This is the same as that of the Orco or Ogre in the Italian tale, “I Racconti delle Fate, Cesare da Causa,” Florence, 1888. Whoever kills the hen and throws the egg into a running stream, kills the pchuvush.
“Once a young Pchūvush woman came up to the world and sat in a fair green forest. She saw a very beautiful youth sleeping in the shade, and said: ‘What happiness it must be to have such a husband. Mine is so ugly!’ Her husband, who had stolen silently after her, heard this, and reflected: ‘What a good idea it would be to lend my wife to this young man till she shall have borne a family of beautiful children! Then I could sell them to my rich Pchuvūs friends.’ So he said to his wife: ‘You may live with this youth for ten years if you will promise to give me either the boys or the girls which you may bear to him.’ She agreed to this. Then the Pchuvūs began to sing:—
“ ‘Kuku, kukáya
Kames to adala?
Kuku, kukaya.’
“That is in English:—
“ ‘Kuku, kukaya
Do you want this (one) here?
Kuku, kukaya.’
“Then the young man awoke, and as the goblin offered him much gold and silver with his wife, he took her and lived with her ten years, and every year she bore him a son. Then came the Pchuvush to get the children. But the wife said she had chosen to keep all the sons, and was very sorry but she had no girls to give him! So he went away sorrowfully, howling:—
“ ‘Kuku, kukáya!
Ada kin jirklá!
Kuku, kukaya!’
“That is to say:—
“ ‘Kuku, kukaya!
These are dogs here!
Kuku, kukaya!’
“Then the ten boys laughed and said to their father: ‘We will call ourselves Kukaya.’ And so from them came the race.”
Dr. Wlislocki points out that there are races which declare themselves to be descended from dogs, or, like the Romans, from wolves. It is a curious coincidence that the Eskimo are among the former.
In all parts of Eastern Europe, as in the West, many people are not only careful to burn the parings of their nails[4] and the combings of hair, for fear lest witches and imps should work sorcery with them to the injury of those from whom they came, but they also destroy the shells of eggs when they have eaten their contents. So A. Wuttke tells us in his book, “Der Deutsche Volks Aberglaube der Gegenwart,” 1869: “When one has eaten eggs the shells must be broken up or burned, or else the hens will lay no more, or evil witches will come over them.” And in England, Spain, the Netherlands, or Portugal, there are many who believe or say that if the witches can get such shells from which people have eaten, unbroken, they can, by muttering spells, cause them to grow so large that they can use them as boats. Dom Leitas Ganet (“Dona Branca ou a Conquista do Algarve,” Paris, 1826), however, assures us that is a very risky thing for the witches, because if they do not return home before midnight the shell-boat perishes, “whence it hath come to pass that many of these sorceresses have been miserably drowned.”
However, an egg hung up in a house is a lucky amulet, hence the ostrich eggs and cocoanuts resembling them which are so common in the East. And it is to be observed that every gypsy in England declares that a pivilioi, or cocoanut, as a gift brings bāk or luck, I myself having had many given to me with this assurance. This is evidently and directly derived from India, in which country there are a mass of religious traditions referring to it.
“Once there was a gypsy girl who noticed that when anybody ate eggs they broke up the shells, and asking why this was done received for answer:—
“ ‘You must break the shell to bits for fear
Lest the witches should make it a boat, my dear.
For over the sea away from home,
Far by night the witches roam.’
“Then the girl said: ‘I don’t see why the poor witches should not have boats as well as other people.’ And saying this she threw the shell of an egg which she had been eating as far as she could, and cried, ‘Chovihani, lav tro bero!’ (‘Witch—there is your boat!’) But what was her amazement to see the shell caught up by the wind and whirled away on high till it became invisible, while a voice cried, ‘Paraka!’ (‘I thank you!’)
“Now it came to pass some time after that the gypsy girl was on an island, where she remained some days. And when she wished to return, behold a great flood was rising, and it had washed her boat away, she could see nothing of it. But the water kept getting higher and higher, and soon there was only a little bit of the island above the flood, and the girl thought she must drown. Just then she saw a white boat coming; there sat in it a woman with witch eyes; she was rowing with a broom, and a black cat sat on her shoulder. ‘Jump in!’ she cried to the girl, and then rowed her to the firm land.
“When she was on the shore the woman said: ‘Turn round three times to the right and look every time at the boat.’ She did so, and every time she looked she saw the boat grow smaller till it was like an egg. Then the woman sang:—
“ ‘That is the shell you threw to me,
Even a witch can grateful be.’
“Saying this she vanished, cat, broom, shell, and all.
“Now my story is fairly done,
I beg you to tell a better one.”
As regards these boats which grow large or small at will we find them in the Norse ship Skidbladnir, which certain dwarfs made and gave to Frey. It is so large that all the gods and their army can embark in it. But when not in use it may be so contracted that one may hava i pungi sino—put it in his purse or pocket. The Algonkin god Glooskap has not only the counterpart of Skidbladnir, but the hammer of Thor and his belt of strength. He has also the two attendant birds which bring him news, and the two wolves which mean Day and Night.
Another legend given by Dr. Krauss, relative to witches and egg-shells is as follows:—
“By the Klek lived a rich tavern-keeper and his wife. He was thin and lean—hager und mager—while she was as fat as a well-fed pig.
“One day there came a gypsy woman by. She began to tell his fortune by his hand. And as she studied it seriously she became herself serious, and then said to him, ‘Listen, you good-natured dolt (moré)! Do you know why you are so slim and your wife so stout?’ ‘Not I.’ ‘My good friend (Latcho pral), your wife is a witch. Every Friday when there is a new moon (mladi petak) she rides you up along the Klek to the devil’s dance’ (Uraze kolo). ‘How can that be?’ ‘Simply enough. As soon as you fall asleep, she slips a magic halter over your head. Then you become a horse, and she rides you over the hills and far away over mountains and woods, cities and seas, to the witches’ gathering.
“‘Little you know where you have been,
Little you think of what you have seen,
“‘For when you awake it is all forgotten, but the ride is hard for you, and you are wasting away, and dying. Take great care of yourself on the next Friday when there is a new moon!’
“So the gypsy went her way, and he thought it over. On the next Friday when the moon was new he went to bed early, but only pretended to sleep. Then his wife came silently as a cat to the bed-side with the magic halter in her hand. As quick as lightning he jumped up, snatched it from her, and threw it over her head. Then she became, in a second, a mare. He mounted her, and away she flew through the air—over hills and dales like the wind, till they came to the witches’ meeting.
“He dismounted, bound the mare to a tree, and, unseen by the company, watched them at a little distance. All the witches carried pots or jars. First they danced in a ring, then every one put her pot on the ground and danced alone round it. And these pots were egg-shells.
“While he watched, there came flying to him a witch in whom he recognized his old godmother. ‘How did you come here?’ she inquired. ‘Well, I came here on my mare, I know not how.’ ‘Woe to you—begone as soon as possible. If the witches once see you it will be all up with you. Know that we are all waiting for one’ (this one was his wife), ‘and till she comes we cannot begin.’ Then the landlord mounted his mare, cried ‘Home!’ and when he was there tied her up in the stable and went to bed.
“In the morning his servant-man said to him: ‘There is a mare in the stable.’ ‘Yes,’ replied the master; ‘it is mine.’ So he sent for a smith, and made him shoe the mare. Now, whatever is done to a witch while she is in the form of an animal remains on or in her when she resumes her natural shape.
“Then he went out and assembled a judicial or legal commission. He led the members to his house, told them all his story, led forth the mare, and took off the halter. She became a woman as before, but horse-shoes were affixed to her feet and hands. She began to weep and wail, but the judge was pitiless. He had her thrown into a pit full of quicklime, and thus she was burnt to death. And since that time people break the shells of eggs after eating their contents, lest witches should make jars or pots of them.”
The following story on the same subject is from a different source:—