by Terry Jones
The old woman kept on threading the bones on the string as if they were beads, and said: ‘There are two ways to cross the river. One is free, and one will cost you.’
‘How can that be?’ asked the two friends.
‘Well,’ said the old woman, ‘one way is to swim across. That’s free. The other way is to take the boat that leaves from here at midnight, but that will cost you, for once you step on board you must give the boatman whatever he asks for.’
‘I don’t want to get wet,’ said the first friend, whose name was Jonathan. ‘I’ll take the boat.’
‘Who knows what the boatman might ask for!’ said David. ‘I’ll swim.’
So the two friends agreed to meet the next day on the other side. Then David tied all his belongings in his shirt, and put them on his head, and swam across. It was a wide river, and the current took him a long way downstream, but eventually he got to the other side. There he lit a fire and waited until his friend Jonathan arrived.
‘Well?’ asked David. ‘What did the boatman ask for?’
‘Oh … he wanted the moon,’ said Jonathan.
‘So what did you give him?’ asked David.
‘Oh … I just got out my cup and dipped it in the river and handed it to him so that, when he looked into it, there was the moon, shining up at him.’
Well, the two friends went on their way, and on the second day they came to a deep chasm. There they found a little old man, sitting outside a cave.
‘How do we get across this chasm?’ they asked.
‘There are two ways,’ said the little old man. ‘One way will take a minute, the other way will take a month.’
‘How can that be?’ they asked.
‘Well, one way is to walk all round the edge of the chasm, and that will take you a month,’ said the little old man. ‘The other way is to ask the eagle that lives on this mountain to give you a ride on his back. But if he does, you must answer any question he asks you as you fly over, otherwise he will drop you into the chasm.’
‘I’m not going to risk that!’ said David. ‘I’ll walk round the edge, even if it takes a month.’
‘I can answer any question,’ said Jonathan. ‘I’ll fly on the eagle’s back.’
So the two friends agreed to meet in a month’s time. David walked and walked for a whole month, and eventually he reached the spot on the other side of the chasm where they had agreed to meet, and there – sure enough – was his friend Jonathan waiting for him.
‘What was the eagle’s question?’ asked David.
‘Oh … he wanted to know where he could always find the summer sun in midwinter,’ replied Jonathan.
‘What did you tell him?’ asked David.
‘Oh … I told him to find one blade of grass, for you must know that all plants store the summer sun in their leaves.’
So the two friends went on their way until they came to the shore of a sea. There they found an old sailor, so they asked him how they could cross the sea.
‘There are two ways,’ said the old sailor. ‘One way is dangerous, the other way is safe.’
‘How can that be?’ they asked.
‘One way is to sail across on a boat. That will be full of danger, for the sea is deep and there are storms and high waves and sea-monsters. The other way is to go to the wizard of the sea, and ask him to get you across by his magic. That is quite safe, but with this warning: you will have to do whatever the wizard of the sea wants first, or else you will never get across at all.’
‘I will sail across,’ said David, ‘for I would rather face the dangers of the sea than put myself in the wizard’s hands.’
‘I can do whatever the wizard asks me to,’ said Jonathan. ‘I’ll go by magic’
So Jonathan went to the wizard and swore to do whatever the wizard asked of him.
‘There’s only one thing you need do for me,’ said the wizard, ‘and that’s not so difficult for someone who can give the moon away and who knows where to find the summer sun in midwinter.’
‘What is it I must do?’ asked Jonathan.
‘You must catch the wind,’ said the wizard. And just then a breeze blew across the shore, and Jonathan set off after it.
Meanwhile David had built himself a boat. He spread his sail, and the wind blew him across the ocean. Sometimes the wind blew up a storm, and sometimes it blew him the wrong way, and he fought with the rain and the cold and the sea-monsters, but at length he got to the other side. There he built a windmill, and the wind turned the sails of the mill, and he became a miller. He never grew rich, but he was never poor, and – for all I know – he was happy enough.
Jonathan, however, never was able to catch the wind, and to this day he chases after it, and in between the blasts of a storm you may hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps. He cannot stop and he cannot catch it, for he is now a wind ghost. And yet – for all I know – he too is happy enough in his way.
THE BIG NOSES
THERE WAS ONCE AN ISLAND in the middle of the ocean, where everybody’s nose was far too big. The chief of the island got in a boat, and sailed to the place where the wisest of all men lived.
‘Now, what is the problem?’ asked the wisest of all men.
‘Well,’ said the chief of the island, ‘all my people are unhappy because their noses are too big. We can’t get our sweaters over our heads because our noses are so big. We can’t enjoy a drink without hitting our noses on the other side of the cup. We can’t kiss each other, because our noses get in the way. But worst of all, we don’t even like each other, because of our ugly great noses. Can you help us by making our noses smaller?’
‘Well,’ said the wisest of all men, ‘I cannot make your noses smaller. Only the magician who lives by the burning lake could do that – and even he could not do it for all your people. But come back in three days’ time, and perhaps I shall be able to help you.’
So the chief of the island stayed in that land for two days and two nights. And while he was there, he went to the magician who lived by the burning lake and the magician cast a spell over his nose and made it very small indeed. And on the third day, the chief went back to the wisest of all men, and said: ‘Well, have you thought of an answer?’
The wisest of all men looked at the island chief in amazement. Finally he said: ‘Is that really you?’
And the chief said: ‘Yes, of course it is.’
And the wisest of all men said: ‘But what has happened to your nose?’ So the chief of the island told him how he had been to the magician. And the wisest of all men shook his grey head, and said: ‘You seek one solution for yourself and another for your people, and that’s not good.’
‘Well, it’s too late now,’ replied the chief, ‘so what is your solution for my people?’
‘First,’ said the wisest of all men, ‘you must go to the volcano that lies on the other side of this land, and take the ashes from its mouth, and rub them into your hair and hands and all over your body. Then put on these robes, and return to your people and tell them that you are Chan Tanda.’
The chief looked amazed, and said: ‘But you are Chan Tanda, the wisest of all men. Why should I pretend to be you?’
‘You must,’ said Chan Tanda, ‘and, believe me, you will thank me for it.’
So the chief took the clothes and Chan Tanda told him what he was to say to his people, and then he went to the volcano, and climbed to the very top, where the smoke and flames came billowing out of the ground. And he rubbed the ashes into his hair and hands and all over his body until he was a dusty grey colour, just like Chan Tanda himself. And he put on the clothes and sailed back to his people.
When he arrived, they all said: ‘Where is our chief?’
And he replied, as he had been instructed: ‘Your chief says he will not come back to this island until his people have become more reasonable.’
‘What does he mean?’ they all cried. ‘We may have big noses, but we’re not fools! Tell him to come back!’
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�He says he won’t come back until you’ve changed some of your foolish ways,’ said the chief of the island.
‘What foolish ways?’ they said. ‘What does he mean?’
‘For a start, he says you must stop sitting out in the rain playing ludo.’
‘But we like sitting out in the rain playing ludo!’ they cried.
‘Secondly, you must stop using egg-cups for your tea.’
‘But we like drinking tea out of egg-cups!’ they cried.
‘And thirdly, you must bend your heads to one side when you kiss.’
‘But we’ve always kept them upright!’ they cried.
‘Otherwise your chief will never return,’ said the chief of the island.
Well, they held a meeting, and decided to do what was asked so that their leader would return. And before long they discovered that when they didn’t sit out in the rain playing ludo, their sweaters didn’t shrink, and they were able to put them on over their heads without their noses getting in the way. And when they gave up drinking tea out of egg-cups, they found that their noses no longer hit the other side. And when they bent their heads to one side, they could kiss just fine. Before long, they even started to like each other, and soon they were all living happily enough, and realized that there never had been anything wrong with their noses in the first place.
But the chief of the island had to return to the wisest of all men, and get him to persuade the magician who lived by the burning lake to change his nose back to its proper size again, before he dared to go home to his own people.
A FISH OF THE WORLD
A HERRING ONCE DECIDED TO SWIM right round the world. ‘I’m tired of the North Sea,’ he said. ‘I want to find out what else there is in the world.’
So he swam off south into the deep Atlantic. He swam and he swam far far away from the seas he knew, through the warm waters of the equator and on down into the South Atlantic. And all the time he saw many strange and wonderful fish that he had never seen before. Once he was nearly eaten by a shark, and once he was nearly electrocuted by an electric eel, and once he was nearly stung by a sting-ray. But he swam on and on, round the tip of Africa and into the Indian Ocean. And he passed by devilfish and sailfish and sawfish and swordfish and bluefish and blackfish and mudfish and sunfish, and he was amazed by the different shapes and sizes and colours.
On he swam, into the Java Sea, and he saw fish that leapt out of the water and fish that lived on the bottom of the sea and fish that could walk on their fins. And on he swam, through the Coral Sea, where the shells of millions and millions of tiny creatures had turned to rock and stood as big as mountains. But still he swam on, into the wide Pacific. He swam over the deepest parts of the ocean, where the water is so deep that it is inky black at the bottom, and the fish carry lanterns over their heads, and some have lights on their tails. And through the Pacific he swam, and then he turned north and headed up to the cold Siberian Sea, where huge white icebergs sailed past him like mighty ships. And still he swam on and on and into the frozen Arctic Ocean, where the sea is forever covered in ice. And on he went, past Greenland and Iceland, and finally he swam home into his own North Sea.
All his friends and relations gathered round and made a great fuss of him. They had a big feast and offered him the very best food they could find. But the herring just yawned and said: ‘I’ve swum round the entire world. I have seen everything there is to see, and I have eaten more exotic and wonderful dishes than you could possibly imagine.’ And he refused to eat anything.
Then his friends and relations begged him to come home and live with them, but he refused. ‘I’ve been everywhere there is, and that old rock is too dull and small for me.’ And he went off and lived on his own.
And when the breeding season came, he refused to join in the spawning, saying: ‘I’ve swum around the entire world, and now I know how many fish there are in the world, I can’t be interested in herrings any more.’
Eventually, one of the oldest of the herrings swam up to him, and said: ‘Listen. If you don’t spawn with us, some herrings’ eggs will go unfertilized and will not turn into healthy young herring. If you don’t live with your family, you’ll make them sad. And if you don’t eat, you’ll die.’
But the herring said: ‘I don’t mind. I’ve been everywhere there is to go, I’ve seen everything there is to see, and now I know everything there is to know.’
The old fish shook his head. ‘No-one has ever seen everything there is to see,’ he said, ‘nor known everything there is to know.’
‘Look,’ said the herring, ‘I’ve swum through the North Sea, the Atlantic Ocean, the Indian Ocean, the Java Sea, the Coral Sea, the great Pacific Ocean, the Siberian Sea and the frozen Arctic. Tell me, what else is there for me to see or know?’
‘I don’t know,’ said the old herring, ‘but there may be something.’
Well, just then, a fishing-boat came by, and all the herrings were caught in a net and taken to market that very day. And a man bought the herring, and ate it for his supper.
And he never knew that it had swum right round the world, and had seen everything there was to see, and knew everything there was to know.
TIM O’LEARY
HUNDREDS OF YEARS AGO a goblin sat on the bank of a river, dipping his toes in the water. Towards the end of the day, a farmer came walking home from his fields. When he saw the little goblin he rubbed his eyes and looked again.
‘What sort of thing are you?’ he asked.
‘I’m Tim O’Leary,’ said the goblin.
‘How can that be?’ said the farmer. ‘Tim O’Leary’s my best friend, and he don’t look a bit like you.’
‘Ah!’ sighed the goblin. ‘I found a cave that was full of witch’s treasure, and I would have carried it all off, but I cut my feet on some magic rocks, and turned into a goblin as you can see.’
‘But what are you doing with your feet in the river?’ asked the farmer.
‘I’m trying to wash the magic off my feet,’ replied the goblin, ‘but it’s no good.’
‘Oh deary me, Tim,’ said the farmer, ‘whatever can we do?’
‘The only way to turn me back into Tim O’Leary is to steal the witch’s treasure and throw every single bit of it into the deepest ocean.’
‘I’ll do that!’ cried the farmer.
‘But mind you don’t cut your feet on the magic rocks!’ said the goblin.
‘I won’t,’ said the farmer, ‘I have on my toughest boots.’ And he set off to find the cave.
It was almost night when he found it, so he lit a torch and ventured in. First he came to a long tunnel, where the floor and the walls and the ceiling were all of sharp rocks. So he walked very slowly and very carefully along the tunnel, and he managed to get to the other end of it without cutting himself.
There he found three great doors. One was made of wood. One was made of iron. And one was made of stone. Just as he was wondering which one to try, he heard a croak behind him. He turned round and found a frog sitting on a rock.
‘You want to know what lies behind the doors?’ asked the frog.
‘Yes,’ said the farmer.
‘Very well, I’ll tell you, if you promise to give me a jewel from the witch’s treasure.‘
‘I can’t do that,’ replied the farmer, ‘I have to throw every single bit of the witch’s treasure into the ocean, so that the goblin can turn back into Tim O’Leary.’
‘Huh!’ said the frog. ‘Don’t believe that goblin. He’s no more Tim O’Leary than I am. He just wants to get his hands on the witch’s treasure.’
‘Well, why doesn’t he come and get it himself?’ asked the farmer.
‘He’s a water-goblin,’ said the frog. ‘Very powerful, you know, but he must keep touching water. That’s why he sits with his toes in the river.’
Well, the farmer didn’t know who to believe, but he said to himself: ‘I set out to save Tim O’Leary, and that’s what I’ll do.’
‘Come,’ said the frog, ‘you
can give me a jewel from the witch’s treasure and then keep the rest for yourself.’
‘No,’ replied the farmer, ‘I must save Tim O’Leary.’
‘You fool!’ screamed the frog, shaking with anger. Then he grew larger and larger, and turned brown and then black and suddenly there was a little old elf.
‘You fool!’ he screamed. ‘You’ll never get the witch’s treasure now! It lies behind one of the doors, but behind another lies a monster that will tear you to pieces, and behind the third lies a hole that will suck you in. Now you won’t know which is which and I shan’t tell you!’ And he disappeared in a puff of smoke that smelt curiously of nettle beer.
Well, the farmer was very frightened, but he was determined to help Tim O’Leary. So he covered himself from head to foot in mud and got a long pole that stretched the length of the three great doors. Then he opened the first door that was made of wood. Immediately there was a whooshing noise and he saw a terrible black hole, and he felt himself being sucked towards it. And suddenly stones and rocks from the cave were flying past him, and all disappearing into that terrible black hole. But the farmer clung tight to his pole, and because it was wider than the doorway it couldn’t go through. So the farmer struggled and strained and eventually he managed to shut the door with a great bang, and the sucking wind died down and the cave grew still again.
‘Phew!’ said the farmer. ‘Now which of the next two doors has the treasure, and which has the monster that will tear me to pieces?’
Finally he decided to try the iron door. He opened it very, very cautiously, expecting a terrible monster to leap out at him at any moment. But all was quiet. He looked in and found himself gazing into a high hall, lit by candles, and in the centre of the hall was a great iron chest, with a golden lock.
The farmer looked around the hall and there on the wall hung a great golden key. So he took the key and eagerly opened up the treasure chest. Whereupon there was a terrible roar and out jumped a hideous monster with great claws and bulging eyes. And it stretched out its claws to seize the farmer, but, because he was all covered in mud, he slipped through them, and ran as hard as he could for the door. He got there in the nick of time and slammed it shut just as the monster sprang again, so that it crashed against the great door and the iron rang and the monster roared.
