The Gifts of the Magician

The Gifts Of The Magician

Once upon a time there was an old man who lived in a little hut in the

middle of a forest. His wife was dead, and he had only one son, whom he

loved dearly. Near their hut was a group of birch trees, in which some

black-game had made their nests, and the youth had often begged his

father’s permission to shoot the birds, but the old man always strictly

forbade him to do anything of the kind.

One day, however, when the father had gone to a little distance to

collect some sticks for the fire, the boy fetched his bow, and shot at

a bird that was just flying towards its nest. But he had not taken

proper aim, and the bird was only wounded, and fluttered along the

ground. The boy ran to catch it, but though he ran very fast, and the

bird seemed to flutter along very slowly, he never could quite come up

with it; it was always just a little in advance. But so absorbed was he

in the chase that he did not notice for some time that he was now deep

in the forest, in a place where he had never been before. Then he felt

it would be foolish to go any further, and he turned to find his way

home.

He thought it would be easy enough to follow the path along which he

had come, but somehow it was always branching off in unexpected

directions. He looked about for a house where he might stop and ask his

way, but there was not a sign of one anywhere, and he was afraid to

stand still, for it was cold, and there were many stories of wolves

being seen in that part of the forest. Night fell, and he was beginning

to start at every sound, when suddenly a magician came running towards

him, with a pack of wolves snapping at his heels. Then all the boy’s

courage returned to him. He took his bow, and aiming an arrow at the

largest wolf, shot him through the heart, and a few more arrows soon

put the rest to flight. The magician was full of gratitude to his

deliverer, and promised him a reward for his help if the youth would go

back with him to his house.

“Indeed there is nothing that would be more welcome to me than a

night’s lodging,” answered the boy; “I have been wandering all day in

the forest, and did not know how to get home again.

“Come with me, you must be hungry as well as tired,” said the magician,

and led the way to his house, where the guest flung himself on a bed,

and went fast asleep. But his host returned to the forest to get some

food, for the larder was empty.

While he was absent the housekeeper went to the boy’s room and tried to

wake him. She stamped on the floor, and shook him and called to him,

telling him that he was in great danger, and must take flight at once.

But nothing would rouse him, and if he did ever open his eyes he shut

them again directly.

Soon after, the magician came back from the forest, and told the

housekeeper to bring them something to eat. The meal was quickly ready,

and the magician called to the boy to come down and eat it, but he

could not be wakened, and they had to sit down to supper without him.

By-and-by the magician went out into the wood again for some more

hunting, and on his return he tried afresh to waken the youth. But

finding it quite impossible, he went back for the third time to the

forest.

While he was absent the boy woke up and dressed himself. Then he came

downstairs and began to talk to the housekeeper. The girl had heard how

he had saved her master’s life, so she said nothing more about his

running away, but instead told him that if the magician offered him the

choice of a reward, he was to ask for the horse which stood in the

third stall of the stable.

By-and-by the old man came back and they all sat down to dinner. When

they had finished the magician said: “Now, my son, tell me what you

will have as the reward of your courage?”

“Give me the horse that stands in the third stall of your stable,”

answered the youth. “For I have a long way to go before I get home, and

my feet will not carry me so far.”

“Ah! my son,” replied the magician, “it is the best horse in my stable

that you want! Will not anything else please you as well?”

But the youth declared that it was the horse, and the horse only, that

he desired, and in the end the old man gave way. And besides the horse,

the magician gave him a zither, a fiddle, and a flute, saying: “If you

are in danger, touch the zither; and if no one comes to your aid, then

play on the fiddle; but if that brings no help, blow on the flute.”

The youth thanked the magician, and fastening his treasures about him

mounted the horse and rode off. He had already gone some miles when, to

his great surprise, the horse spoke, and said: “It is no use your

returning home just now, your father will only beat you. Let us visit a

few towns first, and something lucky will be sure to happen to us.”

This advice pleased the boy, for he felt himself almost a man by this

time, and thought it was high time he saw the world. When they entered

the capital of the country everyone stopped to admire the beauty of the

horse. Even the king heard of it, and came to see the splendid creature

with his own eyes. Indeed, he wanted directly to buy it, and told the

youth he would give any price he liked. The young man hesitated for a

moment, but before he could speak, the horse contrived to whisper to

him:

“Do not sell me, but ask the king to take me to his stable, and feed me

there; then his other horses will become just as beautiful as I.”

The king was delighted when he was told what the horse had said, and

took the animal at once to the stables, and placed it in his own

particular stall. Sure enough, the horse had scarcely eaten a mouthful

of corn out of the manger, when the rest of the horses seemed to have

undergone a transformation. Some of them were old favourites which the

king had ridden in many wars, and they bore the signs of age and of

service. But now they arched their heads, and pawed the ground with

their slender legs as they had been wont to do in days long gone by.

The king’s heart beat with delight, but the old groom who had had the

care of them stood crossly by, and eyed the owner of this wonderful

creature with hate and envy. Not a day passed without his bringing some

story against the youth to his master, but the king understood all

about the matter and paid no attention. At last the groom declared that

the young man had boasted that he could find the king’s war horse which

had strayed into the forest several years ago, and had not been heard

of since. Now the king had never ceased to mourn for his horse, so this

time he listened to the tale which the groom had invented, and sent for

the youth. “Find me my horse in three days,” said he, “or it will be

the worse for you.”

The youth was thunderstruck at this command, but he only bowed, and

went off at once to the stable.

“Do not worry yourself,” answered his own horse. “Ask the king to give

you a hundred oxen, and to let them be killed and cut into small

pieces. Then we will start on our journey, and ride till we reach a

certain river. There a horse will come up to you, but take no notice of

him. Soon another will appear, and this also you must leave alone, but

when the third horse shows itself, throw my bridle over it.”

Everything happened just as the horse had said, and the third horse was

safely bridled. Then the other horse spoke again: “The magician’s raven

will try to eat us as we ride away, but throw it some of the oxen’s

flesh, and then I will gallop like the wind, and carry you safe out of

the dragon’s clutches.”

So the young man did as he was told, and brought the horse back to the

king.

The old stableman was very jealous, when he heard of it, and wondered

what he could do to injure the youth in the eyes of his royal master.

At last he hit upon a plan, and told the king that the young man had

boasted that he could bring home the king’s wife, who had vanished many

months before, without leaving a trace behind her. Then the king bade

the young man come into his presence, and desired him to fetch the

queen home again, as he had boasted he could do. And if he failed, his

head would pay the penalty.

The poor youth’s heart stood still as he listened. Find the queen? But

how was he to do that, when nobody in the palace had been able to do

so! Slowly he walked to the stable, and laying his head on his horse’s

shoulder, he said: “The king has ordered me to bring his wife home

again, and how can I do that when she disappeared so long ago, and no

one can tell me anything about her?”

“Cheer up!” answered the horse, “we will manage to find her. You have

only got to ride me back to the same river that we went to yesterday,

and I will plunge into it and take my proper shape again. For I am the

king’s wife, who was turned into a horse by the magician from whom you

saved me.”

Joyfully the young man sprang into the saddle and rode away to the

banks of the river. Then he threw himself off, and waited while the

horse plunged in. The moment it dipped its head into the water its

black skin vanished, and the most beautiful woman in the world was

floating on the water. She came smiling towards the youth, and held out

her hand, and he took it and led her back to the palace. Great was the

king’s surprise and happiness when he beheld his lost wife stand before

him, and in gratitude to her rescuer he loaded him with gifts.

You would have thought that after this the poor youth would have been

left in peace; but no, his enemy the stableman hated him as much as

ever, and laid a new plot for his undoing. This time he presented

himself before the king and told him that the youth was so puffed up

with what he had done that he had declared he would seize the king’s

throne for himself.

At this news the king waxed so furious that he ordered a gallows to be

erected at once, and the young man to be hanged without a trial. He was

not even allowed to speak in his own defence, but on the very steps of

the gallows he sent a message to the king and begged, as a last favour,

that he might play a tune on his zither. Leave was given him, and

taking the instrument from under his cloak he touched the strings.

Scarcely had the first notes sounded than the hangman and his helper

began to dance, and the louder grew the music the higher they capered,

till at last they cried for mercy. But the youth paid no heed, and the

tunes rang out more merrily than before, and by the time the sun set

they both sank on the ground exhausted, and declared that the hanging

must be put off till to-morrow.

The story of the zither soon spread through the town, and on the

following morning the king and his whole court and a large crowd of

people were gathered at the foot of the gallows to see the youth

hanged. Once more he asked a favour—permission to play on his fiddle,

and this the king was graciously pleased to grant. But with the first

notes, the leg of every man in the crowd was lifted high, and they

danced to the sound of the music the whole day till darkness fell, and

there was no light to hang the musician by.

The third day came, and the youth asked leave to play on his flute.

“No, no,” said the king, “you made me dance all day yesterday, and if I

do it again it will certainly be my death. You shall play no more

tunes. Quick! the rope round his neck.”

At these words the young man looked so sorrowful that the courtiers

said to the king: “He is very young to die. Let him play a tune if it

will make him happy.” So, very unwillingly, the king gave him leave;

but first he had himself bound to a big fir tree, for fear that he

should be made to dance.

When he was made fast, the young man began to blow softly on his flute,

and bound though he was, the king’s body moved to the sound, up and

down the fir tree till his clothes were in tatters, and the skin nearly

rubbed off his back. But the youth had no pity, and went on blowing,

till suddenly the old magician appeared and asked: “What danger are you

in, my son, that you have sent for me?”

“They want to hang me,” answered the young man; “the gallows are all

ready and the hangman is only waiting for me to stop playing.”

“Oh, I will put that right,” said the magician; and taking the gallows,

he tore it up and flung it into the air, and no one knows where it came

down. “Who has ordered you to be hanged?” asked he.

The young man pointed to the king, who was still bound to the fir; and

without wasting words the magician took hold of the tree also, and with

a mighty heave both fir and man went spinning through the air, and

vanished in the clouds after the gallows.

Then the youth was declared to be free, and the people elected him for

their king; and the stable helper drowned himself from envy, for, after

all, if it had not been for him the young man would have remained poor

all the days of his life.

[From Finnische Mährchen.]