When he comes to the ferry, it was no easy thing to get this carriage into the boat. When he has got to the other side, he first puts himself into the barrel of honey, and then into the barrel of feathers, and ties the horns on to his head, and then mounts as postilion. He then comes to the Tartaro’s house, and just then he happened to be at home. Petit Perroquet knocks at the door. The Tartaro himself comes to open, and asks:
“Who are you? You!”
“I!!—I am the oldest of all the devils in hell.”
He opens the carriage door for him, and says:
“Get in there.”
The Tartaro gets in, and Petit Perroquet, very glad, starts off, and arrives at the ferry. He crosses, as he best can, with his carriage and horses. He pays the ferryman generously, and comes to the king’s palace. They were all terrified when they saw that he had the Tartaro there. They tried to shoot him with cannon, but he caught the bullets, and sent them back as if they had been balls to play with. They could not kill him in that way, so they finished him with other arms.
As Petit Perroquet had well gained her, they gave him the princess in marriage. He sent for his mother to the court, and as they lived well, so they died happily.
[1] There seems to be a Basque root “Tar,” which appears in the words, “Tarro, Tarrotu, v., devenir un peu grand. Tarrapataka, adv., marchant avec précipitation et en faisant du bruit.”—Salaberry’s “Vocabulaire Bas-Navarrais,” sub voce. Cf. Campbell’s “Tales of the Western Highlands,” Vol. II., 94:—“He heard a great Tartar noise,” Tartar being printed as if it were a Gaelic word.