Scottish Folk and Fairy Tales from Burns to Buchan (Penguin Classics) (14 page)

So, after he had had speech with the Princess, he stood up before the Elders, and declared, with trembling voice, that both he and she were ready to make the sacrifice.

‘She is my only child,’ he said, ‘and the last of her race. Yet it seems good to both of us that she should lay down her life, if by so doing she may save the land that she loves so well.’

Salt tears ran down the faces of the great bearded men as they heard their King’s words, for they all knew how dear the Princess Gemdelovely was to him. But it was felt that what he said was wise and true, and that the thing was just and right; for it was
better, surely, that one maiden should die, even though she were of royal blood, than that bands of other maidens should go to their death week by week, and all to no purpose.

So, amid heavy sobs, the aged deemster – the lawman who was the chief man of the Council – rose up to pronounce the Princess’s doom. But, ere he did so, the King’s kemper-man – or fighting-man – stepped forward.

‘I ask that this doom should have a tail, just like the Stoorworm! A tail with a sting in it, what’s more! If, after devouring our dear Princess the monster has still not departed, the next thing that is offered to him will be no tender young maiden, but that tough, lean old Sorcerer.’

And at the kemper-man’s words there was such a great shout of approval that the wicked Sorcerer seemed to shrink within himself, and his pale face grew even paler than it was before.

Now, three weeks were allowed between the time that the doom was pronounced upon the Princess and the time that it was carried out, so that the King might send ambassadors to all the neighbouring kingdoms to issue proclamations that, if any champion would come forward who was able to drive away the Stoorworm and save the Princess, he should have her for his wife.

And with her he should have the Kingdom of Orkney, as well as a very famous sword that was now in the King’s possession, but which had belonged to the great god Odin, with which he had fought and vanquished all his foes.

The sword bore the name of Sickersnapper, and no man had any power against it.

The news of all these things spread over the length and breadth of the land, and everyone mourned for the fate that was likely to befall the Princess Gemdelovely. And the farmer, and his wife, and their six sons mourned also – all but Assipattle, who sat amongst the ashes and said nothing.

When the King’s proclamation was made known throughout the neighbouring kingdoms, there was a fine stir among all the young gallants, for it seemed but a little thing to slay a sea monster; and a beautiful wife, a fertile kingdom and a trusty sword are not to be won every day.

So six-and-thirty champions arrived at the King’s Palace, each hoping to gain the prize.

But the King sent them all out to look at the Giant Stoorworm lying in the sea with its enormous mouth open, and when they saw it, twelve of them were seized with sudden illness, and twelve of them were so afraid that they took to their heels and ran, and never stopped until they reached their own countries; and so only twelve returned to the King’s Palace, and as for them, they were so downcast at the thought of the task that they swore they had no spirit left in them at all.

And none of them dared try to kill the Stoorworm; so the three weeks passed slowly by, until the night before the day on which the Princess was to be sacrificed. On that night the King, feeling that he must do something to entertain his guests, made a great supper for them.

But, as you may guess, it was a dreary feast, for everyone was thinking so much about the terrible thing that was to happen on the morrow, that no one could eat or drink.

And when it was all over, and everybody had retired to rest, save the King and his old kemper-man, the King returned to the great hall, and went slowly up to his Chair of State, high up on the dais. It was not like the Chairs of State that we know nowadays; it was nothing but a massive
kist
, in which he kept all the things which he treasured most.

The old monarch undid the iron bolts with trembling fingers, and lifted the lid, and took out the wondrous sword, Sickersnapper, which had belonged to the great god Odin.

His trusty kemper-man, who had stood by him in a hundred fights, watched him with pitying eyes.

‘Why lift out the sword,’ he said softly, ‘when your fighting days are done? Right nobly have you fought your battles in the past, oh, my Lord! when your arm was strong and sure. But when folk’s years number four score and sixteen, as yours do, ’tis time to leave such work to other and younger men.’

The old King turned on him angrily, with something of the old fire in his eyes. ‘Wheesht,’ he cried, ‘else will I turn this sword on
you. Do you think that I can see my only bairn devoured by a monster, and not lift a finger to try and save her when no other man will? I tell you – and I will swear it with my two thumbs crossed on Sickersnapper – that both the sword and I will be destroyed before so much as one of her hairs be touched. So go, if you love me, my old comrade, and order my boat to be ready, with the sail set and the prow pointed out to sea. I will go myself and fight the Stoorworm; and if I do not return, I will lay it on you to guard my cherished daughter. Peradventure, my life may redeem hers.’

Now that night everybody at the farm went to bed early, for next morning the whole family was to set out first thing, to go to the top of the hill near the sea, to see the Princess eaten by the Stoorworm. All except Assipattle, who was to be left at home to herd the geese.

The lad was so vexed at this – for he had great schemes in his head – that he could not sleep. And as he lay tossing and tumbling about in his corner among the ashes, he heard his father and mother talking in the great box-bed. And, as he listened, he found that they were having an argument.

‘’Tis such a long way to the hill overlooking the sea, I fear me I shall never walk it,’ said his mother. ‘I think I had better bide at home.’

‘Nay,’ replied her husband, ‘that would be a bonny-like thing, when all the countryside is to be there. You will ride behind me on my good mare Go-swift.’

‘I do not care to trouble you to take me behind you,’ said his wife, ‘for I think you don’t love me as you used to do.’

‘The woman’s havering,’ cried the Goodman of the house impatiently. ‘What makes you think that I have ceased to love you?’

‘Because you no longer tell me your secrets,’ answered his wife. ‘To go no further, think of this very horse, Go-swift. For five long years I have been begging you to tell me how it is that, when
you
ride her, she flies faster than the wind, while if any other man mount her, she
hirples
along like a broken-down nag.’

The Goodman laughed. ‘’Twas not for lack of love for you that I kept that a secret, Goodwife,’ he said, ‘though it might be for lack of trust. For women’s tongues wag but loosely; and I did not want other folk to ken my secret. But since my silence has vexed your heart, I’ll tell you everything.

‘When I want Go-swift to stand, I give her one clap on the left shoulder. When I would have her go like any other horse, I give her two claps on the right. But when I want her to fly like the wind, I whistle through the windpipe of a goose. And, as I never ken when I want her to gallop like that, I aye keep the bird’s
thrapple
in the left-hand pocket of my coat.’

‘So
that
is how you manage the beast,’ said the farmer’s wife, in a satisfied tone; ‘and that is what becomes of all my goose thrapples. Oh! but you’re a clever fellow, Goodman; and now that I ken the way of it I may go to sleep.’

Assipattle was not tumbling about in the ashes now; he was sitting up in the darkness, with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes.

His opportunity had come at last, and he knew it.

He waited patiently till their heavy breathing told him that his parents were asleep; then he crept over to where his father’s clothes were, and took the goose’s windpipe out of the pocket of his coat, and slipped noiselessly out of the house. Once he was out of it, he ran like lightning to the stable. He saddled and bridled Go-swift, and threw a halter around her neck, and led her to the stable door.

The good mare, unaccustomed to her new groom, pranced, and reared, and plunged; but Assipattle, knowing his father’s secret, clapped her once on the left shoulder, and she stood as still as a stone. Then he mounted her, and gave her two claps on the right shoulder, and the good horse trotted off briskly, giving a loud neigh as she did so.

The unwonted sound, ringing out in the stillness of the night, roused the household, and the Goodman and his six sons came tumbling down the wooden stairs, shouting to one another in confusion that someone was stealing Go-swift.

The farmer was the first to reach the door; and when he saw, in the starlight, the vanishing form of his favourite steed, he cried at the top of his voice:

And when Go-swift heard that she pulled up in a moment. All seemed lost, for the farmer and his sons could run very fast indeed, and it seemed to Assipattle, sitting motionless on Go-swift’s back, that they would very soon make up on him.

But, luckily, he remembered the goose’s thrapple, and he pulled it out of his pocket and whistled through it. In an instant the good mare bounded forward, swift as the wind, and was over the hill and out of sight of its pursuers before they had taken ten steps more.

Day was dawning when the lad came within view of the sea; and there, in front of him, in the water, lay the enormous monster whom he had come so far to slay. Anyone would have said that he was mad even to dream of making such an attempt, for he was but a slim, unarmed youth, and the Mester Stoorworm was so big that men said it would reach the fourth part around the world. And its tongue was jagged at the end like a fork, and with this fork it could sweep whatever it chose into its mouth, and devour it at its leisure.

For all this, Assipattle was not afraid, for he had the heart of a hero underneath his tattered garments. ‘I must be cautious,’ he said to himself, ‘and do by my wits what I cannot do by my strength.’

He climbed down from his seat on Go-swift’s back, and tethered the good steed to a tree, and walked on, looking well about him, till he came to a little cottage on the edge of a little wood.

The door was not locked, so he entered, and found its occupant, an old woman, fast asleep in bed. He did not disturb her, but he took down an iron pot from the shelf, and examined it closely.

‘This will serve my purpose,’ he said; ‘and surely the old dame would not grudge it if she knew it was to save the Princess’s life.’
Then he lifted a live peat from the smouldering fire, and went his way.

Down at the water’s edge he found the King’s boat lying, guarded by a single boatman, with its sails set and its prow turned in the direction of the Mester Stoorworm.

‘It’s a cold morning,’ said Assipattle. ‘Are you not well-nigh frozen sitting there? If you’ll come ashore, and run about, and warm yourself, I will get into the boat and guard it till you return.’

‘A likely story,’ replied the man. ‘And what would the King say if he were to come, as I expect every moment he will do, and find me playing myself on the sand, and his good boat left to a wee laddie like you? ’Twould be as much as my head is worth.’

‘As you will,’ answered Assipattle carelessly, beginning to search among the rocks. ‘In the mean time, I must be looking for a few mussels to roast for my breakfast.’ And after he had gathered the mussels, he began to make a hole in the sand to put the live peat in. The boatman watched him curiously, for he, too, was beginning to feel hungry.

Presently the lad gave a wild shriek, and jumped high in the air. ‘Gold, gold!’ he cried. ‘By the name of Thor, who would have looked to find gold here?’

This was too much for the boatman. Forgetting all about his head and the King, he jumped out of the boat, and, pushing Assipattle aside, began to scrape among the sand with all his might.

While he was doing so, Assipattle seized his pot, jumped into the boat, and pushed off. He was half a mile out to sea before the outwitted man, who, needless to say, could find no gold, noticed what he was about.

And, of course, he was very angry, and the old King was more angry still when he came down to the shore, attended by his nobles and carrying the great sword Sickersnapper, in the vain hope that he, poor feeble old man that he was, might be able in some way to defeat the monster and save his daughter.

But to make such an attempt was beyond his power now that his boat was gone. So he could only stand on the shore, along
with the fast assembling crowd of his subjects, and watch what would befall.

And this was what befell.

Assipattle, sailing slowly over the sea, and watching the Mester Stoorworm intently, noticed that the terrible monster yawned occasionally, as if longing for his weekly feast. And as it yawned a great flood of sea-water went down its throat, and came out again at its huge gills.

So the brave lad took down his sail, and pointed the prow of his boat straight at the monster’s mouth, and the next time it yawned he and his boat were sucked right in, and, like Jonah, went straight down its throat into the dark regions inside its body. On and on the boat floated; but as it went the water grew less, pouring out of the Stoorworm’s gills, until at last it stuck, as it were, on dry land. And Assipattle jumped out, his pot in his hand, and began to explore.

Presently he came to the huge creature’s liver, and, having heard that the liver of a fish is full of oil, he made a hole in it and put in the live peat.

Woe’s me! but there was a conflagration! And Assipattle just got back to his boat in time; for the Mester Stoorworm, in its convulsions, threw the boat right out of its mouth again, and it was flung up, high and dry, on the bare land.

The commotion in the sea was so terrible that the King and his daughter – who by this time had come down to the shore dressed like a bride, in white, ready to be thrown to the monster – and all his courtiers, and all the country-folk, were fain to take refuge on the hilltop, out of harm’s way, and stand and see what happened next.