Andrew Lang_Fairy Book 09 (27 page)

The princess was very much vexed with her ladies-in-waiting for
frightening away her old playfellow, and told the queen who came
to her room every evening to bid her good-night.

'Yes, it is quite true what Kisa said,' answered the queen; 'I
should have liked to see her again. Perhaps, some day, she will
return, and then you must bring her to me.'

Next morning it was very hot, and the princess declared that she
must go and play in the forest, where it was always cool, under
the big shady trees. As usual, her attendants let her do
anything she pleased, and sitting down on a mossy bank where a
little stream tinkled by, soon fell sound asleep. The princess
saw with delight that they would pay no heed to her, and wandered
on and on, expecting every moment to see some fairies dancing
round a ring, or some little brown elves peeping at her from
behind a tree. But, alas! she met none of these; instead, a
horrible giant came out of his cave and ordered her to follow
him. The princess felt much afraid, as he was so big and ugly,
and began to be sorry that she had not stayed within reach of
help; but as there was no use in disobeying the giant, she walked
meekly behind.

They went a long way, and Ingibjorg grew very tired, and at
length began to cry.

'I don't like girls who make horrid noises,' said the giant,
turning round. 'But if you WANT to cry, I will give you
something to cry for.' And drawing an axe from his belt, he cut
off both her feet, which he picked up and put in his pocket.
Then he went away.

Poor Ingibjorg lay on the grass in terrible pain, and wondering
if she should stay there till she died, as no one would know
where to look for her. How long it was since she had set out in
the morning she could not tell—it seemed years to her, of
course; but the sun was still high in the heavens when she heard
the sound of wheels, and then, with a great effort, for her
throat was parched with fright and pain, she gave a shout.

'I am coming!' was the answer; and in another moment a cart made
its way through the trees, driven by Kisa, who used her tail as a
whip to urge the horse to go faster. Directly Kisa saw Ingibjorg
lying there, she jumped quickly down, and lifting the girl
carefully in her two front paws, laid her upon some soft hay, and
drove back to her own little hut.

In the corner of the room was a pile of cushions, and these Kisa
arranged as a bed. Ingibjorg, who by this time was nearly
fainting from all she had gone through, drank greedily some milk,
and then sank back on the cushions while Kisa fetched some dried
herbs from a cupboard, soaked them in warm water and tied them on
the bleeding legs. The pain vanished at once, and Ingibjorg
looked up and smiled at Kisa.

'You will go to sleep now,' said the cat, 'and you will not mind
if I leave you for a little while. I will lock the door, and no
one can hurt you.' But before she had finished the princess was
asleep. Then Kisa got into the cart, which was standing at the
door, and catching up the reins, drove straight to the giant's
cave.

Leaving her cart behind some trees, Kisa crept gently up to the
open door, and, crouching down, listened to what the giant was
telling his wife, who was at supper with him.

'The first day that I can spare I shall just go back and kill
her,' he said; 'it would never do for people in the forest to
know that a mere girl can defy me!' And he and his wife were so
busy calling Ingibjorg all sorts of names for her bad behaviour,
that they never noticed Kisa stealing into a dark corner, and
upsetting a whole bag of salt into the great pot before the fire.

'Dear me, how thirsty I am!' cried the giant by-and-by.

'So am I,' answered the wife. 'I do wish I had not taken that
last spoonful of broth; I am sure something was wrong with it.'

'If I don't get some water I shall die,' went on the giant. And
rushing out of the cave, followed by his wife, he ran down the
path which led to the river.

Then Kisa entered the hut, and lost no time in searching every
hole till she came upon some grass, under which Ingibjorg's feet
were hidden, and putting them in her cart, drove back again to
her own hut.

Ingibjorg was thankful to see her, for she had lain, too
frightened to sleep, trembling at every noise.

'Oh, is it you?' she cried joyfully, as Kisa turned the key. And
the cat came in, holding up the two neat little feet in their
silver slippers.

'In two minutes they shall be as tight as they ever were!' said
Kisa. And taking some strings of the magic grass which the giant
had carelessly heaped on them, she bound the feet on to the legs
above.

'Of course you won't be able to walk for some time; you must not
expect THAT,' she continued. 'But if you are very good, perhaps,
in about a week, I may carry you home again.'

And so she did; and when the cat drove the cart up to the palace
gate, lashing the horse furiously with her tail, and the king and
queen saw their lost daughter sitting beside her, they declared
that no reward could be too great for the person who had brought
her out of the giant's hands.

'We will talk about that by-and-by,' said the cat, as she made
her best bow, and turned her horse's head.

The princess was very unhappy when Kisa left her without even
bidding her farewell. She would neither eat nor drink, nor take
any notice of all the beautiful dresses her parents bought for
her.

'She will die, unless we can make her laugh,' one whispered to
the other. 'Is there anything in the world that we have left
untried?'

'Nothing except marriage,' answered the king. And he invited all
the handsomest young men he could think of to the palace, and
bade the princess choose a husband from among them.

It took her some time to decide which she admired the most, but
at last she fixed upon a young prince, whose eyes were like the
pools in the forest, and his hair of bright gold. The king and
the queen were greatly pleased, as the young man was the son of a
neighbouring king, and they gave orders that a splendid feast
should be got ready.

When the marriage was over, Kisa suddenly stood before them, and
Ingibjorg rushed forward and clasped her in her arms.

'I have come to claim my reward,' said the cat. 'Let me sleep
for this night at the foot of your bed.'

'Is that ALL?' asked Ingibjorg, much disappointed.

'It is enough,' answered the cat. And when the morning dawned,
it was no cat that lay upon the bed, but a beautiful princess.

'My mother and I were both enchanted by a spiteful fairy,' said
she, 'we could not free ourselves till we had done some kindly
deed that had never been wrought before. My mother died without
ever finding a chance of doing anything new, but I took advantage
of the evil act of the giant to make you as whole as ever.'

Then they were all more delighted than before, and the princess
lived in the court until she, too, married, and went away to
govern one of her own.

(Adapted from Neuislandischen Volksmarchen.)

Far away on the other side of the world there lived, long ago, a
lion and his younger brother, the wild cat, who were so fond of
each other that they shared the same hut. The lion was much the
bigger and stronger of the two—indeed, he was much bigger and
stronger than any of the beasts that dwelt in the forest; and,
besides, he could jump father and run faster than all the rest.
If strength and swiftness could gain him a dinner he was sure
never to be without one, but when it came to cunning, both the
grizzly bear and the serpent could get the better of him, and he
was forced to call in the help of the wild cat.

Now the young wild cat had a lovely golden ball, so beautiful
that you could hardly look at it except through a piece of smoked
glass, and he kept it hidden in the thick fur muff that went
round his neck. A very large old animal, since dead, had given
it to him when he was hardly more than a baby, and had told him
never to part with it, for as long as he kept it no harm could
ever come near him.

In general the wild cat did not need to use his ball, for the
lion was fond of hunting, and could kill all the food that they
needed; but now and then his life would have been in danger had
it not been for the golden ball.

One day the two brothers started to hunt at daybreak, but as the
cat could not run nearly as fast as the lion, he had quite a long
start. At least he THOUGHT it was a long one, but in a very few
bounds and springs the lion reached his side.

'There is a bear sitting on that tree,' he whispered softly. 'He
is only waiting for us to pass, to drop down on my back.'

'Ah, you are so big that he does not see I am behind you,'
answered the wild cat. And, touching the ball, he just said:
'Bear, die!' And the bear tumbled dead out of the tree, and
rolled over just in front of them.

For some time they trotted on without any adventures, till just
as they were about to cross a strip of long grass on the edge of
the forest, the lion's quick ears detected a faint rustling
noise.

'That is a snake,' he cried, stopping short, for he was much more
afraid of snakes than of bears.

'Oh, it is all right,' answered the cat. 'Snake, die!' And the
snake died, and the two brothers skinned it. They then folded
the skin up into a very small parcel, and the cat tucked it into
his mane, for snakes' skins can do all sorts of wonderful things,
if you are lucky enough to have one of them.

All this time they had had no dinner, for the snake's flesh was
not nice, and the lion did not like eating bear—perhaps because
he never felt sure that the bear was REALLY dead, and would not
jump up alive when his enemy went near him. Most people are
afraid of SOME thing, and bears and serpents were the only
creatures that caused the lion's heart to tremble. So the two
brothers set off again and soon reached the side of a hill where
some fine deer were grazing.

'Kill one of those deer for your own dinner,' said the boy-
brother, 'but catch me another alive. I want him.'

The lion at once sprang towards them with a loud roar, but the
deer bounded away, and they were all three soon lost to sight.
The cat waited for a long while, but finding that the lion did
not return, went back to the house where they lived.

It was quite dark when the lion came home, where his brother was
sitting curled up in one corner.

'Did you catch the deer for me?' asked the boy-brother, springing
up.

'Well, no,' replied the man-brother. 'The fact is, that I did
not get up to them till we had run half way across the world and
left the wind far behind us. Think what a trouble it would have
been to drag it here! So—I just ate them both.'

The cat said nothing, but he did not feel that he loved his big
brother. He had thought a great deal about that deer, and had
meant to get on his back to ride him as a horse, and go to see
all the wonderful places the lion talked to him about when he was
in a good temper. The more he thought of it the more sulky he
grew, and in the morning, when the lion said that it was time for
them to start to hunt, the cat told him that he might kill the
bear and snake by himself, as HE had a headache, and would rather
stay at home. The little fellow knew quite well that the lion
would not dare to go out without him and his ball for fear of
meeting a bear or a snake.

The quarrel went on, and for many days neither of the brothers
spoke to each other, and what made them still more cross was,
that they could get very little to eat, and we know that people
are often cross when they are hungry. At last it occurred to the
lion that if he could only steal the magic ball he could kill
bears and snakes for himself, and then the cat might be as sulky
as he liked for anything that it would matter. But how was the
stealing to be done? The cat had the ball hung round his neck
day and night, and he was such a light sleeper that it was
useless to think of taking it while he slept. No! the only thing
was to get him to lend it of his own accord, and after some days
the lion (who was not at all clever) hit upon a plan that he
thought would do.

'Dear me, how dull it is here!' said the lion one afternoon, when
the rain was pouring down in such torrents that, however sharp
your eyes or your nose might be, you could not spy a single bird
or beast among the bushes. 'Dear me, how dull, how dreadfully
dull I am. Couldn't we have a game of catch with that golden
ball of yours?'

'I don't care about playing catch, it does not amuse me,'
answered the cat, who was as cross as ever; for no cat, even to
this day, ever forgets an injury done to him.

'Well, then, lend me the ball for a little, and I will play by
myself,' replied the lion, stretching out a paw as he spoke.

'You can't play in the rain, and if you did, you would only lose
it in the bushes,' said the cat.

'Oh, no, I won't; I will play in here. Don't be so ill-natured.'
And with a very bad grace the cat untied the string and threw the
golden ball into the lion's lap, and composed himself to sleep
again.

For a long while the lion tossed it up and down gaily, feeling
that, however sound asleep the boy-brother might LOOK, he was
sure to have one eye open; but gradually he began to edge closer
to the opening, and at last gave such a toss that the ball went
up high into the air, and he could not see what became of it.

'Oh, how stupid of me!' he cried, as the cat sprang up angrily,
'let us go at once and search for it. It can't really have
fallen very far.' But though they searched that day and the
next, and the next after that, they never found it, because it
never came down.

After the loss of his ball the cat refused to live with the lion
any longer, but wandered away to the north, always hoping he
might meet with his ball again. But months passed, and years
passed, and though he travelled over hundreds of miles, he never
saw any traces of it.