Chapter Chapter 158 · The Hut in the Forest

. The Hut in the Forest

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,

“Pretty little hen,

Pretty little cock,

And pretty brindled cow,

What say ye to that?”

“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,

“Thou hast eaten with him,

Thou hast drunk with him,

Thou hast had no thought for us,

So find out for thyself where thou canst pass the night.”

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.

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,

“Pretty little hen,

Pretty little cock,

And pretty brindled cow,

What say ye to that?”

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,

“Thou hast eaten with him,

Thou hast drunk with him,

Thou hast had no thought for us,

To find out for thyself where thou canst pass the night.”

When she was asleep the old man came, looked at her, shook his head,

and let her down into the cellar.

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?”

“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,

“Pretty little hen,

Pretty little cock,

And beautiful brindled cow,

What say ye to that?”

“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?”

“Pretty little hen,

Pretty little cock,

And pretty brindled cow,

What say ye to that?”

The animals answered “Duks,”

“Thou hast eaten with us,

Thou hast drunk with us,

Thou hast had kind thought for all of us,

We wish thee good-night.”

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.

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.”