is doubtless how it fell out with the black-coloured man,” said he to himself, as soon as she was gone; “but neither can I own that I was matched by such a little old wife, nor yet can I tell the same story about the horsemen. I know what I will do: I will fetch up a yoke of oxen, and make them tramp about the place, and when the others come home, I will say some men came by with a herd of cattle, and, overpowering me, carried off the victuals.” All this he did; and when his companions came home, and saw for themselves the marks the oxen had made in tramping up the soil, they said, “He hath spoken true things.”
The day after, Massang went hunting, and took with him the black-coloured man and the green-coloured man. The white-coloured man being left in charge of the homestead, set himself to prepare the dinner. Nor was it long before the same little old woman who had visited his companions made her appearance; and soon she had made an end of all the provisions. “This is doubtless how it fell out with the green-coloured man yesterday, and the black-coloured man the day before,” said the white-coloured man to himself; “but neither can I own any more than they that I was overmatched by such a little old wife, nor yet can I tell the same story as they.” So he fetched a mule in from the field, and made it trot all round the dwelling, that when his companions came in he might tell them that a party of merchants had been by, with a file of mules carrying their packs of merchandize, who had held him bound, and eaten up the provisions.
All this he did; and when his companions came home, and saw for themselves the marks of the mule-hoofs all round the dwelling, they said, “He hath spoken true things.”
The next day it was Massang’s turn to stay at home, nor did he neglect the duty which fell upon him of cooking the food against the return of the rest. As he sat thus occupied, up came the little old woman, as on all the other days.
“Lackaday!” she exclaimed, as she set eyes on him. “Methinks I see a youngster cooking good food!” And to him she cried, in her imperious tone, “Listen to me now, and give me some of thy milk and meat to taste.”
When Massang saw her, he said within himself, “Surely now this is she who hath appeared to the other three; and when they said that strangers had broken in, and overpowered them, and stolen the food, was it not that she is a witch-woman and enchanted it away. She only asks to taste it; but if I do her bidding, who knows what may follow?” So he observed her, that he might discover what way there was of over-matching her; thus he espied her bundle, and bethought him it contained the means of her witcheries. To possess himself of it he had first to devise the means of getting her to go an errand, and leave it behind her.
“Belike you could help me to some fresh water, good wife,” he said, in a simple, coaxing tone; and she, thinking to serve her purpose by keeping on good terms with him, replied—
“That can I; but give me wherewithal to fetch it.”
To keep her longer absent, he gave her a pail with a hole in it, with which she went out. Looking after her, he saw that she made her way straight up to the clouds, and squeezed one into her pail, but no sooner was it poured in, than it ran out again. Meantime, he possessed himself of her bundle, and turned it over; withal it was not so big as an apple, it contained many things: a hank of catgut, which he exchanged for a hank of hempen cord; an iron hammer, which he exchanged for a wooden mallet; and a pair of iron pincers, which he exchanged for wooden ones.
He had hardly tied up the bundle again, when the old woman came back, very angry with the trick that had been played upon her with the leaking pail, and exclaiming, “How shall water be brought in a pail where there is a hole?” Then she added further, and in a yet angrier key, “If thou wilt not give me to taste of thy food, beware! for then all that thou hast becomes mine.” And when she found that he heeded her not, but went on with what he was doing, just as if she had not spoken, she cried out, furiously—
“If we are not to be on good terms, we must e’en match our strength; if we are not to have peace, we must have war; if I may not eat with you, I will fight you.”
“That I am ready for,” answered Massang, as one sure of an easy victory.
“Not so confident!” replied the old one. “Though I am small and thou so big, yet have I overcome mightier ones than thou.”
“In what shall we match our strength?” said Massang, not heeding her banter.
“We will have three trials,” replied the old one; “the cord proof, the hammer proof, and the pincers proof. And first the cord proof. I will first bind thee, and if thou canst burst my bonds, well; then thou shalt also bind me.”
Then Massang saw that he had done well to possess himself of her instruments, but he gave assent to her mode of proof, and let her bind him as tight as ever she would; but as she had only the hempen cord to bind him with, which he had put in her bundle in place of the catgut, he broke it easily with his strength, and set himself free again. Then he bound her with the catgut, so that she was not able by any means to unloose herself.
“True, herein thou hast conquered,” she owned, as she lay bound and unable to move, “but now we will have the pincers proof.” And as he had promised to wage three trials with her, he set her free.
Then with her pincers she took him by the breast; but, as he had changed her iron pincers for the wooden ones, he hardly felt the pinch, and she did him no harm. But when, with her iron pincers, he seized her, she writhed and struggled so that he pulled out a piece of flesh as big as an earthen pot, and she cried out in great pain.—
“Of a truth thou art a formidable fellow, but now we will have the hammer proof,” and she made Massang lie down; but when she would have given him a powerful blow on the chest with her iron hammer, the handle of the wooden mallet Massang had given her in its stead broke short off, and she was not able to hurt him. But Massang made her iron hammer glowing hot in the fire, and belaboured her both on the head and body so that she was glad to escape at the top of her speed and howling wildly.
As she flew past, Massang’s three companions came in from hunting and said, “Surely now you have had a trial to endure.” And Massang answered—
“Of a truth you are miserable fellows all, and moreover have spoken that which is not true. Was it like men to let yourselves be overmatched by a little old wife? But now I have tamed her, let be. Let us go and seek for her corpse; maybe we shall find treasure in the place where she lays it.”
When they heard him speak of treasure they willingly went out after him, and, following the track of blood which had fallen from the witch-woman’s wounds as she went along, they came to a place where was an awful cleft in a mighty rock, and peeping through they saw, far below, the bloody body of the old witch-woman, lying on a heap of gold and jewels and shining adamant armour and countless precious things.
Then Massang said, “Shall you three go down and hand me up the spoil by means of a rope of which I will hold the end, or shall I go down and hand it up to you?”
But they three all made answer together, “This woman is manifestly none other but a Schimnu2. We dare not go near her. Go you down.”
So Massang let himself down by the rope, and sent up the spoil by the same means to his companions, who when they had possession of it said thus to one another—
“If we draw Massang up again, we cannot deny in verity that the spoil is his, as he has won it in every way, but if we leave him down below it becomes ours.” So they left him below, and when he looked that they should have hauled him up they gave never a sign or sound. When he saw that, he said thus to himself, “My three companions have left me here that they may enjoy the spoil alone. For me nothing is left but to die!”
But as it grieved him so to die in his health and strength, he cast about him to see whether in all that cave which had been so full of valuables there was not something stored that was good for food, yet found he nothing save three cherry-stones.
So he took the cherry-stones and planted them in the earth, saying, “If I be truly Massang, may these be three full-grown cherry-trees by the time I wake; but if not, then