At the approach of evening Fate sat down to supper; and he, too, sat down with him, but neither spoke a single word. After supper they lay down to sleep. About midnight a terrible noise began, and out of the noise was heard a voice: ‘Fate! Fate! so many souls have been born to-day; assign them what you will.’ Then Fate arose, and opened the money-chest; but there were not ducats in it, but silver coins, with an occasional ducat. Fate began to scatter the coins behind him, saying: ‘As to me to-day, so to them for life.’ When, on the morrow, day dawned, that house was no more, but instead of it there stood a smaller one. Thus did Fate every night, and his house became smaller every morning, till, finally, nothing remained of it but a little cottage. Fate took a mattock, and began to dig; the man, too, took a mattock and began to dig, and thus they dug all day. When it was eventide, Fate took a piece of bread, broke off half of it, and gave it to him. Thus they supped, and, after supper, lay down to sleep. About midnight, again, a terrible noise began, and out of the noise was heard a voice: ‘Fate! Fate! so many souls have been born to-day; assign them what you will.’ Then Fate arose, opened the chest, and began to scatter behind him nothing but bits of rag, and here and there a day-labourer’s wage-penny,[16] shouting: ‘As to me to-day, so to them for life.’ When he arose on the morrow, the cottage was transformed into a large palace, like that which had been there the first day. Then Fate asked him: ‘Why have you come?’ He detailed to him all his distress, and said that he had come to ask him why he gave him evil luck. Fate then said to him: ‘You saw how the first night I scattered ducats, and what took place afterwards. As it was to me the night when anyone was born, so will it be to him for life. You were born on an unlucky night, you will be poor for life; but your brother was born on a lucky night, and he will be lucky for life. But, as you have been so resolute, and have taken so much trouble, I will tell you how you may help yourself. Your brother has a daughter, Militza, who is lucky, just as her father is; adopt her, and, whatever you acquire, say that it is all hers.’ Then he thanked Fate, and said to him again: ‘In such a village there is a wealthy peasant, who has enough of everything; but he is unlucky in this, that his people can never be satisfied: they eat up a caldron full of food at a single meal, and even that is too little for them. And this peasant’s father and mother are, as it were, fettered to this world; they are old and discoloured, and dried up like ghosts, but cannot die. He begged me, Fate, when I lodged with him for the night, to ask you why that was the case.’ Then Fate replied: ‘All that is because he does not honour his father and mother, throwing their food behind the stove; but, if he puts them in the best place at table, and if he gives them the first cup of brandy, and the first cup of wine, his servants would not eat half so much, and his parents’ souls would be set at liberty.’ After this he again questioned Fate: ‘In such a village, when I spent the night in a house, the householder complained to me that his cattle were not productive, but the contrary, and he begged me to ask you why this was the case.’ Fate replied: ‘That is because on the festival of his name-day he slaughters the worst animals; but if he slaughtered the best he has, his cattle would all become productive.’ Then he asked him the question about the stream of water: ‘Why should it be that that stream of water has no offspring?’ Fate replied: ‘Because it has never drowned a human being; but don’t have any nonsense; don’t tell it till it carries you across, for if you tell it, it will immediately drown you.’ Then he thanked Fate, and went home. When he came to the water, the water asked him: ‘What is the news from Fate?’ He replied: ‘Carry me over, and then I will tell you.’ When the water had carried him over, he ran on a little, and, when he had got a little way off, turned and shouted to the water: ‘Water! Water! you have never drowned a human being, therefore you have no offspring.’ When the water heard that, it overflowed its banks, and after him; but he ran, and barely escaped. When he came to the man whose cattle were unproductive, he was impatiently waiting for him. ‘What news, brother, in God’s name? Have you asked Fate the question?’ He replied: ‘I have; and Fate says when you celebrate the festival of your name-day, you slaughter the worst animals; but if you slaughter the best you have, all your cattle will be productive.’ When he heard this, he said to him: ‘Stay, brother, with us; it isn’t three days to my name-day, and, if it is really true, I will give you an apple.’[17] He stayed till the name-day. When the name-day arrived, the householder slaughtered his best ox, and from that time forth his cattle became productive. After this, the householder presented him with five head of cattle. He thanked him, and proceeded on his way. When he came to the village of the householder who had the insatiable servants, the householder was impatiently expecting him. ‘How is it, brother, in God’s name? What says Fate?’ He replied: ‘Fate says you do not honour your father and mother, but throw their food behind the stove for them to eat; if you put them in the best place at table, and give them the first cup of brandy, and the first cup of wine, your people will not eat half as much, and your father and mother will be content.’ When the householder heard this, he told his wife, and she immediately washed and combed her father and mother in law, and put nice shoes on their feet; and, when evening came, the householder put them in the best place at table, and gave them the first cup of brandy and the first cup of wine. From that time forth the household could not eat half what they did before, and on the morrow both the father and the mother departed this life. Then the householder gave him two oxen; he thanked him, and went home. When he came to his place of abode, his acquaintances began to congratulate him, and ask him: ‘Whose are these cattle?’ He replied to everybody: ‘Brother, they are my niece Militza’s.’ When he got home he immediately went off to his brother, and began to beg and pray him: ‘Give me, brother, your daughter Militza to be my daughter. You see that I have no one.’ His brother replied: ‘It is good, brother; Militza is yours.’ He took Militza, and conducted her home, and afterwards acquired much, but said, with regard to everything, that it was Militza’s. Once he went out into the field to go round some rye; the rye was beautiful; it could not be better. Thereupon a traveller happened to come up, and asked him: ‘Whose is this rye?’ He forgot himself, and said: ‘Mine.’ The moment he said that, the rye caught fire and began to burn. When he saw this, he ran after the man: ‘Stop, brother! it is not mine; it belongs to Militza, my niece.’ Then the fire in the rye went out, and he remained lucky with Militza.
[16] A ‘marjush,’ a small coin with the image of the Virgin Mary on it.
[17] I.e., a good present.
SERBIAN STORIES FROM BOSNIA.
THE Bosnian stories are not written in the Cyrillic, but in the Latin character. This indicates that the Christian inhabitants of Bosnia belong to the Latin rather than to the Greek Church. The Serbians of the Kingdom of Serbia would, no doubt, gladly absorb Bosnia, but it is very doubtful whether the Bosnians would be equally glad to be absorbed by them. In Bosnia the landed proprietors are extensively Mahometans, and neither they nor the Latin Christians would be very willing to place themselves under the domination of the Orthodox Greek Church, without much stronger guarantees than the Serbians of the kingdom, as at present constituted, are likely to be able or willing to give them.
XLV.—THE BIRDCATCHER.
Near Constantinople there lived a man who knew no other occupation but that of catching birds; his neighbours called him the birdcatcher. Some he used to sell, others served him for food, and thus he maintained himself. One day he caught a crow, and wanted to let it go, but then he had nothing to take home. ‘If I can’t catch anything to-day, I’ll take my children the crow, that they may amuse themselves; and they have no other birds at hand.’ So he intended, and so he did. His wife, on seeing the crow, said: ‘What mischief have you brought me? Wring the worthless thing’s neck!’ The crow, on hearing that sentence, besought the birdcatcher to let her go, and promised to be always at his service. ‘I will bring birds to you; through me you will become prosperous.’ ‘Even if you’re lying, it’s no great loss,’ said the birdcatcher to himself, and set the crow at liberty.
On the morrow the birdcatcher went out birdcatching as usual, and the crow kept her word; she brought him two nightingales; he caught them both, and took them home. The nightingales were not long with the birdcatcher, for the grand vizier heard of them, sent for the birdcatcher, took the two nightingales from him, and placed them in the new mosque. The nightingales were able to sing sweetly and agreeably; the people collected in front of the mosque and listened to their beautiful singing; and the wonder came to the ears of the emperor. The emperor summoned the grand vizier, took the birds from him, and inquired whence he had got them. When the emperor had thought the matter over, he sent his cavasses, and they summoned the birdcatcher. ‘It’s no joke to go before the emperor! I know why he summons me; no half torture will be mine. I am guilty of nothing, I owe nothing; but the emperor’s will, that’s my crime!’ said the birdcatcher, and went into the emperor’s presence all pale with fear. ‘Birdcatcher, sirrah! are you the catcher of those nightingales which were at the new mosque?’ ‘Padishah! both father and mother! where your slipper is, there is my face!—I am.’ ‘Sirrah!’ again said the emperor, ‘I wish you to find their mother; doubtless your reward will be forthcoming. But do you hear? You may be quite sure of it; if you don’t, there will be no head on your shoulders. I’m not joking.’ Now the poor fellow went out of the emperor’s presence, and how he got home he didn’t know; a good two hours afterwards he came to himself and began to lament. ‘I’m a fool! I thought my trade led no-whither, and not to misfortune for me; but now see! To find the mother of the birds—none but a fool could imagine it—and to catch her!’ To this lamentation there was neither limit nor end. It was getting dark, and his wife summoned him to supper; just then the crow was at the window: ‘What’s this?’ the crow asked. ‘What are these lamentations? What’s the distress?’ ‘Let me alone; don’t add to my torture; I’m done for owing to you!’ said the birdcatcher, and told her all, what it was and how it was. ‘That’s easy,’ answered she; ‘go to the emperor to-morrow, and ask for a thousand loads of wheat; then pile up the corn in one heap, and I will inform the birds that the emperor gives them a feast; they will all assemble; their mother, too, will doubtless come; the one with regard to which I give you a sign is she; bring a cage, put the two nightingales in it; the mother, seeing her two young birds, will fly up; let your snare be ready, and then we shall find and catch her.’ As the crow instructed him, so he did. The emperor gave him the corn; he feasted the birds, caught the mother of the nightingales, and took her to the emperor. He received a handsome reward, but he would gladly have gone without such reward when he remembered how many tears he had shed. The crow, too, received a reward, for she persuaded the birdcatcher to give his wife a good beating, which he did, to the satisfaction of the crow, in her presence.
Time after time, behold some of the emperor’s cavasses! ‘Come, the emperor summons you!’ sounded from the door. ‘A new misfortune! a new sorrow!’ thought the birdcatcher in his heart, and went before the emperor. ‘Do you hear, sirrah? Just now I paid you a good recompense, now a greater one awaits you. I wish you to seek the mistress of those birds, otherwise, valah! bilah! your head will be in danger! Do you understand me?’ At these words of the emperor the birdcatcher either could not or dared not utter a word; he shrugged his shoulders and went out of his presence. As he went home he talked to himself weeping: ‘I see that he is determined to destroy me, and some devil has put it into his head to torture me first.’ On arriving at home he found his crow at the window: ‘Has some misfortune again occurred to you?’ ‘Don’t ask,’ replied the birdcatcher; ‘one still blacker and more miserable!’ and told her all in detail, what it was and how it was. ‘Don’t trouble your head much about that,’ said the crow. ‘Be quick; ask the emperor for a boat full of all manner of wares. Then we will push off on the deep sea; when people hear that the emperor’s agent is bringing wares, the people will assemble, and that lady is sure to come; the one on which I perch is she; up anchor and off with the boat!’ This the birdcatcher remembered well. What he asked of the emperor, that he gave him, and he pushed the boat over the sea; his bringing wares for sale went from mouth to mouth; people came and purchased the wares. At last came the mistress of the birds also, and began to examine the wares; the crow perched on her shoulder; the anchor was raised, and in a short time the birdcatcher brought the boat to under the emperor’s quay. When the birdcatcher brought her before the emperor, the emperor was astounded. He didn’t know which to admire most, the birdcatcher’s cleverness or her beauty. Her beauty overpowered the emperor’s mind; he rewarded the birdcatcher handsomely, and placed the sultana in his house. ‘You are the dearest to me of all,’ said the emperor several times to her; ‘if I were to banish all the sultanas, you should never go out of my seraglio.’