<h3><SPAN name="chap169"></SPAN>169 The Hut in the Forest</h3>
<p>A poor wood-cutter lived with his wife and three daughters in a little hut on
the edge of a lonely forest. One morning as he was about to go to his work, he
said to his wife, “Let my dinner be brought into the forest to me by my
eldest daughter, or I shall never get my work done, and in order that she may
not miss her way,” he added, “I will take a bag of millet with me
and strew the seeds on the path.” When, therefore, the sun was just above
the center of the forest, the girl set out on her way with a bowl of soup, but
the field-sparrows, and wood-sparrows, larks and finches, blackbirds and
siskins had picked up the millet long before, and the girl could not find the
track. Then trusting to chance, she went on and on, until the sun sank and
night began to fall. The trees rustled in the darkness, the owls hooted, and
she began to be afraid. Then in the distance she perceived a light which
glimmered between the trees. “There ought to be some people living there,
who can take me in for the night,” thought she, and went up to the light.
It was not long before she came to a house the windows of which were all
lighted up. She knocked, and a rough voice from inside cried, “Come
in.” The girl stepped into the dark entrance, and knocked at the door of
the room. “Just come in,” cried the voice, and when she opened the
door, an old gray-haired man was sitting at the table, supporting his face with
both hands, and his white beard fell down over the table almost as far as the
ground. By the stove lay three animals, a hen, a cock, and a brindled cow. The
girl told her story to the old man, and begged for shelter for the night. The
man said,</p>
<p class="poem">
“Pretty little hen,<br/>
Pretty little cock,<br/>
And pretty brindled cow,<br/>
What say ye to that?”</p>
<p>“Duks,” answered the animals, and that must have meant, “We
are willing,” for the old man said, “Here you shall have shelter
and food, go to the fire, and cook us our supper.” The girl found in the
kitchen abundance of everything, and cooked a good supper, but had no thought
of the animals. She carried the full dishes to the table, seated herself by the
gray-haired man, ate and satisfied her hunger. When she had had enough, she
said, “But now I am tired, where is there a bed in which I can lie down,
and sleep?” The animals replied,</p>
<p class="poem">
“Thou hast eaten with him,<br/>
Thou hast drunk with him,<br/>
Thou hast had no thought for us,<br/>
So find out for thyself where thou canst pass the night.”</p>
<p>Then said the old man, “Just go upstairs, and thou wilt find a room with
two beds, shake them up, and put white linen on them, and then I, too, will
come and lie down to sleep.” The girl went up, and when she had shaken
the beds and put clean sheets on, she lay down in one of them without waiting
any longer for the old man. After some time, however, the gray-haired man came,
took his candle, looked at the girl and shook his head. When he saw that she
had fallen into a sound sleep, he opened a trap-door, and let her down into the
cellar.</p>
<p>Late at night the wood-cutter came home, and reproached his wife for leaving
him to hunger all day. “It is not my fault,” she replied,
“the girl went out with your dinner, and must have lost herself, but she
is sure to come back to-morrow.” The wood-cutter, however, arose before
dawn to go into the forest, and requested that the second daughter should take
him his dinner that day. “I will take a bag with lentils,” said he;
“the seeds are larger than millet, the girl will see them better, and
can’t lose her way.” At dinner-time, therefore, the girl took out
the food, but the lentils had disappeared. The birds of the forest had picked
them up as they had done the day before, and had left none. The girl wandered
about in the forest until night, and then she too reached the house of the old
man, was told to go in, and begged for food and a bed. The man with the white
beard again asked the animals,</p>
<p class="poem">
“Pretty little hen,<br/>
Pretty little cock,<br/>
And pretty brindled cow,<br/>
What say ye to that?”</p>
<p>The animals again replied “Duks,” and everything happened just as
it had happened the day before. The girl cooked a good meal, ate and drank with
the old man, and did not concern herself about the animals, and when she
inquired about her bed they answered,</p>
<p class="poem">
“Thou hast eaten with him,<br/>
Thou hast drunk with him,<br/>
Thou hast had no thought for us,<br/>
To find out for thyself where thou canst pass the night.”</p>
<p>When she was asleep the old man came, looked at her, shook his head, and let
her down into the cellar.</p>
<p>On the third morning the wood-cutter said to his wife, “Send our youngest
child out with my dinner to-day, she has always been good and obedient, and
will stay in the right path, and not run about after every wild humble-bee, as
her sisters did.” The mother did not want to do it, and said, “Am I
to lose my dearest child, as well?”</p>
<p>“Have no fear,” he replied, “the girl will not go astray; she
is too prudent and sensible; besides I will take some peas with me, and strew
them about. They are still larger than lentils, and will show her the
way.” But when the girl went out with her basket on her arm, the
wood-pigeons had already got all the peas in their crops, and she did not know
which way she was to turn. She was full of sorrow and never ceased to think how
hungry her father would be, and how her good mother would grieve, if she did
not go home. At length when it grew dark, she saw the light and came to the
house in the forest. She begged quite prettily to be allowed to spend the night
there, and the man with the white beard once more asked his animals,</p>
<p class="poem">
“Pretty little hen,<br/>
Pretty little cock,<br/>
And beautiful brindled cow,<br/>
What say ye to that?”</p>
<p>“Duks,” said they. Then the girl went to the stove where the
animals were lying, and petted the cock and hen, and stroked their smooth
feathers with her hand, and caressed the brindled cow between her horns, and
when, in obedience to the old man’s orders, she had made ready some good
soup, and the bowl was placed upon the table, she said, “Am I to eat as
much as I want, and the good animals to have nothing? Outside is food in
plenty, I will look after them first.” So she went and brought some
barley and stewed it for the cock and hen, and a whole armful of sweet-smelling
hay for the cow. “I hope you will like it, dear animals,” said she,
“and you shall have a refreshing draught in case you are thirsty.”
Then she fetched in a bucketful of water, and the cock and hen jumped on to the
edge of it and dipped their beaks in, and then held up their heads as the birds
do when they drink, and the brindled cow also took a hearty draught. When the
animals were fed, the girl seated herself at the table by the old man, and ate
what he had left. It was not long before the cock and the hen began to thrust
their heads beneath their wings, and the eyes of the cow likewise began to
blink. Then said the girl, “Ought we not to go to bed?”</p>
<p class="poem">
“Pretty little hen,<br/>
Pretty little cock,<br/>
And pretty brindled cow,<br/>
What say ye to that?”</p>
<p>The animals answered “Duks,”</p>
<p class="poem">
“Thou hast eaten with us,<br/>
Thou hast drunk with us,<br/>
Thou hast had kind thought for all of us,<br/>
We wish thee good-night.”</p>
<p>Then the maiden went upstairs, shook the feather-beds, and laid clean sheets on
them, and when she had done it the old man came and lay down on one of the
beds, and his white beard reached down to his feet. The girl lay down on the
other, said her prayers, and fell asleep.</p>
<p>She slept quietly till midnight, and then there was such a noise in the house
that she awoke. There was a sound of cracking and splitting in every corner,
and the doors sprang open, and beat against the walls. The beams groaned as if
they were being torn out of their joints, it seemed as if the staircase were
falling down, and at length there was a crash as if the entire roof had fallen
in. As, however, all grew quiet once more, and the girl was not hurt, she
stayed quietly lying where she was, and fell asleep again. But when she woke up
in the morning with the brilliancy of the sunshine, what did her eyes behold?
She was lying in a vast hall, and everything around her shone with royal
splendor; on the walls, golden flowers grew up on a ground of green silk, the
bed was of ivory, and the canopy of red velvet, and on a chair close by, was a
pair of shoes embroidered with pearls. The girl believed that she was in a
dream, but three richly clad attendants came in, and asked what orders she
would like to give? “If you will go,” she replied, “I will
get up at once and make ready some soup for the old man, and then I will feed
the pretty little hen, and the cock, and the beautiful brindled cow.” She
thought the old man was up already, and looked round at his bed; he, however,
was not lying in it, but a stranger. And while she was looking at him, and
becoming aware that he was young and handsome, he awoke, sat up in bed, and
said, “I am a King’s son, and was bewitched by a wicked witch, and
made to live in this forest, as an old gray-haired man; no one was allowed to
be with me but my three attendants in the form of a cock, a hen, and a brindled
cow. The spell was not to be broken until a girl came to us whose heart was so
good that she showed herself full of love, not only towards mankind, but
towards animals—and that thou hast done, and by thee at midnight we were
set free, and the old hut in the forest was changed back again into my royal
palace.” And when they had arisen, the King’s son ordered the three
attendants to set out and fetch the father and mother of the girl to the
marriage feast. “But where are my two sisters?” inquired the
maiden. “I have locked them in the cellar, and to-morrow they shall be
led into the forest, and shall live as servants to a charcoal-burner, until
they have grown kinder, and do not leave poor animals to suffer hunger.”</p>
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