The Flight of the Golden Bird

by Duncan Williamson

  The king said, “Catch that man! Bring that man back here. I want to find out who he is!” Nobody could find out who he was. He’s gone.

  So anyway, home Jack comes. Into the forest, ties up his horse, puts on his rags. Back he goes, lies down at the fire. The two brothers come back again. And then they start telling their mother what happened.

  “Mother, you want to see this!” they said. “This was the last day. It’s finished. The three golden apples are gone with three knights. And one of them rode right to the top of the hill and kissed the princess! Jumped off and kissed her, got a golden apple and disappeared in the distance. The king’s going raving mad! He’s sending soldiers all over every house and every farm and every hamlet in the district. There’s going to be a search in the kingdom till he gets these three knights and the three horses. The king wants them immediately. Princess is breaking her heart for this knight with the golden armour!”

  Now Jack by this time is lying beside the fire no saying a word. Then he says, “I think myself I’ll go into the town tomorrow.”

  Brothers said, “Where are you going?”

  He said, “I’m going to the king’s palace the morn.”

  “Look,” said the brothers, “if you go to the king’s palace you’ll get us all shot! You’ll get us murdered. We’ll be hung! With the filth and dirt that’s on you if you’re gaun to the king’s palace, you’ll get us hung.”

  “Ah, but I’m going!” he says.

  “What are you going there for?” they say. “You cannae go there; it’s impossible!”

  He says, “I’m going to the palace tomorrow.”

  His mother said, “Son, please don’t go to the palace! You’ll get your brothers hung and me forbyes, if the folk find out. And you go in that state of rags up to the king... what’ll happen? Look at the state you’re in! You’re fit to talk to naebody; you cannae go naewhere!”

  He says, “I’m going tomorrow. Nobody’s going to stop me! I’m going to see the king.”

  By this time the king had sent up soldiers all through the country searching here and far and wide, everywhere they could get. No. Nobody could find the three knights. Nobody. Not a soul. The princess was asking everybody, “Find the knight with the golden armour for me. Bring him back at once!” The king offered a large reward for anybody that would find even names, who the knights were. No, nobody could find out.

  But Jack, he wanders away into the wood, gets his three golden apples and puts them in his pocket. In his old ragged jacket, you know, shoves them down, well down into his pocket! Says cheerio to his mother.

  “Look,” his mother said, “woe be to ye! Ye’ll bring us trouble. Ye’ll definitely bring us trouble. And your brothers forbyes. The king’ll turn us out and take wir lands fae us. God knows what’ll happen to us if you go! Please don’t go near the king’s palace!”

  He says, “I’m going to the king’s palace, Mother! There’s nothing you or your other two sons can do about it.”

  Away he goes dressed in his rags, the three golden apples in his pocket. He walks on and on and on. First thing he meets is a group of soldiers.

  Soldiers said, “Halt, tramp! Where are you going?”

  He said, “I’m going to the king’s palace.”

  “You can’t go to the king’s palace!” they said.

  “I’m going,” he said. “There nothing states that I can’t go although I be a tramp. I can still go to the palace.”

  “Be it on your head!” said the guard. “It’s yourself to blame if anything happens to you.”

  On he goes. Walks through the village right up this great big lovely avenue, up to the king’s castle. Another guard.

  “Stop! Where are you going, tramp?” he said.

  He said, “I’m going to see the king.”

  “You go and see the king?” he said. “The king cannae see you!”

  “Why not?” Jack said. “I’m one of his people. I’m a human being like anybody else.”

  “But,” he says, “you’re a tramp. You’re in rags. You’re in filth.”

  “It makes no difference,” he said. “I’ve got to see the king.”

  He said, “Why? Have you news for the king?”

  “Yes,” Jack said, “I’ve news for the king and news for the princess.”

  So the guard goes in and tells the king, “There’s a tramp at the door who’s got news for you.”

  “Oh,” he says, “bring him in; bring him right in!”

  He takes him in. There’s the king sitting on his throne. There’s the queen sitting and the princess sitting. And Jack walks up all in rags. His hair all tangled. King took one look at him.

  “Well, tramp,” he says, “what news have you brought? Did you see any knights in shining armour in the district round about? My soldiers and couriers have failed. Maybe you’ve come from the forests. Have you seen any knights in shining armour?”

  “No,” he says, “Your Majesty, I have not.”

  “Well, what are you doing here, man, if you’ve no news for me?” said the king.

  “I’ve no news for you,” he says, “no news at all. But I’ve brought a present for the princess.”

  “What kind of present?” says the king.

  “Well,” Jack said, “if Your Majesty will permit me, may I give my present to the princess?”

  King thought a little minute. “Well,” he says, “you may. Seeing you’ve come all this distance, you give the princess your present!”

  Jack puts his hand in his pocket and takes out three golden apples. “That is my present for the princess,” he said. And he walks over and puts the three golden apples in the princess’s lap.

  Princess jumps up. She says, “Where did you get these? Where did you get them? Did you steal them from some knight?”

  “No, my princess,” he said, “I never stole them from a knight. But I got them from your own hand when I came up the glass hill. I am the three knights.”

  “You’re the three knights?” she said.

  “Yes,” he said, “I’m the three knights.” So he stood and told her the story.

  And the king was delighted. Delighted! “Take that man upstairs and get him into a bath – get him washed and cleaned!” said the king.

  Right, up they go. And when they scrubbed him, cleaned and bathed him and gave him a new suit of clothes, you want to see him! He was just the nicest looking man you ever saw! And the princess fell in love with him right away. They held a great big wedding. And he got married to the princess. The king was fond of him and so was the queen.

  But now the brothers were sitting at home. And the poor old mother was sitting wondering what happened to Jack. He had been away for a fortnight. Never came back. The wedding lasted for a week.

  But one day the mother says to her two sons, “I tellt you that silly laddie o’ mine, what happened to him. He must hae got into some kind of trouble, because he never came back. You might go and see if you can see him.”

  “No me! I’m no going to the king’s palace,” says Willie or Tom. “We’re no going to look for him. If he never comes back, we’re no going to search for him. He can come back the same way he went! He never was nae help. He was nae good to us anyway. The lazy soul. He was wir brother right enough but he never helped us. He did nothing!”

  But she says, “He’s my youngest son and I want him back here.”

  “Well, Mother,” they said, “if you want him back here you’ll have to go and look for him yourself! Because we’re no going.”

  They were busy arguing and discussing it when they looked up the road and here they see this carriage coming. Fifteen soldiers on the front and in a carriage coming up the drive. The old woman looks.

  “That’s the royal carriage coming up here,” she said. “I told youse! I told youse what would happen. That’s that brother o’ yers got us into trouble! That’s the king’s carriage and his soldiers coming to evict us. God knows what they’ll do to us! They’ll maybe hang us ower the heid o’
that silly brother o’ yours. You should hae took better care o’ him!”

  Up come the soldiers. Drive up to the front o’ the old wifie’s house. The two brothers are standing. The carriage door opens and out steps this young gentleman and his young princess on his arm. The old lady goes down on her knees. So do the two brothers, go down on their knees when they see the young princess.

  “Her Highness,” says the mother, “why have you come to us? We have done you no trouble. I beg you, Princess, please, don’t kill my son! I know what you’re here for; that silly son of mine, causing trouble. I’m sorry. Please let him go!”

  So young Jack walks over, he says to his mother, “Rise up, Mummy! It’s me; I’m your son Jack. Me and my princess have come to pay you a visit. And I’m taking you back to the castle with me to stay the rest of your days.”

  So he sent the soldiers to the wood for his three horses and his armour and brought them back to the castle. He brought his own mother back home with him. And the two brothers stayed in the wee woodcutter’s hut. The old mother stayed with Jack and they lived happy ever after.

  And that’s the last o’ the story.

  Well, when I was a wee wean like youse I used to sit round the fire and listen to my daddy telling his stories. And I paid attention, never said a word and listened! Listened to every word. So’s when I got old I could tell the story to my wee granddaughter, as you’ve just heard it from me. Now you come back down tomorrow night and I’ll tell you another story.

  The Steed and the Bell

  Many, many hundreds of years ago, long, long before your day and mine… in villages on the West Coast, all the arguments and disputes were settled by the headman when he called everybody together beside him. The houses in a village were not built as close together as they are today. Every little house was separate, by its own. So, for calling the people together, they built in the centre of the village a steeple. On the steeple they placed a bell. And when the headman of the village wanted to hold a court, to hold a meeting, he would go out and ring the bell. Whether somebody had stolen something or done ill-will on someone, when the bell was pulled everybody knew that somebody had done a wrong. And the people gathered together outside beside the bell to see that justice would be done.

  But about two or three miles away from the village there was a castle. In this castle lived a great knight. He had fought in every battle for the king and won many. He had travelled to the Holy Lands and all over. Years passed by and this knight had got kind of old. And he had this famous steed that had carried him through all his battles. When he’d thought himself too old to fight any more, the knight had settled down to live the rest of his life out in his castle – he and his old steed.

  But years passed by and things did change with time. Law and order began to get established a wee bit more in the village; the bell was gradually forgotten about. No more was it used – just as no more did the old knight ride on his steed. The knight had turned his old steed out into the wilderness round his castle to fend for himself. The old steed wandered here and there, and the knight had practically forgotten about him, as the people had the bell. The trees and vines began to gather round the steeple. The bell rope got covered in ivy.

  Now the old steed wandered round and wandered round, trying his best to pick as much as he could eat here and there. And it came a hard, hard winter. In his search for food the old horse wandered into the village, but could not find anything. So, naturally, when he came into the centre of the village he came to the old steeple.

  The old bell rope was covered in ivy. But there still remained in the village some people who remembered the old bell and who remembered the old knight. The old folk in the village remembered, but the young people had forgotten.

  So, they were all sitting down one evening at their meal when the bell started to ring: ding-dong, ding-dong rang the bell through the village.

  All the people sat up and they said, “The bell is ringing – someone has done a wrong! It’s been years since the bell was rung, so naturally we will have to go and see what has happened.”

  So, all the old folk that could remember years past were so excited to hear the bell ringing once more after all these years, everyone rushed out. And when the old folk rushed out, the young ones, who had only heard about the bell, followed them. All gathered, maybe two or three hundred of them, gathered round the bell. And they looked.

  What they saw at the bell was an old horse, and his bones were sticking through his skin. He was so thin that he could hardly walk. And he was pulling the wee bits of ivy off the rope, eating the bits of ivy. And every time he picked a bit ivy, the bell started to ring. When the people gathered round and saw this old horse, how thin he was, they felt so sad for him.

  They said, “Who owns a horse, an animal, and keeps it in such a state as this?”

  And it was an old man with a scarf and a long beard who said, “I know that animal.”

  And somebody said, “Where does it come from? It must be as old as yerself.”

  He said, “It nearly is as old as myself! That horse belongs to the old knight up in the castle. He has deserted it; he has neglected it. It’s starving! And that’s why it rang the bell – to tell us – so we will have to do something about it.”

  So they all walked together. Every single one of them walked up to the old knight’s castle. They rang the doorbell and the old knight came out.

  He said, “What is this? Why have all you people come up here to disturb my peace?”

  And they said, “Did you hear the bell ringing in the village?”

  “Yes,” said the old knight, “I heard the bell ringing. And it’s years and years and years since I heard it ringing. I thought that it was done away with, finished long ago, that we never had any more need for the bell. Wrongs that were done were punished in some other manner.”

  And they said, “No, you have committed a crime and you have to be punished!”

  The old knight said, “I’ve committed no crime.”

  And they said, “Yes!” Somebody led up the old horse right to the knight and they said, “Is this your horse?”

  He said, “Yes, it is my horse.”

  “Then why is it you leave it in such a state as that – it’s starving – its bones are sticking through the skin!”

  And the old headman of the village said, “This horse rang the bell to tell us that you had committed a crime and turned him adrift to fend for himself. So, ye either take him and take care of him or ye have to be punished.”

  The old knight said, “I never gave him a thought.” He said, “I know he has carried me through many a battle… I never gave him a thought. I thought he was just fending for himself.”

  And every one of the villagers said, “He came and rang the bell and told us you had neglected him.”

  So the old knight said, “Well, he will never be neglected no more.” The old knight took him in, led him, put him into his old stable. He said, “I’ll see that he never wants for nothing for the rest of his days.”

  And neither the steed did. The knight kept his promise.

  And that’s the end of my story.

  Cripple John

  I would like to tell you a wonderful tale that has been told among the Travelling People of Scotland for many, many years. It is a very religious tale.

  Many years ago in the West Highlands there lived a farmer and his wife. They had a large farm on a hill and they were very well off, had everything they desired. But most of all they loved their son John, who had been born to them crippled. He had a short leg and a long one. Sometimes John’s father felt sorry for him and sometimes his mother did, but they never let it show. They loved him dearly. And John loved his parents dearly. Then, lo and behold, the father died! John’s heart was broken. They came with a horse and cart and took him away. John watched his father disappearing over the hillside, a coffin in the cart. He was so upset.

  Out to the mountains he crawled among the rocks. And he cried and cried a
nd cried till he couldn’t cry any longer. His mother too was upset. But she came and found John in the rocks in the hills beside the farm.

  She put her arm around him and said, “John, you know you are a big man now and you mustn’t cry. Your father’s gone from this place… he’s gone to a better place. He’s gone where someone who is different from us all will love and respect him just like you and I do.” So, she finally consoled him and brought him home. But John was very sad. She said, “Come on, young man, it’s up to you now! You must take care of the place.”

  They lived well out in the mountains. The nearest village was four miles away. John used to go there. Sometimes he took his pony and trap and sometimes he walked – to prove that he could do it.

  And when he landed in the village all the children came up and cried, “Cripple John, Cripple John!” But poor John never worried about this. With his short leg and his long leg he went to school. He grew up to be a young man. Years have a way of passing and John was now fourteen years of age.

  He said to his mother, “I have finally finished the school.”

  “Yes, son,” she said, “you have.” His daddy had been dead now for over five years. She said, “It’s all your place, John, all your home. And some day you won’t even have me to take care of you. I’ll go and join your father some day and this farm is going to be yours.” They had plenty of money and were not poor in any way.

  “Yes, Mother,” he said, “I know.”

  So, John worked hard around the farm even though he was a cripple. But this one particular time it was coming near Christmas. And they always celebrated Christmas in the farmhouse. He had done it with his daddy since he was a child. And even if his daddy had gone and passed on, he’d celebrated it for his mother. But John had been so busy working taking care of the sheep and the cattle and doing other things, he’d forgotten, and he’d never bought his mother a present.