Sponsken And The Giant [Folk Tales Of Flanders]
There
was once a lad whose face was so badly pitted by the smallpox that everybody
called him Sponsken, which means little sponge. From the very day of his birth
Sponsken had been a great cause of anxiety to his parents, and as he grew older
he became more trouble still, for he was so full of whims and mischief that one
never knew where one had him. He would not learn his lessons, nor work at any
serious task for ten minutes on end. All he seemed to think of was cutting
capers and playing practical jokes on people. At last, in despair, his parents
told their trouble to the village sexton, who was a great friend of the family,
and often came to smoke his pipe with Sponsken’s father in the chimney corner.
“Don’t worry, my
friends,” said the sexton. “I’ve seen young men like your son before, and they
are quite easy to manage if one only goes about it the right way. Just leave him to me. What he
wants is a good fright, and I’ll make it my business to see that he gets it.”
So far so good.
Sponsken’s parents were only too glad to fall in with any plan which seemed
likely to reform their unruly son, so the sexton went off to make his arrangements.
That night he whitened his face with flour, covered himself in a white sheet,
and hid behind a tree on a road along which he knew Sponsken would have to
pass.
It was the dark of
the moon, and the place the sexton had chosen was very lonely. For a long time
he waited; then, hearing Sponsken coming along whistling a merry tune, he
sprang out suddenly from behind his tree and waved his arms in a terrifying
manner.
“Hallo!” said
Sponsken. “Who are you?”
The sexton uttered a
hollow groan.
“What’s the matter?”
said the boy. “Are you ill? If you can’t speak, get out of my way, for I am in
a hurry.”
The sexton groaned
again, louder than before, and waved his arms wildly.
“Come, come,” cried
Sponsken, “I can’t stay here all night. Tell me what you want at once and let
me pass.” Then, as the ghostly figure made no answer, he struck it a blow with
the stout ash-stick which he carried, and the poor sexton fell, stunned, to the
ground. Sponsken stayed long enough to take a glimpse of the ghost’s face and
to recognize the features of the sexton beneath the flour; then he went on his
way homeward, whistling as merrily as before.
When he reached home
his parents gazed at him uneasily. They were very anxious about the success of
their friend’s plan, but Sponsken did not look at all like a lad who had been
frightened—quite the contrary in fact, for he drew his chair up to the table
and set to work upon his supper with an excellent appetite.
“A funny thing
happened to me to-night,” he said carelessly between two bites of an onion. “As
I was walking along the lonely road by the cemetery a white figure jumped out
at me.”
“A wh-white figure!”
stammered his father. “How terrifying! And what did you do, my son?”
“Do?” said Sponsken
cheerfully. “Why, I fetched him a crack on the skull with my staff. He went
down like a ninepin, and I warrant he won’t try to frighten travellers again!”
“Base, ungrateful
boy!” cried his father, rising to his feet. “It was my dear friend Jan the
sexton you struck. All I hope is that you have not killed him.”
“Well, if I have, it
is his own fault,” answered Sponsken. “He should not play tricks on me.” But
his father continued to rage and grumble so long that Sponsken got tired of
hearing him at last, and flung off to bed in a sulk.
“I’ll stand no more
of this,” he said to himself. “Since my own people do not appreciate me, I’ll
go out and seek my own fortune in the world, and they may go on as best they
can.”
The next morning,
therefore, having packed a loaf of bread and a piece of cheese in a bag,
Sponsken set off on his travels, telling nobody where he was going, and taking
nothing else with him except a sparrow which he had tamed and kept since it was
a fledgling. After walking for a long time he came to a forest, and feeling
rather tired he sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree to rest.
Now in this forest
lived a giant who was the most hideous creature one could possibly imagine.
From his forehead jutted a pair of horns; his features were more like those of
a beast than a man, and his finger-nails grew long and curved like the claws of
a wild animal. The giant considered himself lord of the whole wood, and was
very jealous lest anybody should enter his domain. When, therefore, he saw
Sponsken he was very angry, and having pulled up a young tree by the roots to
serve him as a club, he approached the young man, who was sitting with his eyes
closed, and struck him a heavy blow on the shoulder.
In spite of
appearances, Sponsken was not asleep; he was far too wary a person to be caught
napping under such conditions. As a matter of fact, he had seen the giant
before the giant saw him, and he knew that his only chance of escape was to
remain unperturbed and calm. When, therefore, the giant struck him on the
shoulder, he opened his eyes sleepily, rubbed the place, and said with a yawn:
“A pest on these flies! They bite so hard that a fellow can’t sleep for them.”
“You shall sleep
soundly enough in a minute!” muttered the giant, who was enraged at Sponsken’s
nonchalance. “See how you like this!” And he gave the lad a blow on the other
shoulder, harder than before.
“There they are
again!” cried Sponsken, rubbing the place. “My word! They bite even harder on
this side than on the other. It is time I was going!” And he rose from his
seat, starting back with surprise as he affected to see the giant for the first
time.
“So it’s you, is it?”
he cried. “What do you mean by tickling me when I am trying to sleep? If I were
not so kind-hearted I’d break your neck for you!”
“Have a care what you
say,” cried the giant. “Do you know that I have the strength of twenty men and
could crush you between my hands like a kitten?”
“Pooh!” said
Sponsken. “Words are windy things. I have no doubt you could kill a whole regiment
with your breath. But words won’t go with me, my man; you must give me some
proof of your prowess.”
“Proof!” roared the
giant. “See here! I can throw a stone so high into the air that it will not
come down for a quarter of an hour.” And he was as good as his word, for,
picking up a large stone, he flung it with all his strength, and it was more
than a quarter of an hour before it fell again at their feet.
“Can you match that?”
asked the giant with a grin.
“Easily,” said Sponsken. “I will throw a stone
so high that it will not come down at all!” Bending to the ground he picked up
a pebble and showed it to the giant, but very cleverly he managed at the last
moment to exchange it for the sparrow which he carried in his pocket, and this he was able to do because the
giant was rather short-sighted, and, if truth be told, slow-witted as well.
“One, two, three!”
cried Sponsken, and he tossed the bird into the air, and of course it flew up
and up and never came down at all.
“Well, well,” said
the giant, “I never saw such a thing as that in my life before. You are
certainly a wonderful stone-thrower, little man. But can you do this?” And picking up another
stone, he squeezed it so hard between his immense fists that he crushed it into
a fine powder.
“Yes, that is hard to do,” said Sponsken, “but I
think I can go one better. Any oaf, if he be strong enough, can crush a stone
to powder, but it requires skill as well as strength to wring the juice out of
one. Watch me!” So saying, Sponsken adroitly slipped out his piece of cheese,
and squeezed it until the whey dripped from between his fingers.
“Marvellous!” said
the giant. “I confess myself beaten. Let us go into partnership, for there
cannot be two others like us in the whole world.”
“Willingly,” answered
Sponsken, “but what are we to do?”
“Why, as for that,”
said the giant, “the King of this country has promised his daughter’s hand in
marriage, and a great treasure besides, to anybody who can destroy three
ferocious beasts which are devastating his realm. It seems to me that this is a
task we can quite well do together. You, with your quickness and skill, can
trap the beasts, and I can kill them with my club. That done, we will divide
the spoils.”
So it was agreed, and
without wasting a moment the two took the wood together. Before very long they
reached the King’s palace, and sent up a message by one of the lords in waiting
that they would like to see His Majesty.
“And do you mean to
tell me,” asked the King, when he had heard the giant’s tale, “that you can
overcome the three fierce animals by the help of this ugly little pock-marked fellow.”
“Hush! Not so loud, for the love of heaven!”
whispered the giant. “My friend is very touchy about his appearance, and if he
hears you making such slighting remarks it is very likely he will bring the
whole of your palace down about your head!”
“You don’t say so!” whispered
the King in reply, glancing fearfully at the terrible little man. “Well, you
are at liberty to try your luck. The three animals are a bear, a unicorn, and a
wild boar, and at present they are hidden in the wood close by. There you will
find them, but take care of yourselves, for they have already killed scores of
my men.”
“Don’t be afraid,”
answered the giant, “for us this is as easy as playing a game.”
After having partaken
of a good meal the two made their way towards the wood in which the animals
were hidden.
“We must make a plan,” said Sponsken. “Listen to what I propose. You go into the middle of the wood while I remain here on the outskirts; then when you drive the beasts out I will see that they do not escape.”
So it was arranged. The giant went forward into the wood, while Sponsken remained outside, waiting to see what would happen. He had not to wait long, for presently there was a crashing and a tearing of undergrowth and a great bear came lumbering towards him. Sponsken did not like the look of the creature at all, and decided to put as much space between them as possible. Looking here and there for a refuge, he spied a big oak-tree, and quickly climbed its trunk and ensconced himself among the branches. Unfortunately the bear had already seen him, and, raising himself on his hind legs with a dreadful roar, he rushed to the tree and began to climb. In another moment Sponsken would have been lost, but by good chance the tree happened to be hollow, so without hesitation the lad let himself down into the trunk, and finding at the bottom a small hole which led to the open air, he was just able to wriggle through it and escape. The bear followed him into the hollow trunk, but the hole at the bottom was too small for him to get out by, and as there was hardly room to move inside the trunk, the angry creature had to stay where he was, waking all the echoes in the forest with his growling.
The next minute the
giant came running out of the forest. “Have you seen the bear?” he cried. “I
drove him towards you!”
“Don’t worry,”
answered Sponsken coolly; “I’ve shut him up in the tree there to keep him
safe.”
The giant rushed to
the tree and dispatched the bear with one blow of his great club. Then, pulling
out the carcass, he shouldered it, and the two went back to the palace,
congratulating each other on the excellent beginning of their enterprise.
There remained now
the unicorn and the wild boar. Next day Sponsken and the giant went to the
forest again, and since their first plan had been so successful, it was
arranged that they should follow exactly the same course. The giant went into
the depths of the wood to find the unicorn and drive him out, while Sponsken
remained on the borders to capture the animal when he came.
This time the period of waiting was longer, and
Sponsken, leaning against the oak-tree, had almost fallen asleep when a
clattering of hoofs awakened him, and he sprang aside just in time to escape
the unicorn, who, breathing fire from his nostrils, charged down upon him. So great was the
impetus of the beast’s charge that he could not stop himself, and with a mighty
crash he ran full tilt into the tree, driving his horn so far into the trunk
that, although he pulled and struggled, he could not wrench himself free.
When the giant came
up, Sponsken showed him the animal, which was quickly killed with a single blow
of the club.
“Didn’t I manage that
affair well?” asked Sponsken as they went back to the palace.
“You are a wonder!” answered
the giant, and he really believed what he said.
Now only the wild
boar remained, and on the following day the two went to the forest to capture
him also. Once again the same plan was followed, but this time Sponsken kept
his eyes wide open, and when the ferocious beast broke cover he ran as fast as
he could in the direction of the royal chapel. The wild boar followed him, and
a fearsome creature he looked, I assure you, with his wicked little eyes and
his great curved tusks and the hair on his back bristling like the quills of a
porcupine.
Through the open door
of the chapel Sponsken ran, and the boar, snorting with fury, followed him.
Then began a fine chase, round and round the aisles, over the pews, and in and
out of the vestries. At last Sponsken seized a chair, and dashing it against a
window broke several panes, and so made good his escape. While the boar was
still standing stupidly staring at the hole through which he had gone out,
Sponsken ran round to the door, which he closed and locked. Then, having broken
one or two more panes of glass, he sat down quietly by the chapel wall and
began to pare his nails.
A short time
afterwards the giant came rushing up.
“Where is the boar?
Have you let him get away?” he cried.
“Don’t get so excited,”
answered Sponsken. “The boar is safe enough. He’s in the chapel there. I had no
other place to put him, so I flung him through the window!”
“What a wonderful
little man you are!” said the giant gleefully, and he ran off to kill the boar
with one blow of his club. This done, he hoisted the carcass on to his
shoulders and took the road to the palace. Half-way there the weight of the
boar began to tell, for it was a massive beast, and the giant was forced to
stay and rest.
“It is all very
well,” said he, mopping his streaming brow, “but I think you ought to take a
turn with me in carrying this carcass.”
“Not I,” answered Sponsken. “We made an
agreement that my work was done when I captured the beast, and I intend to keep
to it.”
So the giant had to
struggle on as best he could for the rest of the way, grumbling at every step,
while Sponsken followed, laughing up his sleeve, and exceedingly thankful that
he had escaped the task.
When they reached the
palace the two presented themselves before the King and claimed the promised
reward. But now a difficulty arose. It was quite easy to divide the treasure,
but which of them was to have the Princess?
“I think it should be
I,” said the giant, “for I killed the three animals.”
“Not at all,” said
Sponsken. “The Princess should be given to me, for I captured the beasts.”
“A lot of good your
capturing them would have been if I had not killed them!” said the giant.
“How could you have
killed them if I had not caught them first?” answered Sponsken. And so the two
began to quarrel, and neither would give way, and high words passed between
them. Truth to tell, the King was not at all sorry that the dispute had arisen,
for he did not very much relish the idea of his daughter marrying either the
bestial giant or the pock-marked, ugly little fellow who was his companion.
“There is only one
way out of the difficulty,” said the King at last. “We must let fate decide.
Listen to the plan I propose. You shall both of you sleep in the Princess’s
chamber to-night—the giant in a bed on one side of her couch, and Sponsken on
the other. I also will remain in her chamber and watch her carefully. If she
spends most of the night with her face turned towards Sponsken, it shall be a
sign that she is to marry him; if, on the other hand, she favours the giant, he
shall be her
husband; but if she sleeps all night with her face towards neither of you, then
you must both give her up, and be satisfied with the treasure.”
So it was agreed, and
that night the trial took place. Sponsken, however, did not by any means intend
that blind chance should settle so important a matter, and he spent the
intervening time in making certain preparations. First of all he went to the
palace gardens, from which he gathered certain herbs having an aromatic and
beautiful perfume; these he placed in a bag and hid under his clothes. Then
from the woods he gathered all the herbs he could find which had a disagreeable
smell, such as garlic and stinkwort and poisonous fungus; these also he placed
in a bag, and seized an early opportunity, when they came to the Princess’s
chamber, of hiding the bag under the pillow on which the giant’s head was to
rest.
The Princess well
knew the fateful issue which was to be decided in the night, and as she had
firmly made up her mind not to marry either the one or the other of her
suitors, she determined to remain awake all night and to take care to keep her
face turned towards the ceiling. For a time she managed to do so, but before
long drowsiness overcame her, and she slept. Presently she turned over on her
left side and lay with her face turned towards the giant, who began to chuckle
to himself.
“Wait a minute,”
thought Sponsken. “I don’t think the Princess will keep that position long!” And
sure enough, the horrible stench of the herbs in the bag beneath the giant’s
pillow penetrated even to her dreams, and the Princess turned over hurriedly on
the other side. What a change was there! Instead of a disgusting smell which
made her dream of gloomy caverns and noisome things, she found now a delicious
perfume that brought pictures of sunlit gardens all glowing with flowers and
bright-winged butterflies flitting over them. The Princess gave a little sigh
of content, and for the rest of the night she remained with her face turned
towards Sponsken, so that the King had no choice but to declare the little man
the winner.
The Princess, however, refused to abide by the judgment. “I will not marry that vulgar fellow,” she cried. “I will die first! Oh, father, if you love me, think of a means of escape!”
“Do not be afraid, my child,” answered the King. “I will arrange something.” And the next day he took the giant aside and proposed to him that he should rid him of Sponsken, promising a rich reward for the service. The giant’s greed was aroused, and being very jealous of his companion’s success, he was the more ready to fall in with the King’s suggestion.
Fortunately for
himself, Sponsken’s quick wits made him suspicious. He guessed that some
treachery was afoot, and in order to be prepared for emergencies he took a
heavy hammer with him when he retired to bed at night. His suspicions were
justified, for towards midnight the door of his room opened and the giant
entered on tiptoe, carrying a heavy axe with which he intended to dispatch our
friend. No sooner was his foot inside the door, however, than Sponsken jumped
out of bed and sprang at him, looking so fierce that the giant, who was a
coward at heart, and had besides a healthy respect for his companion’s powers,
turned and fled in dismay. Then Sponsken lifted his heavy hammer and struck
three resounding blows upon the floor. The noise awoke everybody in the palace,
and servants, guards, and lords in waiting came flocking to the room to
discover the cause. The King came last of all, a little anxious about the
success of his fine plot, and when he found Sponsken sitting up in bed, quite
unharmed, his face fell.
“What is the matter?”
he stammered.
“Matter?” answered
Sponsken. “Nothing very much! Some person wandered into my room, so I just gave
three taps with my fingers on the wall. It is lucky for you all that I did not
strike the blows with my fist, for had I done so I am afraid there would have
been nothing left of your palace but a heap of dust!”
At these words
everybody turned pale, and the King made haste to protest his undying
friendship for his terrible guest.
As for the giant, he
was in such fear of encountering Sponsken’s resentment that he fled, and nobody
ever saw him again.
Now the poor King did
not know what to do, for his daughter still persisted in her refusal to marry
Sponsken, and he was torn two ways by love and fear. Just at that time,
however, a neighbouring monarch, who was an old enemy of the King’s, declared
war upon him, and
this offered another opportunity for delay. Calling Sponsken before him, the
King proposed that he should prove his valour by challenging the enemy king to
mortal combat. Sponsken agreed; but his fame had already been noised abroad,
and the challenge was refused.
“Very well,” said the
King, who was at the end of his resources. “As my prospective son-in-law you
ought to lead my armies into battle. I will place my own charger at your
disposal, and I look to you to save my country from defeat.”
Here was a pretty
kettle of fish! Sponsken had never ridden a horse in his life, and he had not
the slightest knowledge of warfare. To make matters worse, the steed in
question was a notoriously vicious brute who would allow nobody but his own
master to mount him. Already he had accounted for several grooms and stablemen,
whom he had kicked to death.
Sponsken commanded that
the steed should be led to the borders of the forest and tied by the bridle to
a tree. He had not the slightest intention of trying to mount the brute, and
his plan was to wait until the attendants had gone away and then to slip off
unobserved. Fate, however, was too much for him, for hardly was the horse
safely tied up than couriers came spurring along the road to say that the enemy
king was advancing at the head of his army, and was at that very moment less
than half a mile away.
All the attendants fled
at once, and Sponsken himself was so overcome by terror that, without thinking
what he was doing, he jumped upon the back of the steed, and, forgetting that
it was tied to the tree, dug his sharp spurs into its side. The horse plunged
and reared, champing at the bit and doing its best to dislodge Sponsken from
the saddle, but the lad clung on for dear life. At last, finding all its
efforts unavailing, the horse dragged the tree up by the roots and charged
forward in a straight line towards the advancing enemy. Almost dislodged from
his seat by the sudden jerk, Sponsken stretched out his hand and grasped the
branches of the tree, which swung in a terrifying manner at his side, promising
every moment to hurl him from the saddle, and the result was that to the enemy
army it appeared as though he were charging down upon them at full speed,
bearing a tree as a club. Filled with dismay at the terrifying sight, the
soldiers of the enemy king fled in all directions and hid themselves in the
woods and in the crevices of the rocks. Sponsken rode on for the simple reason
that he could do nothing else, right into the enemy’s camp, where the steed
came to a standstill and our hero was able to jump down from its back. Entering
the king’s tent, he helped himself to all the documents and articles of value
he could find; then, having cut the tree from the bridle, he remounted the horse,
which was now quite tame and docile, and rode back to the palace.
When the King heard that the enemy was routed he
was overjoyed, and he recognized that a man who could perform such a feat
single-handed was not to be treated lightly. His daughter, however, was still firm in her refusal
to marry Sponsken, and so the King made him an offer of half his kingdom if he
would release him from his promise and allow the Princess to go free. Sponsken
accepted his terms and married a girl who, although she was not a princess, was
nevertheless very pretty. Their wedding was celebrated with great pomp and they
lived together very happily for the rest of their lives.
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