bureau of Ethnology.)

Once upon a time there lived a poor knight who had a great many
children, and found it very hard to get enough for them to eat.
One day he sent his eldest son, Rosald, a brave and honest youth,
to the neighbouring town to do some business, and here Rosald met
a young man named Geirald, with whom he made friends.

Now Geirald was the son of a rich man, who was proud of the boy,
and had all his life allowed him to do whatever he fancied, and,
luckily for the father, he was prudent and sensible, and did not
waste money, as many other rich young men might have done. For
some time he had set his heart on travelling into foreign
countries, and after he had been talking for a little while to
Rosald, he asked if his new friend would be his companion on his
journey.

'There is nothing I should like better,' answered Rosald, shaking
his head sorrowfully; 'but my father is very poor, and he could
never give me the money.'

'Oh, if that is your only difficulty, it is all right,' cried
Geirald. 'My father has more money than he knows what to do
with, and he will give me as much as I want for both of us; only,
there is one thing you must promise me, Rosald, that, supposing
we have any adventures, you will let the honour and glory of them
fall to me.'

'Yes, of course, that is only fair,' answered Rosald, who never
cared about putting himself forward. 'But I cannot go without
telling my parents. I am sure they will think me lucky to get
such a chance.'

As soon as the business was finished, Rosald hastened home. His
parents were delighted to hear of his good fortune, and his
father gave him his own sword, which was growing rusty for want
of use, while his mother saw that his leather jerkin was in
order.

'Be sure you keep the promise you made to Geirald,' said she, as
she bade him good-bye, 'and, come what may, see that you never
betray him.'

Full of joy Rosald rode off, and the next day he and Geirald
started off to seek adventures. To their disappointment their
own land was so well governed that nothing out of the common was
very likely to happen, but directly they crossed the border into
another kingdom all seemed lawlessness and confusion.

They had not gone very far, when, riding across a mountain, they
caught a glimpse of several armed men hiding amongst some trees
in their path, and remembered suddenly some talk they had heard
of a band of twelve robbers who lay in wait for rich travellers.
The robbers were more like savage beasts than men, and lived
somewhere at the top of the mountain in caves and holes in the
ground. They were all called 'Hankur,' and were distinguished
one from another by the name of a colour—blue, grey, red, and so
on, except their chief, who was known as Hankur the Tall. All
this and more rushed into the minds of the two young men as they
saw the flash of their swords in the moonlight.

'It is impossible to fight them—they are twelve to two,'
whispered Geirald, stopping his horse in the path. 'We had much
better ride back and take the lower road. It would be stupid to
throw away our lives like this.'

'Oh, we can't turn back,' answered Rosald, 'we should be ashamed
to look anyone in the face again! And, besides, it is a grand
opportunity to show what we are made of. Let us tie up our
horses here, and climb up the rocks so that we can roll stones
down on them.'

'Well, we might try that, and then we shall always have our
horses,' said Geirald. So they went up the rocks silently and
carefully.

The robbers were lying all ready, expecting every moment to see
their victims coming round the corner a few yards away, when a
shower of huge stones fell on their heads, killing half the band.
The others sprang up the rock, but as they reached the top the
sword of Rosald swung round, and one man after another rolled
down into the valley. At last the chief managed to spring up,
and, grasping Rosald by the waist, flung away his sword, and the
two fought desperately, their bodies swaying always nearer the
edge. It seemed as if Rosald, being the smaller of the two, MUST
fall over, when, with his left hand, he drew the robber's sword
out of its sheath and plunged it into his heart. Then he took
from the dead man a beautiful ring set with a large stone, and
put it on his own finger.

The fame of this wonderful deed soon spread through the country,
and people would often stop Geirald's horse, and ask leave to see
the robber's ring, which was said to have been stolen from the
father of the reigning king. And Geirald showed them the ring
with pride, and listened to their words of praise, and no one
would ever have guessed anyone else had destroyed the robbers.

In a few days they left the kingdom and rode on to another, where
they thought they would stop through the remainder of the winter,
for Geirald liked to be comfortable, and did not care about
travelling through ice and snow. But the king would only grant
them leave to stop on condition that, before the winter was
ended, they should give him some fresh proof of the courage of
which he had heard so much. Rosald's heart was glad at the
king's message, and as for Geirald, he felt that as long as
Rosald was there all would go well. So they both bowed low and
replied that it was the king's place to command and theirs to
obey.

'Well, then,' said his Majesty, 'this is what I want you to do:
In the north-east part of my kingdom there dwells a giant, who
has an iron staff twenty yards long, and he is so quick in using
it, that even fifty knights have no chance against him. The
bravest and strongest young men of my court have fallen under the
blows of that staff; but, as you overcame the twelve robbers so
easily, I feel that I have reason to hope that you may be able to
conquer the giant. In three days from this you will set out.'

'We will be ready, your Majesty,' answered Rosald; but Geirald
remained silent.

'How can we possibly fight against a giant that has killed fifty
knights?' cried Geirald, when they were outside the castle. 'The
king only wants to get rid of us! He won't think about us for the
next three days—that is one comfort—so we shall have plenty of
time to cross the borders of the kingdom and be out of reach.'

'We mayn't be able to kill the giant, but we certainly can't run
away till we have tried,' answered Rosald. 'Besides, think how
glorious it will be if we DO manage to kill him! I know what sort
of weapon I shall use. Come with me now, and I will see about
it.' And, taking his friend by the arm, he led him into a shop
where he bought a huge lump of solid iron, so big that they could
hardly lift it between them. However, they just managed to carry
it to a blacksmith's where Rosald directed that it should be
beaten into a thick club, with a sharp spike at one end. When
this was done to his liking he took it home under his arm.

Very early on the third morning the two young men started on
their journey, and on the fourth day they reached the giant's
cave before he was out of bed. Hearing the sound of footsteps,
the giant got up and went to the entrance to see who was coming,
and Rosald, expecting something of the sort, struck him such a
blow on the forehead that he fell to the ground. Then, before he
could rise to his feet again, Rosald drew out his sword and cut
off his head.

'It was not so difficult after all, you see,' he said, turning to
Geirald. And placing the giant's head in a leathern wallet which
was slung over his back, they began their journey to the castle.

As they drew near the gates, Rosald took the head from the wallet
and handed it to Geirald, whom he followed into the king's
presence.

'The giant will trouble you no more,' said Geirald, holding out
the head. And the king fell on his neck and kissed him, and
cried joyfully that he was the 'bravest knight in all the world,
and that a feast should be made for him and Rosald, and that the
great deed should be proclaimed throughout the kingdom.' And
Geirald's heart swelled with pride, and he almost forgot that it
was Rosald and not he, who had slain the giant.

By-and-by a whisper went round that a beautiful lady who lived in
the castle would be present at the feast, with twenty-four lovely
maidens, her attendants. The lady was the queen of her own
country, but as her father and mother had died when she was a
little girl, she had been left in the care of this king who was
her uncle.

She was now old enough to govern her own kingdom, but her
subjects did not like being ruled by a woman, and said that she
must find a husband to help her in managing her affairs. Prince
after prince had offered himself, but the young queen would have
nothing to say to any of them, and at last told her ministers
that if she was to have a husband at all she must choose him for
herself, as she would certainly not marry any of those whom they
had selected for her. The ministers replied that in that case
she had better manage her kingdom alone, and the queen, who knew
nothing about business, got things into such a confusion that at
last she threw them up altogether, and went off to her uncle.

Now when she heard how the two young men had slain the giant, her
heart was filled with admiration of their courage, and she
declared that if a feast was held she would certainly be present
at it.

And so she was; and when the feast was over she asked the king,
her guardian, if he would allow the two heroes who had killed the
robbers and slain the giant to fight a tourney the next day with
one of her pages. The king gladly gave his consent, and ordered
the lists to be made ready, never doubting that two great
champions would be eager for such a chance of adding to their
fame. Little did he guess that Geirald had done all he could to
persuade Rosald to steal secretly out of the castle during the
night, 'for,' said he, 'I don't believe they are pages at all,
but well-proved knights, and how can we, so young and untried,
stand up against them?'

'The honour will be all the higher if we gain the day,' answered
Rosald; but Geirald would listen to nothing, and only declared
that he did not care about honour, and would rather be alive than
have every honour in the world heaped upon him. Go he would, and
as Rosald had sworn to give him his company, he must come with
him.

Rosald was much grieved when he heard these words, but he knew
that it was useless attempting to persuade Geirald, and turned
his thoughts to forming some plan to prevent this disgraceful
flight. Suddenly his face brightened. 'Let us change clothes,'
he said, 'and I will do the fighting, while you shall get the
glory. Nobody will ever know.' And to this Geirald readily
consented.

Whether Geirald was right or not in thinking that the so-called
page was really a well-proved knight, it is certain that Rosald's
task was a very hard one. Three times they came together with a
crash which made their horses reel; once Rosald knocked the
helmet off his foe, and received in return such a blow that he
staggered in his saddle. Shouts went up from the lookers-on, as
first one and then the other seemed gaining the victory; but at
length Rosald planted his spear in the armour which covered his
adversary's breast and bore him steadily backward. 'Unhorsed!
unhorsed!' cried the people; and Rosald then himself dismounted
and helped his adversary to rise.