The Wood Maiden
:
Czechoslovak Fairy Tales
THE STORY OF BETUSHKA AND THE GOLDEN BIRCH LEAVES
Betushka was a little girl. Her mother was a poor widow with nothing
but a tumble-down cottage and two little nanny-goats. But poor as they
were Betushka was always cheerful. From spring till autumn she
pastured the goats in the birch wood. Every morning when she left home
her mother gave her a little basket with a slice of bread and a
spindl
.
"See that you bring home a full spindle," her mother always said.
Betushka had no distaff, so she wound the flax around her head. Then
she took the little basket and went romping and singing behind the
goats to the birch wood. When they got there she sat down under a tree
and pulled the fibers of the flax from her head with her left hand,
and with her right hand let down the spindle so that it went humming
along the ground. All the while she sang until the woods echoed and
the little goats nibbled away at the leaves and grass.
When the sun showed midday, she put the spindle aside, called the
goats and gave them a mouthful of bread so that they wouldn't stray,
and ran off into the woods to hunt berries or any other wild fruit
that was in season. Then when she had finished her bread and fruit,
she jumped up, folded her arms, and danced and sang.
The sun smiled at her through the green of the trees and the little
goats, resting on the grass, thought: "What a merry little shepherdess
we have!"
After her dance she went back to her spinning and worked
industriously. In the evening when she got home her mother never had
to scold her because the spindle was empty.
One day at noon just after she had eaten and, as usual, was going to
dance, there suddenly stood before her a most beautiful maiden. She
was dressed in white gauze that was fine as a spider's web. Long
golden hair fell down to her waist and on her head she wore a wreath
of woodland flowers.
Betushka was speechless with surprise and alarm.
The maiden smiled at her and said in a sweet voice:
"Betushka, do you like to dance?"
Her manner was so gracious that Betushka no longer felt afraid, and
answered:
"Oh, I could dance all day long!"
"Come, then, let us dance together," said the maiden. "I'll teach
you."
With that she tucked up her skirt, put her arm about Betushka's waist,
and they began to dance. At once such enchanting music sounded over
their heads that Betushka's heart went one-two with the dancing. The
musicians sat on the branches of the birch trees. They were clad in
little frock coats, black and gray and many-colored. It was a
carefully chosen orchestra that had gathered at the bidding of the
beautiful maiden: larks, nightingales, finches, linnets, thrushes,
blackbirds, and showy mocking-birds.
Betushka's cheeks burned, her eyes shone. She forgot her spinning, she
forgot her goats. All she could do was gaze at her partner who was
moving with such grace and lightness that the grass didn't seem to
bend under her slender feet.
They danced from noon till sundown and yet Betushka wasn't the least
bit tired. Then they stopped dancing, the music ceased, and the maiden
disappeared as suddenly as she had come.
Betushka looked around. The sun was sinking behind the wood. She put
her hands to the unspun flax on her head and remembered the spindle
that was lying unfilled on the grass. She took down the flax and laid
it with the spindle in the little basket. Then she called the goats
and started home.
She reproached herself bitterly that she had allowed the beautiful
maiden to beguile her and she told herself that another time she would
not listen to her. She was so quiet that the little goats, missing her
merry song, looked around to see whether it was really their own
little shepherdess who was following them. Her mother, too, wondered
why she didn't sing and questioned her.
"Are you sick, Betushka?"
"No, dear mother, I'm not sick, but I've been singing too much and my
throat is dry."
She knew that her mother did not reel the yarn at once, so she hid the
spindle and the unspun flax, hoping to make up tomorrow what she had
not done today. She did not tell her mother one word about the
beautiful maiden.
The next day she felt cheerful again and as she drove the goats to
pasture she sang merrily. At the birch wood she sat down to her
spinning, singing all the while, for with a song on the lips work
falls from the hands more easily.
Noonday came. Betushka gave a bit of bread to each of the goats and
ran off to the woods for her berries. Then she ate her luncheon.
"Ah, my little goats," she sighed, as she brushed up the crumbs for
the birds, "I mustn't dance today."
"Why mustn't you dance today?" a sweet voice asked, and there stood
the beautiful maiden as though she had fallen from the clouds.
Betushka was worse frightened than before and she closed her eyes
tight. When the maiden repeated her question, Betushka answered
timidly:
"Forgive me, beautiful lady, for not dancing with you. If I dance with
you I cannot spin my stint and then my mother will scold me. Today
before the sun sets I must make up for what I lost yesterday."
"Come, child, and dance," the maiden said. "Before the sun sets we'll
find some way of getting that spinning done!"
She tucked up her skirt, put her arm about Betushka, the musicians in
the treetops struck up, and off they whirled. The maiden danced more
beautifully than ever. Betushka couldn't take her eyes from her. She
forgot her goats, she forgot her spinning. All she wanted to do was to
dance on forever.
At sundown the maiden paused and the music stopped. Then Betushka,
clasping her hands to her head, where the unspun flax was twined,
burst into tears. The beautiful maiden took the flax from her head,
wound it round the stem of a slender birch, grasped the spindle, and
began to spin. The spindle hummed along the ground and filled in no
time. Before the sun sank behind the woods all the flax was spun, even
that which was left over from the day before. The maiden handed
Betushka the full spindle and said:
"Remember my words:
"Reel and grumble not!
Reel and grumble not!"
When she said this, she vanished as if the earth had swallowed her.
Betushka was very happy now and she thought to herself on her way
home: "Since she is so good and kind, I'll dance with her again if she
asks me. Oh, how I hope she does!"
She sang her merry little song as usual and the goats trotted
cheerfully along.
She found her mother vexed with her, for she had wanted to reel
yesterday's yarn and had discovered that the spindle was not full.
"What were you doing yesterday," she scolded, "that you didn't spin
your stint?"
Betushka hung her head. "Forgive me, mother. I danced too long." Then
she showed her mother today's spindle and said: "See, today I more
than made up for yesterday."
Her mother said no more but went to milk the goats and Betushka put
away the spindle. She wanted to tell her mother her adventure, but she
thought to herself: "No, I'll wait. If the beautiful lady comes again,
I'll ask her who she is and then I'll tell mother." So she said
nothing.
On the third morning she drove the goats as usual to the birch wood.
The goats went to pasture and Betushka, sitting down under a tree,
began to spin and sing. When the sun pointed to noon, she laid her
spindle on the grass, gave the goats a mouthful of bread, gathered
some strawberries, ate her luncheon, and then, giving the crumbs to
the birds, she said cheerily:
"Today, my little goats, I will dance for you!"
She jumped up, folded her arms, and was about to see whether she could
move as gracefully as the beautiful maiden, when the maiden herself
stood before her.
"Let us dance together," she said. She smiled at Betushka, put her
arm about her, and as the music above their heads began to play, they
whirled round and round with flying feet. Again Betushka forgot the
spindle and the goats. Again she saw nothing but the beautiful maiden
whose body was lithe as a willow shoot. Again she heard nothing but
the enchanting music to which her feet danced of themselves.
They danced from noon till sundown. Then the maiden paused and the
music ceased. Betushka looked around. The sun was already set behind
the woods. She clasped her hands to her head and looking down at the
unfilled spindle she burst into tears.
"Oh, what will my mother say?" she cried.
"Give me your little basket," the maiden said, "and I will put
something in it that will more than make up for today's stint."
Betushka handed her the basket and the maiden took it and vanished. In
a moment she was back. She returned the basket and said:
"Look not inside until you're home!
Look not inside until you're home!"
As she said these words she was gone as if a wind had blown her away.
Betushka wanted awfully to peep inside but she was afraid to. The
basket was so light that she wondered whether there was anything at
all in it. Was the lovely lady only fooling her? Halfway home she
peeped in to see.
Imagine her feelings when she found the basket was full of birch
leaves! Then indeed did Betushka burst into tears and reproach herself
for being so simple. In her vexation she threw out a handful of leaves
and was going to empty the basket when she thought to herself:
"No, I'll keep what's left as litter for the goats."
She was almost afraid to go home. She was so quiet that again the
little goats wondered what ailed their shepherdess.
Her mother was waiting for her in great excitement.
"For heaven's sake, Betushka, what kind of a spool did you bring home
yesterday?"
"Why?" Betushka faltered.
"When you went away this morning I started to reel that yarn. I reeled
and reeled and the spool remained full. One skein, two skeins, three
skeins, and still the spool was full. 'What evil spirit has spun
that?' I cried out impatiently, and instantly the yarn disappeared
from the spindle as if blown away. Tell me, what does it mean?"
So Betushka confessed and told her mother all she knew about the
beautiful maiden.
"Oh," cried her mother in amazement, "that was a wood maiden! At noon
and midnight the wood maidens dance. It is well you are not a little
boy or she might have danced you to death! But they are often kind to
little girls and sometimes make them rich presents. Why didn't you
tell me? If I hadn't grumbled, I could have had yarn enough to fill
the house!"
Betushka thought of the little basket and wondered if there might be
something under the leaves. She took out the spindle and unspun flax
and looked in once more.
"Mother!" she cried. "Come here and see!"
Her mother looked and clapped her hands. The birch leaves were all
turned to gold!
Betushka reproached herself bitterly: "She told me not to look inside
until I got home, but I didn't obey."
"It's lucky you didn't empty the whole basket," her mother said.
The next morning she herself went to look for the handful of leaves
that Betushka had thrown away. She found them still lying in the road
but they were only birch leaves.
But the riches which Betushka brought home were enough. Her mother
bought a farm with fields and cattle. Betushka had pretty clothes and
no longer had to pasture goats.
But no matter what she did, no matter how cheerful and happy she was,
still nothing ever again gave her quite so much pleasure as the dance
with the wood maiden. She often went to the birch wood in the hope of
seeing the maiden again. But she never did.