The Orange Fairy Book (31 page)

Jose did exactly as the horse told him, and everything fell out as the
animal prophesied; so that it was not until they were galloping
breathlessly towards the palace that the princess knew that she was
taken captive. She said nothing, however, but quietly opened her apron
which contained the bran for the chickens, and in a moment it lay
scattered on the ground.

'Oh, I have let fall my bran!' cried she; 'please get down and pick it
up for me.' But Jose only answered:

'We shall find plenty of bran where we are going.' And the horse
galloped on.

They were now passing through a forest, and the princess took out her
handkerchief and threw it upwards, so that it stuck in one of the
topmost branches of a tree.

'Dear me; how stupid! I have let my handkerchief blow away,' said she.
'Will you climb up and get it for me?' But Jose answered:

'We shall find plenty of handkerchiefs where we are going.' And the
horse galloped on.

After the wood they reached a river, and the princess slipped a ring
off her finger and let it roll into the water.

'How careless of me,' gasped she, beginning to sob. 'I have lost my
favourite ring; DO stop for a moment and look if you can see it.' But
Jose answered:

'You will find plenty of rings where you are going.' And the horse
galloped on.

At last they entered the palace gates, and the king's heart bounded
with joy at beholding his beloved Princess Bella-Flor. But the
princess brushed him aside as if he had been a fly, and locked herself
into the nearest room, which she would not open for all his entreaties.

'Bring me the three things I lost on the way, and perhaps I may think
about it,' was all she would say. And, in despair, the king was driven
to take counsel of Jose.

'There is no remedy that I can see,' said his majesty, 'but that you,
who know where they are, should go and bring them back. And if you
return without them I will have you drowned.'

Poor Jose was much troubled at these words. He thought that he had
done all that was required of him, and that his life was safe.
However, he bowed low, and went out to consult his friend the horse.

'Do not vex yourself,' said the horse, when he had heard the story;
'jump up, and we will go and look for the things.' And Jose mounted at
once.

They rode on till they came to the ant-hill, and then the horse asked:

'Would you like to have the bran?'

'What is the use of liking?' answered Jose.

'Well, call the ants, and tell them to fetch it for you; and, if some
of it has been scattered by the wind, to bring in its stead the grains
that were in the cakes you gave them.' Jose listened in surprise. He
did not much believe in the horse's plan; but he could not think of
anything better, so he called to the ants, and bade them collect the
bran as fast as they could.

Then he saw under a tree and waited, while his horse cropped the green
turf.

'Look there!' said the animal, suddenly raising its head; and Jose
looked behind him and saw a little mountain of bran, which he put into
a bag that was hung over his saddle.

'Good deeds bear fruit sooner or later,' observed the horse; 'but mount
again, as we have far to go.'

When they arrived at the tree, they saw the handkerchief fluttering
like a flag from the topmost branch, and Jose's spirits sank again.

'How am I to get that handkerchief?' cried he; 'why I should need
Jacob's ladder!' But the horse answered:

'Do not be frightened; call to the eagle you set free from the net, he
will bring it to you.'

So Jose called to the eagle, and the eagle flew to the top of the tree
and brought back the handkerchief in its beak. Jose thanked him, and
vaulting on his horse they rode on to the river.

A great deal of rain had fallen in the night, and the river, instead of
being clear as it was before, was dark and troubled.

'How am I to fetch the ring from the bottom of this river when I do not
know exactly where it was dropped, and cannot even see it?' asked Jose.
But the horse answered: 'Do not be frightened; call the little fish
whose life you saved, and she will bring it to you.'

So he called to the fish, and the fish dived to the bottom and slipped
behind big stones, and moved little ones with its tail till it found
the ring, and brought it to Jose in its mouth.

Well pleased with all he had done, Jose returned to the palace; but
when the king took the precious objects to Bella-Flor, she declared
that she would never open her door till the bandit who had carried her
off had been fried in oil.

'I am very sorry,' said the king to Jose, 'I really would rather not;
but you see I have no choice.'

While the oil was being heated in the great caldron, Jose went to the
stables to inquire of his friend the horse if there was no way for him
to escape.

'Do not be frightened,' said the horse. 'Get on my back, and I will
gallop till my whole body is wet with perspiration, then rub it all
over your skin, and no matter how hot the oil may be you will never
feel it.'

Jose did not ask any more questions, but did as the horse bade him; and
men wondered at his cheerful face as they lowered him into the caldron
of boiling oil. He was left there till Bella-Flor cried that he must
be cooked enough. Then out came a youth so young and handsome, that
everyone fell in love with him, and Bella-Flor most of all.

As for the old king, he saw that he had lost the game; and in despair
he flung himself into the caldron, and was fried instead of Jose. Then
Jose was proclaimed king, on condition that he married Bella-Flor which
he promised to do the next day. But first he went to the stables and
sought out the horse, and said to him: 'It is to you that I owe my life
and my crown. Why have you done all this for me?'

And the horse answered: 'I am the soul of that unhappy man for whom you
spent all your fortune. And when I saw you in danger of death I begged
that I might help you, as you had helped me. For, as I told you, Good
deeds bear their own fruit!'

(From Cuentos, Oraciones, y Adivinas, por Fernan Caballero.)

Once upon a time there lived a poor fisher who built a hut on the banks
of a stream which, shunning the glare of the sun and the noise of the
towns, flowed quietly past trees and under bushes, listening to the
songs of the birds overhead.

One day, when the fisherman had gone out as usual to cast his nets, he
saw borne towards him on the current a cradle of crystal. Slipping his
net quickly beneath it he drew it out and lifted the silk coverlet.
Inside, lying on a soft bed of cotton, were two babies, a boy and a
girl, who opened their eyes and smiled at him. The man was filled with
pity at the sight, and throwing down his lines he took the cradle and
the babies home to his wife.

The good woman flung up her hands in despair when she beheld the
contents of the cradle.

'Are not eight children enough,' she cried, 'without bringing us two
more? How do you think we can feed them?'

'You would not have had me leave them to die of hunger,' answered he,
'or be swallowed up by the waves of the sea? What is enough for eight
is also enough for ten.'

The wife said no more; and in truth her heart yearned over the little
creatures. Somehow or other food was never lacking in the hut, and the
children grew up and were so good and gentle that, in time, their
foster-parents loved them as well or better than their own, who were
quarrelsome and envious. It did not take the orphans long to notice
that the boys did not like them, and were always playing tricks on
them, so they used to go away by themselves and spend whole hours by
the banks of the river. Here they would take out the bits of bread
they had saved from their breakfasts and crumble them for the birds.
In return, the birds taught them many things: how to get up early in
the morning, how to sing, and how to talk their language, which very
few people know.

But though the little orphans did their best to avoid quarrelling with
their foster- brothers, it was very difficult always to keep the peace.
Matters got worse and worse till, one morning, the eldest boy said to
the twins:

'It is all very well for you to pretend that you have such good
manners, and are so much better than we, but we have at least a father
and mother, while you have only got the river, like the toads and the
frogs.'

The poor children did not answer the insult; but it made them very
unhappy. And they told each other in whispers that they could not stay
there any longer, but must go into the world and seek their fortunes.

So next day they arose as early as the birds and stole downstairs
without anybody hearing them. One window was open, and they crept
softly out and ran to the side of the river. Then, feeling as if they
had found a friend, they walked along its banks, hoping that by- and-by
they should meet some one to take care of them.

The whole of that day they went steadily on without seeing a living
creature, till, in the evening, weary and footsore, they saw before
them a small hut. This raised their spirits for a moment; but the door
was shut, and the hut seemed empty, and so great was their
disappointment that they almost cried. However, the boy fought down
his tears, and said cheerfully:

'Well, at any rate here is a bench where we can sit down, and when we
are rested we will think what is best to do next.'

Then they sat down, and for some time they were too tired even to
notice anything; but by-and-by they saw that under the tiles of the
roof a number of swallows were sitting, chattering merrily to each
other. Of course the swallows had no idea that the children understood
their language, or they would not have talked so freely; but, as it
was, they said whatever came into their heads.

'Good evening, my fine city madam,' remarked a swallow, whose manners
were rather rough and countryfied to another who looked particularly
distinguished. 'Happy, indeed, are the eyes that behold you! Only
think of your having returned to your long-forgotten country friends,
after you have lived for years in a palace!'

'I have inherited this nest from my parents,' replied the other, 'and
as they left it to me I certainly shall make it my home. But,' she
added politely, 'I hope that you and all your family are well?'

'Very well indeed, I am glad to say. But my poor daughter had, a short
time ago, such bad inflammation in her eyes that she would have gone
blind had I not been able to find the magic herb, which cured her at
once.'

'And how is the nightingale singing? Does the lark soar as high as
ever? And does the linnet dress herself as smartly?' But here the
country swallow drew herself up.

'I never talk gossip,' she said severely. 'Our people, who were once
so innocent and well-behaved, have been corrupted by the bad examples
of men. It is a thousand pities.'

'What! innocence and good behaviour are not to be met with among birds,
nor in the country! My dear friend, what are you saying?'

'The truth and nothing more. Imagine, when we returned here, we met
some linnets who, just as the spring and the flowers and the long days
had come, were setting out for the north and the cold? Out of pure
compassion we tried to persuade them to give up this folly; but they
only replied with the utmost insolence.'

'How shocking!' exclaimed the city swallow.

'Yes, it was. And worse than that, the crested lark, that was formerly
so timid and shy, is now no better than a thief, and steals maize and
corn whenever she can find them.'

'I am astonished at what you say.'

'You will be more astonished when I tell you that on my arrival here
for the summer I found my nest occupied by a shameless sparrow! "This
is my nest," I said. "Yours?" he answered, with a rude laugh. "Yes,
mine; my ancestors were born here, and my sons will be born here also."
And at that my husband set upon him and threw him out of the nest. I
am sure nothing of this sort ever happens in a town.'

'Not exactly, perhaps. But I have seen a great deal—if you only knew!'

'Oh! do tell us! do tell us!' cried they all. And when they had
settled themselves comfortably, the city swallow began:

'You must know, then that our king fell in love with the youngest
daughter of a tailor, who was as good and gentle as she was beautiful.
His nobles hoped that he would have chosen a queen from one of their
daughters, and tried to prevent the marriage; but the king would not
listen to them, and it took place. Not many months later a war broke
out, and the king rode away at the head of his army, while the queen
remained behind, very unhappy at the separation. When peace was made,
and the king returned, he was told that his wife had had two babies in
his absence, but that both were dead; that she herself had gone out of
her mind and was obliged to be shut up in a tower in the mountains,
where, in time, the fresh air might cure her.'

'And was this not true?' asked the swallows eagerly.

'Of course not,' answered the city lady, with some contempt for their
stupidity. 'The children were alive at that very moment in the
gardener's cottage; but at night the chamberlain came down and put them
in a cradle of crystal, which he carried to the river.

'For a whole day they floated safely, for though the stream was deep it
was very still, and the children took no harm. In the morning—so I am
told by my friend the kingfisher—they were rescued by a fisherman who
lived near the river bank.'

The children had been lying on the bench, listening lazily to the
chatter up to this point; but when they heard the story of the crystal
cradle which their foster-mother had always been fond of telling them,
they sat upright and looked at each other.