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îñ"ò îøëæ ñéôåøé òí åôåì÷ìåø |
C. F. F |
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VALIANT VICKY, THE BRAVE
WEAVER[1]
NCE upon a time there
lived a little weaver, by name Victor Prince, but because his head was big, his
legs thin, and he was altogether small, and weak, and ridiculous, his
neighbours called him Vicky–Little Vicky the Weaver.
But
despite his size, his thin legs, and his ridiculous appearance, Vicky was very
valiant, and loved to talk for hours of his bravery, and the heroic acts
he would perform if Fate gave him an opportunity. Only Fate did not, and in
consequence Vicky remained little Vicky the valiant weaver, who was laughed at
by all for his boasting.
Now
one day, as Vicky was sitting at his loom, weaving, a mosquito settled on his
left hand just as he was throwing the shuttle from his right hand, and by
chance, after gliding swiftly through the warp, the shuttle came flying into
his left hand on the very spot where the mosquito had settled, and squashed it.
Seeing this, Vicky became desperately excited: 'It is as I have always said,'
he cried; 'if I only had the chance I knew I could show my mettle! Now, I'd
like to know how many people could have done that? Killing a mosquito is easy,
and throwing a shuttle is easy, but to do both at one time is a mighty
different affair! It is easy enough to shoot a great hulking man–there is
something to see, something to aim at; then guns and crossbows are made for
shooting; but to shoot a mosquito with a shuttle is quite another
thing. That requires a man!'
The
more he thought over the matter, the more elated he became over his skill and
bravery, until he determined that he would no longer suffer himself to be
called 'Vicky.' No! now that he had shown his mettle he would be called
'Victor'–'Victor Prince'–or better still, 'Prince Victor'; that was a name
worthy his merits. But when he announced this determination to the neighbours,
they roared with laughter, and though some did call him Prince Victor, it was
with such sniggering and giggling and mock reverence that the little man flew
home in a rage. Here he met with no better reception, for his wife, a fine
handsome young woman, who was tired to death by her ridiculous little husband's
whims and fancies, sharply bade him hold his tongue and not make a fool of
himself. Upon this, beside himself with pride and mortification, he seized her
by the hair, and beat her most unmercifully. Then, resolving to stay no longer
in a town where his merits were unrecognised, he bade her prepare some bread
for a journey, and set about packing his bundle.
'I
will go into the world!' he said to himself. 'The man who can shoot a mosquito
dead with a shuttle ought not to hide his light under a bushel.' So off he set,
with his bundle, his shuttle, and a loaf of bread tied up in a kerchief.
Now
as he journeyed he came to a city where a dreadful elephant came daily to make
a meal off the inhabitants. Many mighty warriors had gone against it, but none
had returned. On hearing this the valiant little weaver thought to himself,
'Now is my chance! A great haystack of an elephant will be a fine mark to a man
who has shot a mosquito with a shuttle!' So he went to the King, and announced
that he proposed single-handed to meet and slay the elephant. At first the King
thought the little man was mad, but as he persisted in his words, he told him
that he was free to try his luck if he chose to run the risk; adding that many
better men than he had failed.
Nevertheless,
our brave weaver was nothing daunted; he even refused to take either sword or
bow, but strutted out to meet the elephant armed only with his shuttle.
'It
is a weapon I thoroughly understand, good people,' he replied boastfully to
those who urged him to choose some more deadly arm, 'and it has done its work
in its time, I can tell you!'
It
was a beautiful sight to see little Vicky swaggering out to meet his enemy,
while the townsfolk flocked to the walls to witness the fight. Never was such a
valiant weaver till the elephant, descrying its tiny antagonist, trumpeted
fiercely, and charged right at him, and then, alas! all the little man's
courage disappeared, and forgetting his new name of Prince Victor he dropped
his bundle, his shuttle, and his bread, and bolted away as fast as Vicky's legs
could carry him.
Now
it so happened that his wife had made the bread ever so sweet, and had put all
sorts of tasty spices in it, because she wanted to hide the flavour of the
poison she had put in it also; for she was a wicked, revengeful woman, who wanted
to be rid of her tiresome, whimsical little husband. And so, as the elephant
charged past, it smelt the delicious spices, and catching up the bread with its
long trunk, gobbled it up without stopping an instant. Meanwhile fear lent
speed to Vicky's short legs, but though he ran like a hare, the elephant soon
overtook him. In vain he doubled and doubled, and the beast's hot breath was on
him, when in sheer desperation he turned, hoping to bolt through the enormous
creature's legs; being half blind with fear, however, he ran full tilt against
them instead. Now, as luck would have it, at that very moment the poison took
effect, and the elephant fell to the ground stone dead.
When
the spectators saw the monster fall they could scarcely believe their eyes, but
their astonishment was greater still when, running up to the scene of action,
they found Valiant Vicky seated in triumph on the elephant's head, calmly
mopping his face with his handkerchief.
'I
had to pretend to run away,' he explained, 'or the coward would never have
engaged me. Then I gave him a little push, and he fell down, as you see.
Elephants are big beasts, but they have no strength to speak of.'
The
good folks were amazed at the careless way in which Valiant Vicky spoke of his
achievement, and as they had been too far off to see very distinctly what had
occurred, they went and told the King that the little weaver was just a fearful
wee man, and had knocked over the elephant like a ninepin. Then the King said
to himself, 'None of my warriors and wrestlers, no, not even the heroes of old,
could have done this. I must secure this little man's services if I can.' So he
asked Vicky why he was wandering about the world.
'For
pleasure, for service, or for conquest! ' returned Valiant Vicky, laying such
stress on the last word that the King, in a great hurry, made him
Commander-in-Chief of his whole army, for fear he should take service
elsewhere.
So
there was Valiant Vicky a mighty fine warrior, and as proud as a peacock of
having fulfilled his own predictions.
'I
knew it!' he would say to himself when he was dressed out in full fig, with
shining armour and waving plumes, and spears, swords, and shields; 'I felt
I had it in me!'
Now
after some time a terribly savage tiger came ravaging the country, and at last
the city-folk petitioned that the mighty Prince Victor might be sent out to
destroy it. So out he went at the head of his army,–for he was a great man now,
and had quite forgotten all about looms and shuttles. But first he made the
King promise his daughter in marriage as a reward. 'Nothing for nothing!' said
the astute little weaver to himself, and when the promise was given he went out
as gay as a lark.
'Do
not distress yourselves, good people,' he said to those who flocked round him
praying for his successful return; 'it is ridiculous to suppose the tiger will
have a chance. Why, I knocked over an elephant with my little finger! I am
really invincible!'
But,
alas for our Valiant Vicky! No sooner did he see the tiger lashing its tail and
charging down on him, than he ran for the nearest tree, and scrambled into the
branches. There he sat like a monkey, while the tiger glowered at him from below.
Of course when the army saw their Commander-in-Chief bolt like a mouse, they
followed his example, and never stopped until they reached the city, where they
spread the news that the little hero had fled up a tree.
'There
let him stay!' said the King, secretly relieved, for he was jealous of the
little weaver's prowess, and did not want him for a son-in-law.
Meanwhile,
Valiant Vicky sat cowering in the tree, while the tiger occupied itself below
with sharpening its teeth and claws, and curling its whiskers, till poor Vicky
nearly tumbled into its jaws with fright. So one day, two days, three days, six
days passed by; on the seventh the tiger was fiercer, hungrier, and more
watchful than ever. As for the poor little weaver, he was so hungry that his
hunger made him brave, and he determined to try and slip past his enemy during
its mid-day snooze. He crept stealthily down inch by inch, till his foot was
within a yard of the ground, and then? Why then the tiger, which had had one
eye open all the time, jumped up with a roar!
Valiant
Vicky shrieked with fear, and making a tremendous effort, swung himself into a
branch, cocking his little bandy legs over it to keep them out of reach, for
the tiger's red panting mouth and gleaming white teeth were within half an inch
of his toes. In doing so, his dagger fell out of its sheath, and went pop into
the tiger's wide-open mouth, and thus point foremost down into its stomach, so
that it died!
Valiant
Vicky could scarcely believe his good fortune, but, after prodding at the body
with a branch, and finding it did not move, he concluded the tiger really was
dead, and ventured down. Then he cut off its head, and went home in triumph to
the King.
'You
and your warriors are a nice set of cowards!' said he, wrathfully. 'Here have I
been fighting that tiger for seven days and seven nights, without bite or sup,
whilst you have been guzzling and snoozing at home. Pah! it's disgusting! but I
suppose every one is not a hero as I am!' So Prince Victor married the King's
daughter, and was a greater man than ever.
But
by and by a neighbouring prince, who bore a grudge against the King, came with
a huge army, and encamped outside the city, swearing to put every man, woman,
and child within it to the sword. Hearing this, the inhabitants of course cried
with one accord, 'Prince Victor! Prince Victor to the rescue!' so the valiant
little weaver was ordered by the King to go out and destroy the invading army,
after which he was to receive half the kingdom as a reward. Now Valiant Vicky, with
all his boasting, was no fool, and he said to himself, 'This is a very
different affair from the others. A man may kill a mosquito, an elephant, and a
tiger; yet another man may kill him. And here is not one man, but
thousands! No, No!–what is the use of half a kingdom if you haven't a head on
your shoulders? Under the circumstances I prefer not to be a hero!'
So
in the dead of night he bade his wife rise, pack up her golden dishes, and
follow him–'Not that you will want the golden dishes at my house,' he explained
boastfully, 'for I have heaps and heaps, but on the journey these will be
useful.' Then he crept outside the city, followed by his wife carrying the
bundle, and began to steal through the enemy's camp.
Just
as they were in the very middle of it, a big cockchafer flew into Valiant
Vicky's face. 'Run! run!' he shrieked to his wife, in a terrible taking, and
setting off as fast as he could, never stopped till he had reached his room
again and hidden under the bed. His wife set off at a run likewise, dropping
her bundle of golden dishes with a clang. The noise roused the enemy, who,
thinking they were attacked, flew to arms; but being half asleep, and the night
being pitch-dark, they could not distinguish friend from foe, and falling on
each other, fought with such fury that by next morning not one was left alive!
And then, as may be imagined, great were the rejoicings at Prince Victor's
prowess. 'It was a mere trifle!' remarked that valiant little gentleman
modestly; 'when a man can shoot a mosquito with a shuttle, everything else is
child's play.'
So
he received half the kingdom, and ruled it with great dignity, refusing ever
afterwards to fight, saying truly that kings never fought themselves, but paid
others to fight for them.
Thus
he lived in peace, and when he died every one said Valiant Vicky was the
greatest hero the world had ever seen.