PLEASE SHARE WITH FAMILY
and FRIENDS!
I.
ONCE upon a beautiful
summer night the men were watching their horses in the meadow. And as they
watched, they fell asleep. And as they slept, the fairies flew out of the
clouds to have some sport with the horses, as is the fairies’ way. Each fairy
caught a horse, mounted it, and then whipped it with her golden hair, urging it
round and round the dewy meadow.
Among the fairies there
was one quite young and tiny, called Curlylocks, who had come down to earth
from the clouds for the first time that night.
Curlylocks thought it
lovely to ride through the night like a whirlwind. And it so happened that she
had got hold of the most spirited horse of all—a Black—small, but fierce as
fire. The Black galloped round and round with the other horses, but he was the
swiftest of all. Soon he was all in a lather of foam.
But Curlylocks wanted to
ride faster still. She bent down and pinched the Black’s right ear. The horse
started, reared, and then bolted straight ahead, leaving behind the rest of the
horses, the meadow and all, as he flew away like the wind with Curlylocks into
the wide, wide world.
Curlylocks thoroughly
enjoyed her lightning ride. The Black went like the wind, by field and by
river, by meadow and mountain, over dale and hill. “Good gracious! what a lot
of things there are in the world!” thought Curlylocks, full of delight as she
looked at all the pretty sights. But what pleased her best was when they came
through a country where there were mountains all covered with glorious forests,
and at the foot of the mountains two golden fields like two great gold
kerchiefs, and in the midst of them two white villages, like two white doves,
and a little further on a great sheet of water.
But the Black would not
stop, neither there nor anywhere, but rushed on and on as if he were possessed.
So the Black carried
Curlylocks far and far away till at last they came to a great plain, with a
cold wind blowing over it. The Black galloped into the plain, and there was
nothing there but yellow sand, neither trees nor grass, and the further they
went into that great waste, the colder it grew. But how large that plain is, I
cannot tell you, for the good reason that the man does not live who could cross
it.
The Black ran on with Curlylocks for seven
days and seven nights. The seventh day, just before sunrise, they reached the
centre of the plain, and in the centre of the plain they found the ruinous
walls of the terribly great city of Frosten, and there it is always bitterly
cold.
As the Black raced up to
the ancient gates of Frosten, Curlylocks threw her magic veil on the wall, and
so caught hold of the wall. The Black galloped away from under her, and so
continued his wild career up to his old age to and fro between the huge walls
of Frosten, till at last he found the northern gate and galloped out again into
the plain—God knows whither!
But Curlylocks came down
from the wall and began to walk about the city, and it was cold as cold! Her
magic veil, without which she could not fly among the clouds, she wound about
her shoulders, for she took great care of it. And so Curlylocks walked and
walked about the city of Frosten, and all the time she felt as if she must come
upon something very wonderful in this city, which was so marvellous and so
great. However, nothing did she see but only great crumbling walls, and nothing
did she hear but now and again a stone cracking with the cold.
Suddenly, just as
Curlylocks had turned the corner of the very biggest wall, she saw, fast asleep
at the foot of the wall, a huge man, bigger than the biggest oak in the biggest
forest. The man was dressed in a huge cloak of coarse linen, and the strap he
wore for a belt was five fathoms long. His head was as big as the biggest
barrel, and his beard was like a shock of corn. He was so big, that man, you
might have thought there was a church tower fallen down beside the wall!
This giant was called
Reygoch, and he lived at Frosten. All he did was to count the stones of the
city of Frosten. He could never have finished counting them but for that huge
head of his, as big as a barrel. But he counted and counted—he had counted for
a thousand years, and had already counted thirty walls and five gates of the
city.
When Curlylocks spied
Reygoch, she clasped her hands and wondered. She never thought there could be
such an immense creature in the world.
So Curlylocks sat down by
Reygoch’s ear (and Reygoch’s ear was as big as the whole of Curlylocks), and
called down his ear:
“Aren’t you cold, daddy?”
Reygoch woke up, laughed,
and looked at Curlylocks.
“Cold? I should think I
was cold,” answered Reygoch, and his voice was as deep as distant thunder.
Reygoch’s big nose was all red with the cold, and his hair and beard were all
thick with hoar-frost.
“Dear me!” said
Curlylocks, “you’re such a big man, and you aren’t going to build yourself a
roof to keep out the cold?”
“Why should I?” said
Reygoch, and laughed again. “The sun will be out presently.”
Reygoch heaved himself up
so as to sit. He sat up. He clapped his left shoulder with his right hand, and
his right shoulder he clapped with the left hand, so as to beat out the
hoar-frost; and the hoar-frost came off each shoulder as if it were snow
slipping off a roof!
“Look out! look out,
daddy! you’ll smother me!” cried Curlylocks. But Reygoch could scarcely hear
her, because it was a long way from Curlylocks to his ear, so big was he when
he sat up.
So Reygoch lifted
Curlylocks on to his shoulder, told her his name and his business, and she told
him how she had come.
“And here comes the sun,”
said Reygoch, and pointed for Curlylocks to see.
Curlylocks looked, and
there was the sun rising, but so pale and feeble, as if there were no one for
him to warm.
“Well, you are a silly,
Reygoch!” said Curlylocks—“you are really silly to live here and spend your
life counting these tiresome stones of Frosten. Come along, Reygoch, and see
how beautiful the world is, and find something more sensible to do.”
Now it had never occurred
to Reygoch to want a finer home for himself than Frosten city, nor had he ever
thought that there might be better work than his in the world. Reygoch always
thought, “I was meant to count the stones of Frosten,” and had never asked for
anything better.
Curlylocks, however, gave
him no peace, but persuaded him to come out and see the world with her.
“I’ll take you to a
lovely country,” said Curlylocks, “where there is an ancient forest, and beside
the forest two golden fields.”
Curlylocks talked for a
long time. And old Reygoch had never had anybody to talk to, and so he couldn’t
resist persuasion.
“Well, let’s go!” said
he.
Curlylocks was mightily
pleased with this.
But now they had to
contrive something, so that Reygoch could carry Curlylocks, because Reygoch
himself had nothing.
So Curlylocks drew out
from her bosom a little bag of pearls. It was her mother who had given
Curlylocks these pearls before allowing her to go down to earth, and told her:
“If you ever should need anything, just throw down a pearl, and it will turn
into whatever you want. Be very careful of those pearls, because there are so
many things in the world that you will want more and more as you go on.”
Curlylocks took out a
tiny seed-pearl, threw it down, and lo, before their eyes there grew a little
basket, just as big as Curlylocks, and the basket had a loop attached, just big
enough to fit Reygoch’s ear.
Curlylocks jumped into
the basket; and Reygoch picked up the basket and hung it on his ear like an
ear-ring!
Whenever Reygoch laughed,
whenever he sneezed or shook his head, Curlylocks rocked as if she were in a
swing; and she thought it a capital way of travelling.
So Reygoch started to
walk, and had already taken a ten-yard stride, when Curlylocks stopped him, and
begged:
“Couldn’t we go
underground, perhaps, Reygoch dear, so that I might see what there is under the
earth?”
“Why not?” answered
Reygoch; for he could break into the earth as easy as fun, only it had never
entered his head to look what might be underground.
But Curlylocks wanted to
know everything about everything, and so they agreed to travel underground
until they should arrive under the forest by the golden fields, and there they
would come up.
When they had settled
that, Reygoch began to break up the earth. He lifted up his great feet and
stamped for the first time, and at that the whole of the great city of Frosten
shook and a great many walls tumbled down. Reygoch raised his feet a second
time and stamped again, and the whole plain quaked. Reygoch raised his feet a
third time and stamped, and lo, half the world trembled, the solid earth gaped
under Reygoch, and Reygoch and Curlylocks fell into the hole and down under the
earth.
When they got there, they
found the earth all honeycombed with pillars and passages on every side, and
heaven alone knew where they all led to. And they could hear waters rushing and
the moaning of the winds.
They followed one of the
passages, and for awhile they had light from the hole through which they had
fallen. But as they went on it grew darker and darker—black darkness, such as
there is nowhere save in the bowels of the earth.
Reygoch tramped calmly on
in the dark. With his great hands he felt his way from pillar to pillar.
But Curlylocks was
frightened by the great darkness.
She clung to Reygoch’s
ear and cried: “It’s dark, Reygoch dear!”
“Well, and why not?”
returned Reygoch. “The dark didn’t come to us. It’s we have come to it.”
Then Curlylocks got
cross, because Reygoch never minded anything and she had expected great things
from so huge a man.
“I should be in a nice
fix with you but for my pearls,” said Curlylocks quite angrily.
Then she threw down
another pearl, and a tiny lantern grew in her hand, bright as if it were lit
with gold. The darkness crept back deeper into the earth, and the light shone
far through the underground passages.
Curlylocks was delighted
with her lantern, because it showed up all the marvels which had been swallowed
by the earth in days of old. In one place she saw lordly castles, with doors
and windows all fretted with gold and framed in red marble. In another place
were warriors’ weapons, slender-barrelled muskets and heavy scimitars studded
with gems and precious stones. In a third place she saw long-buried treasures,
golden dishes and silver goblets full of gold ducats, and the Emperor’s very
crown of gold three times refined.
All these treasures had
been swallowed up by God’s will, and it is God’s secret why so much treasure
should lie there undisturbed.
But Curlylocks was quite
dazzled with all these marvels; and instead of going straight ahead by the way
they had settled upon, she begged Reygoch to put her down so that she might
play about a little and admire all the strange things and gaze upon the wonders
of God’s secret.
So Reygoch set Curlylocks
down, and Curlylocks took her little lantern and ran to the castles, and to the
weapons, and to the treasure-hoards. And lest she might lose her little bag of
pearls while she was playing, she laid it down beside a pillar.
As for Reygoch, he sat
down to rest not far off.
Curlylocks began to play
with the treasures; she looked at the beautiful things and rummaged among them.
With her tiny hands she scattered the golden ducats, examined the goblets
chased in silver, and put upon her head the crown of gold three times refined.
She played about, looked round and admired, and at last caught sight of a very
slender little ivory staff propped up against a mighty pillar.
But it was just that
slender staff that kept the mighty pillar from collapsing, because the pillar
was already completely hollowed out by the water. And therefore God had caused
that little staff to fall down there, and the staff held up the pillar under
the earth.
But Curlylocks wondered:
“Why is that little staff
just there?” And she went and picked up the staff to look at it.
But no sooner had
Curlylocks taken the staff and moved it than the subterranean passages
re-echoed with a terrible rumbling noise. The great pillar trembled, swayed and
crashed down amid a whole mountain of falling earth, closing and blocking up
the path between Reygoch and Curlylocks. They could neither see nor hear one
another, nor could they reach one another....
There was the poor little
fairy Curlylocks caught in the bowels of the earth! She was buried alive in
that vast grave, and perhaps would never again see those golden fields for
which she had set out, and all because she would not go straight on by the way
they had intended, but would loiter and turn aside to the right and to the left
to pry into God’s secrets!
Curlylocks wept and
cried, and tried to get to Reygoch. But she found that there was no way
through, and that her plight was hopeless; and as for the bag of pearls, which
might have helped her, it was buried under the landslide.
When Curlylocks realised
this she stopped crying, for she was proud, and she thought: “There is no help
for it, and I must die. Reygoch won’t come to my rescue, because his wits are
too slow even to help himself, let alone to make him remember to help me. So
there is nothing for it, and I must die.”
So Curlylocks prepared
for death. But in case folk should ever find her in her grave she wanted them
to know that she came of royal blood. So she set the crown of gold three times
refined upon her head, took the ivory staff in her hand, and lay down to die.
There was no one beside Curlylocks except her little lantern, burning as if it
were lit with gold; and as Curlylocks began to grow cold and stiff, so the
lantern burned low and dim.
Reygoch was really an old
stupid. When the pillar crashed down and there was the big landslide between
him and Curlylocks he never moved, but sat still in the dark. Thus he sat for
quite a long time, before it occurred to him to go and find out what had
happened.
He felt his way in the
dark to the spot where Curlylocks had been, groped about, and realised that the
earth had subsided there and that the passage was indeed blocked.
“Eh, but that way is
choked up now,” considered Reygoch. And nothing else could he think of, but
turned round, left the mound of fallen earth and Curlylocks beyond it, and went
back by the road they had travelled from Frosten city.
Thus old Reygoch went his
way, pillar by pillar. He had already gone a goodish bit; but there was all the
time something worrying him. Reygoch himself couldn’t imagine what it was that
worried him.
He arranged the strap
around his waist—perhaps it had been too tight; and then he stretched his
arm—perhaps his arm had gone to sleep. Yet it was neither the one nor the
other, but something else that worried. Reygoch wondered what in the world it
could be. He wondered, and as he wondered he shook his head.
And as Reygoch shook his
head, the little basket swung at his ear. And when Reygoch felt how light the
basket was, and that there was no Curlylocks inside, a bitter pang shot through
his heart and breast, and—simpleton though he was—he knew well enough that he
was grieved because he missed Curlylocks, and he realised also that he ought to
save her.
It had taken Reygoch a
lot of trouble to think out all that; but once he had thought it out, he turned
like the wind and flew back to the place where the landslide was, to find
Curlylocks behind the heap of earth. He flew, and arrived just in time. Reygoch
burrowed away with both hands, and in a little while he had burrowed a big
hole, so that he could see Curlylocks lying there, the crown of fine gold on
her head. She was already growing cold and rigid, with her little lantern
beside her, and the flame of it as feeble as the tiniest little glow-worm.
If Reygoch had cried out
in his grief the earth would have rocked, and the little lantern would have
gone out altogether—even the little glow-worm light by the side of Curlylocks
would have died away.
But Reygoch’s throat was
all tight with pain, so that he could not cry out. He put out his great big
hand and gently picked up poor Curlylocks, who was already quite cold, and
warmed her between the hollowed palms of his huge hands as you would warm a
starved dicky-bird in winter. And lo! in a little while Curlylocks moved her
little head, and at once the lantern burned a little brighter; and then
Curlylocks moved her arm, and the lantern burned brighter still. At last Curlylocks
opened her eyes, and the lantern burned as brightly as if its flame were pure
gold!
Then Curlylocks jumped to
her feet, caught hold of Reygoch’s beard, and they both of them cried for pure
joy. Reygoch’s tears were as big as pears and Curlylocks’ as tiny as
millet-seed, but except for size they were both the same sort; and from that
moment these two were mightily fond of one another.
When they had finished
their cry, Curlylocks found her pearls, and then they went on. But they touched
no more of the things they saw underground, neither the sunken ships with their
hoards of treasure, which had worked their way down from the bottom of the sea,
nor the red coral, nor the yellow amber which twined round the underground
pillars. They touched nothing, but went straight along by the way that would
take them to the golden fields.
When they had gone on
thus for a long time, Curlylocks asked Reygoch to hold her up; and when he did
so, Curlylocks took a handful of earth from above her head.
She took the earth,
looked at her hand, and there, among the soil, she found leaves and fibres.
“Here we are, daddy,
under the forest beside the golden fields,” said Curlylocks. “Let’s hurry up
and get out.”
So Reygoch stretched
himself and began to break through the earth with his head.
II.
And indeed they were
under the forest, just underneath a wooded glen between the two villages and
the two counties. No one ever came to this glen but the herd boys and girls
from both villages and both counties.
Now there was bitter
strife between the two villages—strife over the threshing-floors, and the
pastures, and the mills, and the timber-felling, and most of all over the staff
of headmanship, which one of the villages had long claimed as belonging to it
by rights, and the other would not give up. And so these two villages were at
enmity with one another.
But the herd boys and
girls of both villages were just simple young folk, who understood nothing
about the rights of their elders, and cared less, but met every day on the
boundary between the two villages and the two counties. Their flocks mingled
and fed together, while the boys played games, and over their games would often
be late in bringing the sheep home of an evening.
For this the poor boys
and girls would be soundly rated and scolded in both villages. But in one of
the villages there was a great-grandfather and a great-grandmother who could
remember all that had ever happened in either village, and they said: “Leave
the children alone. A better harvest will spring from their childish games than
ever from your wheat in the fields.”
So the shepherds kept on
coming, as before, with their sheep to the glen, and in time the parents
stopped bothering about what the children did.
And so it was on the day
when Reygoch broke through the earth at that very spot. The boys and girls
happened to be all gathered together under the biggest oak, getting ready to go
home. One was tying up his shoes, another fixing a thong to a stick, and the
girls were collecting the sheep. All of a sudden they heard a dreadful thumping
in the earth right underneath their feet! There was a thud, then a second, and
at the third thud the earth gaped, and up there came, right in the midst of the
shepherds, a fearsome large head as big as a barrel, with a beard like a shock
of corn, and the beard still bristling with hoar-frost from Frosten city!
The boys and girls all
screamed with fright and fell down in a dead faint—not so much because of the
head as big as a barrel, but because of the beard, that looked for all the
world like a shock of corn!
So the shepherds fainted
away—all but young Lilio, who was the handsomest and cleverest among the lads
of both villages and both counties.
Lilio kept his feet, and
went close up to see what sort of monster it might be.
“Don’t be afraid,
children,” said Lilio to the shepherds. “The Lord never created that monstrous
giant for evil, else he would have killed half the world by now.”
So Lilio walked boldly up
to Reygoch, and Reygoch lifted the basket with Curlylocks down from his ear and
set it on the ground.
“Come—oh come quickly,
boys!” cried Lilio. “There is a little girl with him, little and lovely as a
star!”
The herd boys and girls
got up and began to peep from behind each other at Curlylocks; and those who
had at first been the most frightened were now the foremost in coming up to
Curlylocks, because, you see, they were always quickest in everything.
No sooner had the herd
boys and girls seen dear little Curlylocks than they loved her. They helped her
out of her basket, led her to where the turf was softest, and fell to admiring
her lovely robes, which were light as gossamer and blue as the sky, and her
hair, which was shining and soft as the morning light; but most of all they
admired her fairy veil, for she would wave it just for a moment, and then rise
from the grass and float in the air.
The herd boys and girls
and Curlylocks danced in a ring together, and played all kinds of games.
Curlylocks’ little feet twinkled for pure joy, her eyes laughed, and so did her
lips, because she had found companions who liked the same things as she did.
Then Curlylocks brought
out her little bag of pearls to give presents and pleasure to her new friends.
She threw down a pearl, and a little tree grew up in their midst, all decked
with coloured ribbons, silk kerchiefs and red necklaces for the girls. She
threw down a second pearl, and from all parts of the forest came forth haughty
peacocks; they stalked and strutted, they flew up and away, shedding their
glorious feathers all over the turf, so that the grass fairly sparkled with
them. And the herd boys stuck the feathers in their caps and doublets. Yet
another pearl did Curlylocks throw out, and from a lofty branch there dropped a
golden swing with silken ropes; and when the boys and girls got on the swing,
it swooped and stooped as light as a swallow, and as gently as the grand barge
of the Duke of Venice.
The children shouted for
joy, and Curlylocks threw out all the pearls in her bag one after another,
never thinking that she ought to save them; because Curlylocks liked nothing in
the world better than lovely games and pretty songs. And so she spent her
pearls down to the last little seed pearl, though heaven alone knew how badly
she would need them soon, both she and her new friends.
“I shall never leave you
anymore,” cried Curlylocks merrily. And the herd boys and girls clapped their
hands and threw up their caps for joy over her words.
Only Lilio had not joined
in their games, because he was rather sad and worried that day. He stayed near
Reygoch, and from there he watched Curlylocks in all her loveliness, and all
the pretty magic she made there in the forest.
Meantime Reygoch had come
out of his hole. Out he came and stood up among the trees of the forest, and as
he stood there his head rose above the hundred-year-old forest, so terribly big
was Reygoch.
Over the forest looked
Reygoch, and out into the plain.
The sun had already set,
and the sky was all crimson. In the plain you could see the two golden fields
spread out like two gold kerchiefs, and in the midst of the fields two villages
like two white doves. A little way beyond the two villages flowed the mighty
River Banewater, and all along the river rose great grass-grown dykes; and on
the dykes you could see herds and their keepers moving.
“Well, well!” said
Reygoch, “and to think that I have spent a thousand years in Frosten city, in
that desert, when there is so much beauty in the world!” And Reygoch was so
delighted with looking into the plain that he just stood there with his great
head as big as a barrel turning from right to left, like a huge scarecrow
nodding above the tree-tops.
Presently Lilio called to
him:
“Sit down, daddy, for
fear the elders of the villages should see you.”
Reygoch sat down, and the
two started talking, and Lilio told Reygoch why he was so sad that day.
“A very wicked thing is
going to happen to-day,” said Lilio. “I overheard the elders of our village
talking last night, and this is what they said: ‘Let us pierce the dyke along
the River Banewater. The river will widen the hole, the dyke will fall, and the
water will flood the enemy village; it will drown men and women, flood the
graveyard and the fields, till the water will be level above them, and nothing
but a lake to show where the enemy village has been. But our fields are higher,
and our village lies on a height, and so no harm will come to us.’ And then
they really went out with a great ram to pierce the dyke secretly and at dead
of night. But, daddy,” continued Lilio, “I know that our fields are not so high,
and I know that the water will overflow them too, and before the night is over
there will be a lake where our two villages used to be. And that is why I am so
sad.”
They were still talking
when a terrible noise and clamour arose from the plain.
“There!” cried Lilio,
“the dreadful thing has happened!”
Reygoch drew himself up,
picked up Lilio, and the two looked out over the plain. It was a sad sight to
see! The dyke was crumbling, and the mighty Black Banewater rolling in two arms
across the beautiful fields. One arm rolled towards the one village, and the
second arm towards the other village. Animals were drowning, the golden fields
disappeared below the flood. Above the graves the crosses were afloat, and both
villages rang with cries and shouting. For in both villages the elders had gone
out to the threshing-floors with cymbals, drums and fifes, and there they were
drumming and piping away each to spite the other village, so crazed were they
with malice, while over and above that din the village dogs howled dismally,
and the women and children wept and wailed.
“Daddy,” cried Lilio,
“why have I not your hands to stop the water?”
Terrified and bewildered
by the dreadful clamour in the plain, the herd boys and girls crowded round
Reygoch and Lilio.
When Curlylocks heard
what was the matter she called out quick and sprightly, as befits a little
fairy:
“Come on, Reygoch—come on
and stop the water!”
“Yes, yes, let’s go!”
cried the herd boys of both villages and both counties, as they wept and sobbed
without stopping. “Come on, Reygoch, and take us along too!”
Reygoch stooped, gathered
up Lilio and Curlylocks (who was still carrying her lantern) in his right hand,
and all the rest of the herd boys and girls in his left, and then Reygoch raced
with ten-fathom strides through the forest clearing and down into the plain.
Behind him ran the sheep, bleating with terror. And so they reached the plain.
Through fog and twilight
ran Reygoch with the children in his arms and the terrified flocks at his heels
in frantic flight—all running towards the dyke. And out to meet them flowed the
Black Banewater, killing and drowning as it flowed. It is terribly strong, is
that water. Stronger than Reygoch? Who knows? Will it sweep away Reygoch, too?
Will it drown those poor herd boys and girls also, and must the dear little
Fairy Curlylocks die—and she as lovely as a star?
So Reygoch ran on across
the meadow, which was still dry, and came all breathless to the dyke, where
there was a great breach, through which the river was pouring with frightful
force.
“Stop it up, Reygoch—stop
it up!” wailed the boys and girls.
Not far from the dyke
there was a little mound in the plain.
“Put us on that mound,”
cried Curlylocks briskly.
Reygoch set down Lilio
and Curlylocks and the herd boys and girls on the hillock, and the sheep and
lambs crowded round them. Already the hillock was just an island in the middle
of the water.
But Reygoch took one
mighty stride into the water and then lay down facing the dyke, stopping up the
breach with his enormous chest. For a little while the water ceased to flow;
but it was so terribly strong that nothing on earth could stop it. The water
pressed forward; it eddied round Reygoch’s shoulders; it broke through under
him, over him, about him—everywhere—and rolled on again over the plain. Reygoch
stretched out both arms and piled up the earth in great handfuls; but as fast
as he piled it up, the water carried it away.
And in the plain the
water kept on rising higher and higher; fields, villages, cattle,
threshing-floors, not one of them could be seen any more. Of both villages, the
roofs and church steeples were all that showed above the flood.
Even around the hillock
where the herd boys and girls were standing with Lilio and Curlylocks the flood
was rising higher and higher. The poor young things were weeping and crying,
some for their mothers, others for their brothers and sisters, and some for
their homes and gardens; because they saw that both villages had perished, and
not a soul saved—and the water rising about them, too!
So they crowded up higher
and higher upon the hillock; they huddled together around Lilio and Curlylocks,
who were standing side by side in the midst of their friends.
Lilio stood still and
white as marble; but Curlylocks’ eyes shone, and she held up her lantern
towards Reygoch to give him light for his work. Curlylocks’ veil rose and
fluttered in the night wind and hovered above the water, as though the little
fairy were about to fly away and vanish from among all these terrors.
“Curlylocks! Curlylocks!
don’t go! Don’t leave us!” wailed the herd boys, to whom it seemed as if there
were an angel with them while they could look upon Curlylocks.
“I’m not going—I’m not
going away!” cried Curlylocks. But her veil fluttered, as if it would carry her
away of its own accord, over the water and up into the clouds.
Suddenly they heard a
scream. The water had risen and caught one of the girls by the hem of her skirt
and was washing her away. Lilio stooped just in time, seized the girl, and
pulled her back on to the hillock.
“We must tie ourselves
together,” cried the herd boys; “we must be tied each to the other, or we shall
perish.”
“Here, children—here!”
cried Curlylocks, who had a kind and pitiful heart.
Quickly she stripped her
magic veil off her shoulders and gave it to the herd girls. They tore the veil
into strips, knotted the strips into long ropes, and bound themselves together,
each to other, round Lilio and Curlylocks. And round the shepherds bleated the
poor sheep in terror of being drowned.
But Curlylocks was now
among these poor castaways, no better off than the rest of them. Her pearls she
had wasted on toys, and her magic veil she had given away and torn up out of
the goodness of her heart, and now she could no longer fly, nor save herself
out of this misery.
But Lilio loved
Curlylocks better than anything else in the world, and when the water was
already up to his feet he called:
“Don’t be afraid,
Curlylocks! I will save you and hold you up!” And he held up Curlylocks in his
arms.
With one hand Curlylocks
clung round Lilio’s neck, and with the other she held up her little lantern
aloft towards Reygoch.
And Reygoch, lying on his
chest in the water, was all the time steadily fighting the flood. Right and
left of Reygoch rose the ruins of the dyke like two great horns. Reygoch’s
beard was touzled, his shoulders were bleeding. Yet he could not stop the
Banewater, and the flood round the hillock was rising and rising to drown the
poor remnant there. And now it was night—yea, midnight.
All of a sudden a thought
flashed through Curlylocks, and through all the sobbing and crying she laughed
aloud as she called to Reygoch:
“Reygoch, you old
simpleton! why don’t you sit between these two horns of the dyke? Why don’t you
dam the flood with your shoulders?”
The herd boys and girls
stopped wailing at once. So dumbfounded were they at the idea that not one of
them had thought of that before!
“Uhuhu!” was all you
could hear, and that was Reygoch laughing. And when Reygoch laughs, mind you,
it’s no joke! All the water round him boiled and bubbled as he shook with
laughter over his own stupidity!
Then Reygoch stood up,
faced about, and—in a twinkling—he sat down between those two horns!
And then happened the
most wonderful thing of all! For the Black Banewater stood as though you had
rolled a wall into the breach! It stood, and could not rise above Reygoch’s
shoulders, but followed its usual course, as before, the whole current behind
Reygoch’s back. And surely that was a most marvellous rescue!
The boys and girls were saved
from the worst of the danger; and Reygoch, sitting comfortably, took up earth
in handfuls and all slow-and-surely rebuilt the dyke under himself and on
either hand. He began in the middle of the night, and when the dawn broke, the
job was finished. And just as the sun rose, Reygoch got up from the dyke with
his work done, and started combing his beard, which was all caked with mud,
twigs, and little fishes.
But the poor boys and
girls were not yet done with their troubles; for where were they to go, and how
were they to get there? There they stood on the top of the hillock. All around
them was a waste of water. Nothing was to be seen of the two villages but just
a few roofs—and not a soul alive in either. To be sure, the villagers might
have saved themselves if they had taken refuge in their attics. But in both
villages everybody had gone to the threshing-floor with cymbals and fifes to
make merry, so that each could watch the destruction of the other. And when the
water was up to their waists, they were still clanging their cymbals; and when
it was up to their necks, they still blew their fifes for gratified spite. And
so they were drowned, one and all, with their fifes and cymbals—and serve them
right for their malice and uncharitableness!
So the poor children were
left without a soul to cherish or protect them, all houseless and homeless.
“We’re not sparrows, to
live on the housetops,” said the boys sadly, as they saw only the roofs
sticking out of the water, “and we’re not foxes, to live in burrows in the
hills. If someone could clear our villages of the water, we might make shift to
get along somehow, but as it is, we might as well jump into the water with our
flocks and be drowned like the rest, for we have nowhere and no one to turn
to.”
That was a sad plight
indeed, and Reygoch himself was dreadfully sorry for them. But here was an evil
he could in no wise remedy. He looked out over the water and said: “There’s too
much water here for me to bale out or to drink up so as to clear your villages.
Eh, children, what shall I do for you?”
But then up and spoke
Lilio, that was the wisest lad in these parts:
“Reygoch, daddy, if you
cannot drink so much water, the Earth can. Break a hole in the ground, daddy,
and drain off the water into the earth.”
Dearie me! and wasn’t
that great wisdom in a lad no bigger than Reygoch’s finger?
Forthwith Reygoch stamped
on the ground and broke a hole; and the Earth, like a thirsty dragon, began to
drink and to drink, and swallow, and suck down into herself all that mighty
water from off the whole plain. Before long the Earth had gulped down all the
water; villages, fields, and meadows reappeared, ravaged and mud-covered, to be
sure, but with everything in its right place.
The young castaways
cheered up at the sight, but none was so glad as Curlylocks. She clapped her
hands and cried:
“Oh, won’t it be lovely
when the fields all grow golden again and the meadows green!”
But hereupon the herd
boys and girls were all downcast once more, and Lilio said:
“Who will show us how to
till the ground now that not one of our parents is left alive?”
And indeed, far and wide,
there was not a soul alive older than that company of helpless young things in
the midst of the ravaged plain, and none with them but Reygoch, who was so big
and clumsy and simple that he could not turn his head inside one of their
houses, nor did he know anything about ploughing or husbandry.
So they were all in the
dumps once more, and most of all Reygoch, who was so fond of pretty Curlylocks,
and now he could do nothing for her nor her friends!
And, worst of all,
Reygoch was getting horribly homesick for his desolate city of Frosten. This
night he had swallowed mud enough to last him a thousand years, and seen more
than enough of trouble. And so he was just dying to be back in his vast, empty
city, where he had counted the stones in peace for so many hundred years.
So the herd boys were
very crestfallen, and Lilio was crestfallen, and Reygoch the most crestfallen
of all. And really it was sad to look upon all these poor boys and girls,
doomed to perish without their parents and wither like a flower cut off from
its root.
Only Curlylocks looked
gaily about her, right and left, for nothing could damp her good spirits.
Suddenly Curlylocks cried
out:
“Look—oh look! What are
those people? Oh dear, but they must have seen sights and wonders!”
All looked towards the
village, and there, at one of the windows, appeared the heads of an aged
couple—an old man and an old woman. They waved their kerchiefs, they called the
young people by name, and laughed till their wrinkled faces all shone with joy.
They were great-grandfather and great-grandmother, who had been the only
sensible people in the two villages, and had saved themselves by taking refuge
in the attic!
Oh dear! If the children
had seen the sun at his rising and the morning star at that attic window, they
would not have shouted so for joy. The very heavens rang again as they called
out:
“Granny! Grandad!”
They raced to the village
like young whippets, Curlylocks in front, with her golden hair streaming in the
wind, and after them the ewes and lambs. They never stopped till they reached
the village, and there grandfather and grandmother were waiting for them at the
gate. They welcomed them, hugged them, and none of them could find words to
thank God enough for His mercy in giving grandad and grandma so much wisdom as
to make them take refuge in the attic! And that was really a very good thing,
because these were only quite simple villages, where there were no books nor written
records; and who would have reminded the herd boys and girls of the
consequences of wickedness if grandad and grandma had not been spared?
When they had done
hugging each other, they remembered Reygoch. They looked round the plain, but
there was no Reygoch. He was gone—gone all of a sudden, the dear huge
thing—gone like a mouse down its hole.
And Reygoch had indeed
gone like a mouse down its hole. For when grandpa and grandma appeared at the
attic window, Reygoch got a fright such as he had never yet had in his life. He
was terrified at the sight of their furrowed, wrinkled, withered old faces.
“Oh dear! oh dear! what a
lot of trouble these old people must have been through in these parts to have
come to look like that!” thought Reygoch; and in his terror he that very
instant jumped down into the hole through which the Black Banewater had sunk
down, and so ran away back to his desolate Frosten city.
All went well in the
village. Grandad and Grandma taught the young folk, and the young folk ploughed
and sowed. Upon the grandparents’ advice they built just one village, one
threshing-floor, one church, and one graveyard, so that there should be no more
jealousy nor trouble.
All went well; but the
best of all was that in the heart of the village stood a beautiful tower of
mountain marble, and on the top of it they had made a garden, where blossomed
oranges and wild olive. There lived Curlylocks, the lovely fairy, and looked
down upon the land that had been so dear to her from the moment when she first
came to earth.
And of an evening, when
the field work was done, Lilio would lead the herd boys and girls to the tower,
and they would sing songs and dance in a ring in the garden with Curlylocks,
always lovely, gentle, and joyous.
But under the earth
Reygoch once more fell in with the Black Banewater as it roared and burbled
underneath, while he wrestled with it till he forced it deeper and deeper into
the earth, and right down to the bottom of the Pit, so that it might never
again serve the spite and envy of man. And then Reygoch went on to Frosten
city. There he is sitting to this very day, counting the stones and praying the
Lord never again to tempt him away from that vast and desolate spot, which is
the very place for one so big and so simple.
10% of the profit from
the sale of this ebook will be donated to charities
====================
From: CROATIAN TALES OF LONG AGO 6 unique Croatian Fairy
Tales for Children By Ivana Brlić-Mažuranić
ISBN: 9788834171271
URL: https://store.streetlib.com/en/ivana-berlic-mazuranic/croatian-tales-of-long-ago-6-unique-croatian-fairy-tales-for-children
