The Red Fairy Book, Andrew Lang [book club recommendations txt] 📗

his saddle, mounted his horse, and rode quickly out

of the forest.

 

Now, as he was longing to see the princesses, he was very anxious

to come to a river or a fountain, but, though he rode for hours, a

river or fountain was nowhere to be seen. Still his heart was light,

for he felt that he had got through the most difficult part of his task,

and the rest was easy.

 

About mid-day he reached a sandy plain, scorching in the sun.

Here he was seized with dreadful thirst; he took his gourd and

raised it to his lips.

 

But the gourd was empty; in the excitement of his joy he had

forgotten to fill it. He rode on, struggling with his sufferings, but

at last he could bear it no longer.

 

He let himself slide to the earth, and lay down beside his horse,

his throat burning, his chest heaving, and his head going round.

Already he felt that death was near him, when his eyes fell on the

bag where the oranges peeped out.

 

Poor Desire, who had braved so many dangers to win the lady

of his dreams, would have given at this moment all the princesses

in the world, were they pink or golden, for a single drop of water.

 

`Ah!’ he said to himself. `If only these oranges were real fruit—

fruit as refreshing as what I ate in Flanders! And, after all, who

knows?’

 

This idea put some life into him. He had the strength to lift

himself up and put his hand into his bag. He drew out an orange

and opened it with his knife.

 

Out of it flew the prettiest little female canary that ever was

seen.

 

`Give me something to drink, I am dying of thirst,’ said the

golden bird.

 

`Wait a minute,’ replied Desire, so much astonished that he

forgot his own sufferings; and to satisfy the bird he took a second

orange, and opened it without thinking what he was doing. Out

of it flew another canary, and she too began to cry:

 

`I am dying of thirst; give me something to drink.’

 

Then Tubby’s son saw his folly, and while the two canaries

flew away he sank on the ground, where, exhausted by his last

effort, he lay unconscious.

VII

When he came to himself, he had a pleasant feeling of freshness

all about him. It was night, the sky was sparkling with stars, and

the earth was covered with a heavy dew.

 

The traveller having recovered, mounted his horse, and at the

first streak of dawn he saw a stream dancing in front of him, and

stooped down and drank his fill.

 

He hardly had courage to open his last orange. Then he

remembered that the night before he had disobeyed the orders of the

old man. Perhaps his terrible thirst was a trick of the cunning

witch, and suppose, even though he opened the orange on the

banks of the stream, that he did not find in it the princess that he

sought?

 

He took his knife and cut it open. Alas! out of it flew a little

canary, just like the others, who cried:

 

`I am thirsty; give me something to drink.’

 

Great was the disappointment of Desire. However, he was

determined not to let this bird fly away; so he took up some water

in the palm of his hand and held it to its beak.

 

Scarcely had the canary drunk when she became a beautiful

girl, tall and straight as a poplar tree, with black eyes and a golden

skin. Desire had never seen anyone half so lovely, and he stood

gazing at her in delight.

 

On her side she seemed quite bewildered, but she looked about

her with happy eyes, and was not at all afraid of her deliverer.

 

He asked her name. She answered that she was called the

Princess Zizi; she was about sixteen years old, and for ten years of

that time the witch had kept her shut up in an orange, in the

shape of a canary.

 

`Well, then, my charming Zizi,’ said the young Prince, who

was longing to marry her, `let us ride away quickly so as to

escape from the wicked witch.’

 

But Zizi wished to know where he meant to take her.

 

`To my father’s castle,’ he said.

 

He mounted his horse and took her in front of him, and, holding

her carefully in his arms, they began their journey.

VIII

Everything the Princess saw was new to her, and in passing

through mountains, valleys, and towns, she asked a thousand

questions. Desire was charmed to answer them. It is so delightful

to teach those one loves!

 

Once she inquired what the girls in his country were like.

 

`They are pink and white,’ he replied, `and their eyes are blue.’

 

`Do you like blue eyes?’ said the Princess; but Desire thought

it was a good opportunity to find out what was in her heart, so he

did not answer.

 

`And no doubt,’ went on the Princess, `one of them is your

intended bride?’

 

Still he was silent, and Zizi drew herself up proudly.

 

`No,’ he said at last. `None of the girls of my own country

are beautiful in my eyes, and that is why I came to look for a wife

in the land of the sun. Was I wrong, my lovely Zizi?’

 

This time it was Zizi’s turn to be silent.

IX

Talking in this way they drew near to the castle. When they

were about four stone-throws from the gates they dismounted in

the forest, by the edge of a fountain.

 

`My dear Zizi,’ said Tubby’s son, `we cannot present ourselves

before my father like two common people who have come back

from a walk. We must enter the castle with more ceremony.

Wait for me here, and in an hour I will return with carriages and

horses fit for a princess.’

 

`Don’t be long,’ replied Zizi, and she watched him go with

wistful eyes.

 

When she was left by herself the poor girl began to feel afraid.

She was alone for the first time in her life, and in the middle of a

thick forest.

 

Suddenly she heard a noise among the trees. Fearing lest it

should be a wolf, she hid herself in the hollow trunk of a willow

tree which hung over the fountain. It was big enough to hold

her altogether, but she peeped out, and her pretty head was

reflected in the clear water.

 

Then there appeared, not a wolf, but a creature quite as wicked

and quite as ugly. Let us see who this creature was.

X

Not far from the fountain there lived a family of bricklayers.

Now, fifteen years before this time, the father in walking through

the forest found a little girl, who had been deserted by the gypsies.

He carried her home to his wife, and the good woman was sorry

for her, and brought her up with her own sons. As she grew

older, the little gypsy became much more remarkable for strength

and cunning than for sense or beauty. She had a low forehead,

a flat nose, thick lips, coarse hair, and a skin not golden like that

of Zizi, but the colour of clay.

 

As she was always being teased about her complexion, she got

as noisy and cross as a titmouse. So they used to call her Titty.

 

Titty was often sent by the bricklayer to fetch water from the

fountain, and as she was very proud and lazy the gypsy disliked

this very much.

 

It was she who had frightened Zizi by appearing with her

pitcher on her shoulder. Just as she was stooping to fill it, she

saw reflected in the water the lovely image of the Princess.

 

`What a pretty face!’ she exclaimed, `Why, it must be

mine! How in the world can they call me ugly? I am certainly

much too pretty to be their water carrier!’

 

So saying, she broke her pitcher and went home.

 

`Where is your pitcher?’ asked the bricklayer.

 

`Well, what do you expect? The pitcher may go many times

to the well… .’

 

`But at last it is broken. Well, here is a bucket that will not

break.’

 

The gypsy returned to the fountain, and addressing once more

the image of Zizi, she said:

 

`No; I don’t mean to be a beast of burden any longer.’ And

she flung the bucket so high in the air that it stuck in the branches

of an oak.

 

`I met a wolf,’ she told the bricklayer, `and I broke the bucket

across his nose.’

 

The bricklayer asked her no more questions, but took down a

broom and gave her such a beating that her pride was humbled

a little.

 

Then he handed to her an old copper milk-can, and said:

 

`If you don’t bring it back full, your bones shall suffer for it.’

XI

Titty went off rubbing her sides; but this time she did not dare

to disobey, and in a very bad temper stooped down over the well.

It was not at all easy to fill the milk-can, which was large and

round. It would not go down into the well, and the gypsy had to

try again and again.

 

At last her arms grew so tired that when she did manage to get

the can properly under the water she had no strength to pull it up,

and it rolled to the bottom.

 

On seeing the can disappear, she made such a miserable face

that Zizi, who had been watching her all this time, burst into fits of

laughter.

 

Titty turned round and perceived the mistake she had made;

and she felt so angry that she made up her mind to be revenged at

once.

 

`What are you doing there, you lovely creature?’ she said to

Zizi.

 

`I am waiting for my lover,’ Zizi replied; and then, with a

simplicity quite natural in a girl who so lately had been a canary,

she told all her story.

 

The gypsy had often seen the young Prince pass by, with his

gun on his shoulder, when he was going after crows. She was too

ugly and ragged for him ever to have noticed her, but Titty on her

side had admired him, though she thought he might well have been

a little fatter.

 

`Dear, dear!’ she said to herself. `So he likes yellow women!

Why, I am yellow too, and if I could only think of a way–-‘

 

It was not long before she did think of it.

 

`What!’ cried the sly Titty, `they are coming with great pomp

to fetch you, and you are not afraid to show yourself to so many

fine lords and ladies with your hair down like that? Get down at

once, my poor child, and let me dress your hair for you!’

 

The innocent Zizi came down at once, and stood by Titty. The

gypsy began to comb her long brown locks, when suddenly she drew

a pin from her stays, and, just as the titmouse digs its beak into

the heads of linnets and larks, Titty dug the pin into the head of

Zizi.

 

No sooner did Zizi feel the prick of the pin than she became a

bird again, and, spreading her wings, she flew away.

 

`That was neatly done,’ said the gypsy. `The Prince will be

clever if he finds his bride.’ And, arranging her dress, she seated

herself on the grass to await Desire.

XII

Meanwhile the Prince was