Having thanked the old woman with tears in her eyes for her
hospitality, and for the good news she had given her, the Princess set
out on her journey and rested neither night nor day, so great was her
longing to see her husband again. On and on she walked until her last
pair of shoes fell in pieces. So she threw them away and went on with
bare feet, not heeding the bogs nor the thorns that wounded her, nor
the stones that bruised her. At last she reached a beautiful green
meadow on the edge of a wood. Her heart was cheered by the sight of the
flowers and the soft cool grass, and she sat down and rested for a
little. But hearing the birds chirping to their mates among the trees
made her think with longing of her husband, and she wept bitterly, and
taking her child in her arms, and her bundle of chicken bones on her
shoulder, she entered the wood.
For three days and three nights she struggled through it, but could
find nothing. She was quite worn out with weariness and hunger, and
even her staff was no further help to her, for in her many wanderings
it had become quite blunted. She almost gave up in despair, but made
one last great effort, and suddenly in a thicket she came upon the sort
of house that the mother of the Wind had described. It had no windows,
and the door was up in the roof. Round the house she went, in search of
steps, but could find none. What was she to do? How was she to get in?
She thought and thought, and tried in vain to climb up to the door.
Then suddenly she be-thought her of the chicken bones that she had
dragged all that weary way, and she said to herself: ‘They would not
all have told me to take such good care of these bones if they had not
had some good reason for doing so. Perhaps now, in my hour of need,
they may be of use to me.’
So she took the bones out of her bundle, and having thought for a
moment, she placed the two ends together. To her surprise they stuck
tight; then she added the other bones, till she had two long poles the
height of the house; these she placed against the wall, at a distance
of a yard from one another. Across them she placed the other bones,
piece by piece, like the steps of a ladder. As soon as one step was
finished she stood upon it and made the next one, and then the next,
till she was close to the door. But just as she got near the top she
noticed that there were no bones left for the last rung of the ladder.
What was she to do? Without that last step the whole ladder was
useless. She must have lost one of the bones. Then suddenly an idea
came to her. Taking a knife she chopped off her little finger, and
placing it on the last step, it stuck as the bones had done. The ladder
was complete, and with her child on her arm she entered the door of the
house. Here she found everything in perfect order. Having taken some
food, she laid the child down to sleep in a trough that was on the
floor, and sat down herself to rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account