The Norka

The Norka

THE NORKA.[85]

Once upon a time there lived a king and queen. They had three

sons, two of them with their wits about them, but the third a

simpleton. Now the King had a deer-park in which were quantities

of wild animals of different kinds. Into that park there

used to come a huge beast--Norka was its name--and do fearful

mischief, devouring some of the animals every night. The King

did all he could, but he was unable to destroy it. So at last he

called his sons together and said: "Whoever will destroy the

Norka, to him will I give the half of my kingdom."

Well, the eldest son undertook the task. As soon as it was

night, he took his weapons and set out. But before he reached

the park, he went into a traktir (or tavern), and there he spent

the whole night in revelry. When he came to his senses it was

too late; the day had already dawned. He felt himself disgraced

in the eyes of his father, but there was no help for it. The next

day the second son went, and did just the same. Their father

scolded them both soundly, and there was an end of it.

Well, on the third day the youngest son undertook the task.

They all laughed him to scorn, because he was so stupid, feeling

sure he wouldn't do anything. But he took his arms, and went

straight into the park, and sat down on the grass in such a position

that, the moment he went asleep, his weapons would prick

him, and he would awake.

Presently the midnight hour sounded. The earth began to

shake, and the Norka came rushing up, and burst right through

the fence into the park, so huge was it. The Prince pulled himself

together, leapt to his feet, crossed himself, and went straight

at the beast. It fled back, and the Prince ran after it. But he

soon saw that he couldn't catch it on foot, so he hastened to the

stable, laid his hands on the best horse there, and set off in

pursuit. Presently he came up with the beast, and they began a

fight. They fought and fought; the Prince gave the beast three

wounds. At last they were both utterly exhausted, so they lay

down to take a short rest. But the moment the Prince closed his

eyes, up jumped the Beast and took to flight. The Prince's horse

awoke him; up he jumped in a moment, and set off again in

pursuit, caught up the Beast, and again began fighting with it.

Again the Prince gave the Beast three wounds, and then he and

the Beast lay down again to rest. Thereupon away fled the

Beast as before. The Prince caught it up, and again gave it

three wounds. But all of a sudden, just as the Prince began

chasing it for the fourth time, the Beast fled to a great white

stone, tilted it up, and escaped into the other world,[86] crying out

to the Prince: "Then only will you overcome me, when you

enter here."

The Prince went home, told his father all that had happened,

and asked him to have a leather rope plaited, long enough to

reach to the other world. His father ordered this to be done.

When the rope was made, the Prince called for his brothers, and

he and they, having taken servants with them, and everything that

was needed for a whole year, set out for the place where the

Beast had disappeared under the stone. When they got there,

they built a palace on the spot, and lived in it for some time.

But when everything was ready, the youngest brother said to

the others: "Now, brothers, who is going to lift this stone?"

Neither of them could so much as stir it, but as soon as he

touched it, away it flew to a distance, though it was ever so big--big

as a hill. And when he had flung the stone aside, he spoke

a second time to his brothers, saying:

"Who is going into the other world, to overcome the Norka?"

Neither of them offered to do so. Then he laughed at them

for being such cowards, and said:

"Well, brothers, farewell! Lower me into the other world,

and don't go away from here, but as soon as the cord is jerked,

pull it up."

His brothers lowered him accordingly, and when he had

reached the other world, underneath the earth, he went on his

way. He walked and walked. Presently he espied a horse with

rich trappings, and it said to him:

"Hail, Prince Ivan! Long have I awaited thee!"

He mounted the horse and rode on--rode and rode, until he

saw standing before him, a palace made of copper. He entered

the courtyard, tied up his horse, and went indoors. In one of

the rooms a dinner was laid out. He sat down and dined, and

then went into a bedroom. There he found a bed, on which he

lay down to rest. Presently there came in a lady, more beautiful

than can be imagined anywhere but in a skazka, who said:

"Thou who art in my house, name thyself! If thou art an

old man, thou shall be my father; if a middle-aged man, my

brother; but if a young man, thou shalt be my husband dear.

And if thou art a woman, and an old one, thou shalt be my grandmother;

if middle-aged, my mother; and if a girl, thou shalt be

my own sister."[87]

Thereupon he came forth. And when she saw him, she was

delighted with him, and said:

"Wherefore, O Prince Ivan--my husband dear shalt thou be!--wherefore

hast thou come hither?"

Then he told her all that had happened, and she said:

"That beast which thou wishest to overcome is my brother.

He is staying just now with my second sister, who lives not far

from here in a silver palace. I bound up three of the wounds

which thou didst give him."

Well, after this they drank, and enjoyed themselves, and held

sweet converse together, and then the prince took leave of her,

and went on to the second sister, the one who lived in the silver

palace, and with her also he stayed awhile. She told him that

her brother Norka was then at her youngest sister's. So he

went on to the youngest sister, who lived in a golden palace.

She told him that her brother was at that time asleep on the

blue sea, and she gave him a sword of steel and a draught of the

Water of Strength, and she told him to cut off her brother's

head at a single stroke. And when he had heard these things,

he went his way.

And when the Prince came to the blue sea, he looked--there

slept Norka on a stone in the middle of the sea; and when it

snored, the water was agitated for seven versts around. The

Prince crossed himself, went up to it and smote it on the head

with his sword. The head jumped off, saying the while, "Well,

I'm done for now!" and rolled far away into the sea.

After killing the Beast, the Prince went back again, picking

up all the three sisters by the way, with the intention of taking

them out into the upper world: for they all loved him and would

not be separated from him. Each of them turned her palace

into an egg--for they were all enchantresses--and they taught

him how to turn the eggs into palaces, and back again, and they

handed over the eggs to him. And then they all went to the

place from which they had to be hoisted into the upper world.

And when they came to where the rope was, the Prince took

hold of it and made the maidens fast to it.[88] Then he jerked

away at the rope, and his brothers began to haul it up. And

when they had hauled it up, and had set eyes on the wondrous

maidens, they went aside and said: "Let's lower the rope, pull

our brother part of the way up, and then cut the rope. Perhaps

he'll be killed; but then if he isn't, he'll never give us these

beauties as wives."

So when they had agreed on this, they lowered the rope.

But their brother was no fool; he guessed what they were at,

so he fastened the rope to a stone, and then gave it a pull.

His brothers hoisted the stone to a great height, and then cut

the rope. Down fell the stone and broke in pieces; the Prince

poured forth tears and went away. Well, he walked and walked.

Presently a storm arose; the lightning flashed, the thunder

roared, the rain fell in torrents. He went up to a tree in order

to take shelter under it, and on that tree he saw some young

birds which were being thoroughly drenched. So he took off

his coat and covered them over with it, and he himself sat down

under the tree. Presently there came flying a bird--such a big

one, that the light was blotted out by it. It had been dark

there before, but now it became darker still. Now this was the

mother of those small birds which the Prince had covered up.

And when the bird had come flying up, she perceived that her

little ones were covered over, and she said, "Who has wrapped

up my nestlings?" and presently, seeing the Prince, she added:

"Didst thou do that? Thanks! In return, ask of me any

thing thou desirest. I will do anything for thee."

"Then carry me into the other world," he replied.

"Make me a large zasyek[89] with a partition in the middle,"

she said; "catch all sorts of game, and put them into one half

of it, and into the other half pour water; so that there may be

meat and drink for me."

All this the Prince did. Then the bird--having taken the

zasyek on her back, with the Prince sitting in the middle of it--began

to fly. And after flying some distance she brought him

to his journey's end, took leave of him, and flew away back.

But he went to the house of a certain tailor, and engaged himself

as his servant. So much the worse for wear was he, so

thoroughly had he altered in appearance, that nobody would

have suspected him of being a Prince.

Having entered into the service of this master, the Prince

began to ask what was going on in that country. And his

master replied: "Our two princes--for the third one has disappeared--have

brought away brides from the other world, and

want to marry them, but those brides refuse. For they insist

on having all their wedding-clothes made for them first, exactly

like those which they used to have in the other world, and that

without being measured for them. The King has called all the

workmen together, but not one of them will undertake to do it."

The Prince, having heard all this, said, "Go to the King,

master, and tell him that you will provide everything that's in

your line."

"However can I undertake to make clothes of that sort;

I work for quite common folks," says his master.

"Go along, master! I will answer for everything," says

the Prince.

So the tailor went. The King was delighted that at least

one good workman had been found, and gave him as much

money as ever he wanted. When the tailor had settled everything,

he went home. And the Prince said to him:

"Now then, pray to God, and lie down to sleep; to-morrow

all will be ready." And the tailor followed his lad's advice,

and went to bed.

Midnight sounded. The Prince arose, went out of the city

into the fields, took out of his pocket the eggs which the

maidens had given him, and, as they had taught him, turned

them into three palaces. Into each of these he entered, took

the maidens' robes, went out again, turned the palaces back

into eggs, and went home. And when he got there he hung up

the robes on the wall, and lay down to sleep.

Early in the morning his master awoke, and behold! there

hung such robes as he had never seen before, all shining with

gold and silver and precious stones. He was delighted, and he

seized them and carried them off to the King. When the princesses

saw that the clothes were those which had been theirs in

the other world, they guessed that Prince Ivan was in this

world, so they exchanged glances with each other, but they

held their peace. And the master, having handed over the

clothes, went home, but he no longer found his dear journeyman

there. For the Prince had gone to a shoemaker's, and him too

he sent to work for the King; and in the same way he went the

round of all the artificers, and they all proffered him thanks,

inasmuch as through him they were enriched by the King.

By the time the princely workman had gone the round of all

the artificers, the princesses had received what they had asked

for; all their clothes were just like what they had been in the

other world. Then they wept bitterly because the Prince had

not come, and it was impossible for them to hold out any

longer, it was necessary that they should be married. But when

they were ready for the wedding, the youngest bride said to the

King:

"Allow me, my father, to go and give alms to the beggars."

He gave her leave, and she went and began bestowing alms

upon them, and examining them closely. And when she had

come to one of them, and was going to give him some money,

she caught sight of the ring which she had given to the Prince

in the other world, and her sisters' rings too--for it really was

he. So she seized him by the hand, and brought him into the

hall, and said to the King:

"Here is he who brought us out of the other world. His

brothers forbade us to say that he was alive, threatening to slay

us if we did."

Then the King was wroth with those sons, and punished

them as he thought best. And afterwards three weddings were

celebrated.

  [The conclusion of this story is somewhat obscure.

  Most of the variants represent the Prince as forgiving

  his brothers, and allowing them to marry two of the

  three princesses, but the present version appears to

  keep closer to its original, in which the prince

  doubtless married all three. With this story may be

  compared: Grimm, No. 166, "Der starke Hans," and No.

  91, "Dat Erdmänneken." See also vol. iii. p. 165,

  where a reference is given to the Hungarian story in

  Gaal, No. 5--Dasent, No. 55, "The Big Bird Dan," and

  No. 56, "Soria Moria Castle" (Asbjörnsen and Moe, Nos.

  3 and 2. A somewhat similar story, only the palaces

  are in the air, occurs in Asbjörnsen's "Ny Samling,"

  No. 72)--Campbell's "Tales of the West Highlands," No.

  58--Schleicher's "Litauische Märchen," No. 38--The

  Polish story, Wojcicki, Book iii. No. 6, in which

  Norka is replaced by a witch who breaks the windows of

  a church, and is wounded, in falcon-shape, by the

  youngest brother--Hahn, No. 70, in which a Drakos, as

  a cloud, steals golden apples, a story closely

  resembling the Russian skazka. See also No. 26, very

  similar to which is the Servian Story in "Vuk

  Karajich," No. 2--and a very interesting Tuscan story

  printed for the first time by A. de Gubernatis,

  "Zoological Mythology," vol. ii. p. 187. See also

  ibid. p. 391.



  But still more important than these are the parallels

  offered by Indian fiction. Take, for instance, the

  story of Sringabhuja, in chap. xxxix. of book vii. of

  the "Kathásaritságara." In it the elder sons of a

  certain king wish to get rid of their younger

  half-brother. One day a Rákshasa appears in the form

  of a gigantic crane. The other princes shoot at it in

  vain, but the youngest wounds it, and then sets off in

  pursuit of it, and of the valuable arrow which is

  fixed in it. After long wandering he comes to a castle

  in a forest. There he finds a maiden who tells him she

  is the daughter of the Rákshasa whom, in the form of a

  crane, he has wounded. She at once takes his part

  against her demon father, and eventually flies with

  him to his own country. The perils which the fugitives

  have to encounter will be mentioned in the remarks on

  Skazka XIX. See Professor Brockhaus's summary of the

  story in the "Berichte der phil. hist. Classe der K.

  Sächs. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften," 1861, pp.

  223-6. Also Professor Wilson's version in his "Essays

  on Sanskrit Literature," vol. ii. pp. 134-5.



  In two other stories in the same collection the hero

  gives chase to a boar of gigantic size. It takes

  refuge in a cavern into which he follows it. Presently

  he finds himself in a different world, wherein he

  meets a beauteous maiden who explains everything to

  him. In the first of these two stories the lady is the

  daughter of a Rákshasa, who is invulnerable except in

  the palm of the left hand, for which reason, our hero,

  Chandasena has been unable to wound him when in his

  boar disguise. She instructs Chandasena how to kill

  her father, who accordingly falls a victim to a

  well-aimed shaft. (Brockhaus's "Mährchensammlung des

  Somadeva Bhatta," 1843, vol. i. pp. 110-13). In the

  other story, the lady turns out to be a princess whom

  "a demon with fiery eyes" had carried off and

  imprisoned. She tells the hero, Saktideva, that the

  demon has just died from a wound inflicted upon him,

  while transformed into a boar, by a bold archer.

  Saktideva informs her that he is that archer.

  Whereupon she immediately requests him to marry her

  (ibid. vol. ii. p. 175). In both stories the boar is

  described as committing great ravages in the upper

  world until the hero attacks it.]

The Adventures of a prince, the youngest of three brothers, who has

been lowered into the underground world or who has ascended into an

enchanted upper realm, form the theme of numerous skazkas, several of

which are variants of the story of Norka. The prince's elder brothers

almost always attempt to kill him, when he is about to ascend from the

gulf or descend from the steeps which separate him from them. In one

instance, the following excuse is offered for their conduct. The hero

has killed a Snake in the underground world, and is carrying its head

on a lance, when his brothers begin to hoist him up. "His brothers

were frightened at the sight of that head and thinking the Snake

itself was coming, they let Ivan fall back into the pit."[90] But this

apology for their behavior seems to be due to the story-teller's

imagination. In some instances their unfraternal conduct may be

explained in the following manner. In oriental tales the hero is often

the son of a king's youngest wife, and he is not unnaturally hated by

his half-brothers, the sons of an older queen, whom the hero's mother

has supplanted in their royal father's affections. Accordingly they do

their best to get rid of him. Thus, in one of the Indian stories which

correspond to that of Norka, the hero's success at court "excited the

envy and jealousy of his brothers [doubtless half-brothers], and they

were not satisfied until they had devised a plan to effect his

removal, and, as they hoped, accomplish his destruction."[91] We know

also that "Israel loved Joseph more than all his children," because he

was the son "of his old age," and the result was that "when his

brethren [who were only his half-brothers] saw that their father loved

him more than all his brethren, they hated him."[92] When such tales

as these came west in Christian times, their references to polygamy

were constantly suppressed, and their distinctions between brothers

and half-brothers disappeared. In the same way the elder and jealous

wife, who had behaved with cruelty in the original stories to the

offspring of her rival, often became turned, under Christian

influences, into a stepmother who hated her husband's children by a

previous marriage.

There may, however, be a mythological explanation of the behavior of

the two elder brothers. Professor de Gubernatis is of opinion that "in

the Vedic hymns, Tritas, the third brother, and the ablest as well as

best, is persecuted by his brothers," who, "in a fit of jealousy, on

account of his wife, the aurora, and the riches she brings with her

from the realm of darkness, the cistern or well [into which he has

been lowered], detain their brother in the well,"[93] and he compares

this form of the myth with that which it assumes in the following

Hindoo tradition. "Three brothers, Ekata (i.e. the first), Dwita

(i.e. the second) and Trita (i.e. the third) were travelling in

a desert, and being distressed with thirst, came to a well, from which

the youngest, Trita, drew water and gave it to his brothers; in

requital, they drew him into the well, in order to appropriate his

property and having covered the top with a cart-wheel, left him in the

well. In this extremity he prayed to the gods to extricate him, and by

their favor he made his escape."[94] This myth may, perhaps, be the

germ from which have sprung the numerous folk-tales about the

desertion of a younger brother in some pit or chasm, into which his

brothers have lowered him.[95]

It may seem more difficult to account for the willingness of Norka's

three sisters to aid in his destruction--unless, indeed, the whole

story be considered to be mythological, as its Indian equivalents

undoubtedly are. But in many versions of the same tale the difficulty

does not arise. The princesses of the copper, silver, and golden

realms, are usually represented as united by no ties of consanguinity

with the snake or other monster whom the hero comes to kill. In the

story of "Usuinya,"[96] for instance, there appears to be no

relationship between these fair maidens and the "Usuinya-Bird," which

steals the golden apples from a monarch's garden and is killed by his

youngest son Ivan. That monster is not so much a bird as a flying

dragon. "This Usuinya-bird is a twelve-headed snake," says one of the

fair maidens. And presently it arrives--its wings stretching afar,

while along the ground trail its moustaches [usui, whence its name].

In a variant of the same story in another collection,[97] the part of

Norka is played by a white wolf. In that of Ivan Suchenko[98] it is

divided among three snakes who have stolen as many princesses. For the

snake is much given to abduction, especially when he appears under the

terrible form of "Koshchei, the Deathless."

Koshchei is merely one of the many incarnations of the dark spirit

which takes so many monstrous shapes in the folk-tales of the class

with which we are now dealing. Sometimes he is described as altogether

serpent-like in form; sometimes he seems to be of a mixed nature,

partly human and partly ophidian, but in some of the stories he is

apparently framed after the fashion of a man. His name is by some

mythologists derived from kost', a bone whence comes a verb

signifying to become ossified, petrified, or frozen; either because he

is bony of limb, or because he produces an effect akin to freezing or

petrifaction.[99]

He is called "Immortal" or "The Deathless,"[100] because of his

superiority to the ordinary laws of existence. Sometimes, like Baldur,

he cannot be killed except by one substance; sometimes his

"death"--that is, the object with which his life is indissolubly

connected--does not exist within his body. Like the vital centre of

"the giant who had no heart in his body" in the well-known Norse tale,

it is something extraneous to the being whom it affects, and until it

is destroyed he may set all ordinary means of annihilation at

defiance. But this is not always the case, as may be learnt from one

of the best of the skazkas in which he plays a leading part, the

history of--