The devil went again to the older one for advice: ‘But where to kill him?’ said he. ‘When I smashed him with a club, he only made a rustling and said: “A flea bit me.”’ ‘Then pay him up now,’ said the elder devil, ‘as much as he wants, and pack him off about his business.’ The gipsy chose a bag with ducats and went off. Then the devil was sorry about the money, and consulted the older one again. ‘Overtake the gipsy, and say that the one of you that kicks a stone best, so that the sound goes three miles, shall have the money.’ The devil overtook him: ‘Stay, gipsy! I’ve something to say to you.’ ‘What are you after, son of the enemy?’ ‘Oh, stay, let us kick; the one that kicks loudest against a stone, let his be the money.’ ‘Now then, kick away,’ said the gipsy. The devil kicked once, twice, till it resounded in their ears; but the gipsy meanwhile poured some water on it: ‘Eh! what’s that, you fool?’ ‘When I kick a dry stone, water spurts out.’ ‘Ah! when he kicks, tremble! water has spurted out of the stone.’
The devil went again for advice. The elder one said: ‘Let the one who throws the club highest have the money.’ The gipsy had now got some miles on his way; he looked round; the devil was behind him: ‘Stop! wait, gipsy!’ ‘What do you want, son of the enemy?’ ‘The one of us that throws the club highest, let his be the money.’ ‘Well, let us throw now. I’ve two brothers up yonder in heaven, both smiths, and it will just suit them either for a hammer or for tongs.’ The devil threw, so that it whizzed, and was scarcely visible. The gipsy took it by the end, scarcely held it up, and shouted: ‘Hold out your hands there, brothers—hey!’ But the devil seized him by the hand: ‘Ah, stop! don’t throw; it would be a pity to lose it.’
The elder devil advised him again: ‘Overtake him once more, and say, “The one that runs fastest to a certain point, let him have the money.”’ The devil overtook him; the gipsy said: ‘Do you know what? I shan’t contend with you any more, for you don’t deserve it; but I’ve a young son, Hare, who’s only just three days old; if you overtake him, you shall measure yourself with me.’ The gipsy espied a hare in a firwood: ‘There he is! little Hare! now, then, Hare! Catch him up!’ When the hare started he went hither and thither in bounds, only a line of dust rose behind him. ‘Bah!’ said the devil, ‘he doesn’t run straight.’ ‘In my family no one ever did run straight. He runs as he pleases.’
The elder devil advised him to wrestle; the stronger was to have the money. ‘Eh!’ said the gipsy; ‘you hear the terms for me to wrestle with you: I have a father, he is so old that for the last seven years I have carried him food into a cave; if you floor him, then you shall wrestle with me.’ But the gipsy knew of a bear, and led the devil to his cave. ‘Go,’ said he, ‘in there; wake him up, and wrestle with him.’ The devil went in and said: ‘Get up, longbeard! let us have a wrestle.’ Alas! when the bear began to hug him, when he began to claw him, he beat him out, he turned him out, and threw him down on the floor of the cave.
The elder devil advised that the one who whistled best, so that it could be heard for three miles, should have the money. The devil whistled so that it resounded and whizzed again. But the gipsy said: ‘Do you know what? When I whistle you will go blind and deaf; bind up your eyes and ears.’ He did so. The gipsy took a mallet for splitting logs, and banged it once and twice against his ears. ‘Oh, stop! Oh! don’t whistle, or you’ll kill me! May ill luck smite you with your money! Go where you will never be heard of again!’ That’s all.
XXVII.—GOD AND THE DEVIL.
Once upon a time there was nothing; there was only the heaven above, and water beneath. Then God journeyed [in a boat] upon the water and saw a vast, vast crust of hard foam, on which sat the devil. God asked him: ‘What art thou?’ ‘I will not converse with thee,’ replied the wicked one, ‘unless thou takest me into thy boat.’ God promised, and heard in reply: ‘I’m the devil.’ They both journeyed on without conversing together at all, till the devil began: ‘How very nice and beautiful it would be, if there were firm land in the world!’ ‘There shall be,’ answered God; ‘go down into the depth of the sea and bring up a handful of sand; I will make the land from it. When thou descendest, and art about to take the sand, say these words: “I take thee in the name of God.”’ The devil didn’t wait long, but was immediately under the water. On the bottom he reached after the sand with both hands with these words: ‘I take thee in my own name.’ When he came up to the top he looked with curiosity at his closed fists, and was astonished at seeing that they were empty. But God, observing what had happened to him, consoled him, and told him to go down to the bottom once more. He did so, and as soon as he began to grub into the sand in the deep, he said: ‘I take thee in his name.’ However, he brought up only as much sand, as could get under his nails; God took a little of the sand and firm land formed itself, but only as much as was required for a bed. When night came, God and the devil lay down side by side on the firm land to pass the night. As soon as our Lord God fell asleep, the devil pushed him towards the east, in order that he might fall into the water and perish. In the direction in which he pushed him, there did it become land for a long way. The devil tried pushing him towards the west, and on that side the land extended far. A similar circumstance helped to form land also on the other sides of the world.
As soon as God had made the land, he ascended to heaven. The devil, not liking to stay without him, followed in his track. Now he heard how the angels praised God in hymns, and began to feel annoyed, that he had no one to rejoice at his arrival. He went up to God and whispered in his ear: ‘What must I do, that I may have such a multitude?’ God answered him: ‘Wash thy hands and face, and sprinkle the water behind thee.’ He did so, and there came into existence such a multitude of devils that the angels and saints no more had sufficient room in heaven. God observed what an injury there was from this to his own. He summoned St. Ilya, and ordered him to let off a storm of thunder and lightning. Ilya was glad at this; he roared, thundered, and lightened with a tempest, and poured rain for forty days and nights, and along with the great rain the devils also fell from heaven on to the earth. At last there were no more wicked ones, and angels also began to fall. Then God ordered Ilya to stop, and wherever any devil struck the ground at the time that he fell, there he remained. From that time to this bright little fires have darted about in heaven, and only now fall upon the earth.