by Lari Don
Baba Yaga had iron teeth, sharp and glittering and strong.
Baba Yaga lived in a hut built on a pair of hen’s legs, always bending and shifting and scratching the ground.
Baba Yaga travelled in a mortar and pestle, sitting in the giant bowl and using the long pestle to bounce herself along the ground.
And Baba Yaga ate children for supper.
So the little girl was afraid of her stepmother, because she thought that her stepmother would try to feed her to Baba Yaga.
The little girl was right.
One day, the stepmother said, “I want to do some sewing. Fetch me some pins from my sister in the forest.”
The little girl broke the back off the brooch which held her red shawl together and gave the metal spike to her stepmother. “You can use this as a pin, so I don’t need to go into the forest.”
The stepmother sniffed. “I still need thread. Fetch me some thread from my sister in the forest.”
The little girl found a loose thread on the fringe of her shawl, pulled it out carefully and gave the red thread to her stepmother. “You can sew with this, so I don’t need to go into the forest.”
The stepmother sniffed, then smiled. She bent the pin and dropped the thread on the fire. “Now do as I say. Fetch me pins and thread from my sister in the forest.”
The little girl sighed. She couldn’t keep finding ways to avoid Baba Yaga, she had to go and face her. So the little girl tidied her hair out of her eyes with her polished wooden comb, and put a slice of sausage and a slice of bread in a blue napkin, then walked into the forest.
She walked along the grey gritty path, comb in her hair and picnic in her hand, until she stubbed her toe on a smooth white pebble. She looked at the pebble on the grey path, then looked around. There were no other white pebbles and no white rocks nearby. She smiled. “You look out of place in this forest, just like me.” She put the pebble in her pocket.
She kept walking through the forest, comb in her hair, picnic on her arm, pebble in her pocket.
After a long hungry walk, the little girl saw a wooden hut on two scaly orange legs, scritching and scratching in the dirt. She had reached Baba Yaga’s house.
The little girl clambered up and tried to get in the door. But a dog barked and growled at her. She could see the sharpness of the dog’s ribs though its mangy hair, so she gave the dog the slice of bread. The dog let her past and into the house.
Then a cat leapt at her, hissing and spitting. She could see the knobbles of the cat’s spine through its flea-bitten fur, so she gave the slice of sausage to the cat. The cat purred and left her alone.
Then a young woman in ragged clothes, shivering and blowing her nose, stepped out of the shadows. “Why have you come to my mother’s house? We don’t often get willing visitors.” The young woman sneezed and coughed. The little girl pulled off her warm red shawl and wrapped it round the young woman’s shoulders.
Then a loud voice boomed from the weaving loom in the corner. “Get out of the way, daughter, so I can see what my sister has sent me!”
Baba Yaga stamped towards the little girl, her wide smile showing all her polished iron teeth.
The little girl said, “I’ve come to fetch pins and thread, please.”
“My dear child, I have plenty of pins and thread, there on the shelf by the loom. And you may have them before you go. But first…” Baba Yaga leaned over the little girl, prodding her and sniffing her. “But first, after your long journey, let’s give you a nice hot bath.
“Daughter, fill that pot by the fire. Girl, sit on my stool and weave, so I’ll hear the shuttle and know you’re still here. Cat, watch the girl. Dog, guard the door. I’ll fetch some herbs and spices for the water, to make you taste… er… smell nice.”
Baba Yaga stepped into the pantry to look for herbs and spices.
The little girl started to weave. Click clack, click clack.
The daughter, in her red shawl, started to fill the pot. But she was using a sieve to carry the water.
The cat watched the shuttle, washing the grease off her whiskers.
The dog sat in the doorway, crumbs on his nose.
And Baba Yaga yelled from inside the pantry, “Are you still there, girl?”
“Yes.” The little girl kept weaving. Click clack, click clack.
Baba Yaga yelled, “Is the bath full yet, daughter?” The daughter said, “Not yet,” as she carried another dripping sieve over.
Then the cat jumped up on the stool, put her paw on the shuttle and began pushing it. The little girl stood up and grabbed pins and thread from the shelf, then she smiled at the daughter and stepped over the dog, who wagged his tail.
The little girl started to run home.
Baba Yaga heard the shuttle click clack, click clack and she didn’t hear the dog bark, so she stayed in the pantry searching for herbs and spices.
The little girl ran and ran as fast as she could, through the forest towards her home.
Then Baba Yaga found the dill, horseradish and caraway seeds, so she stepped back into the room.
She saw the cat sitting on the stool making a terrible tangle with the wool, the dog wagging his tail at the empty doorway and her daughter carrying a wet sieve to the pot.
Baba Yaga screamed, “How dare you all betray me? Why would you betray your own Baba Yaga?”
The cat said, “All the time I’ve lived here, you’ve fed me nothing but dead mice. That little girl gave me sausage.”
The dog said, “All the time I’ve lived here, you’ve fed me nothing but dry bones. That little girl gave me fresh bread.”
The daughter said, “All the time I’ve lived here, you’ve given me nothing but rags to wear. That little girl gave me a warm red shawl.”
Baba Yaga gnashed her iron teeth and screeched, “I’ll be back to deal with you all, once I’ve caught my supper!”
She leapt into her mortar and thumped her pestle on the ground.
The little girl heard the thumping and ran faster.
But the thumping got louder and closer. The little girl knew that Baba Yaga would soon catch up with her, so she pulled the polished wooden comb from her hair and threw it behind her.
As soon as the comb hit the ground, it turned into a tight-packed thorny hedge. Baba Yaga couldn’t fit her mortar and pestle between the thorns, so she had to stop chasing.
The little girl ran.
Baba Yaga used her iron teeth to cut down the hedge, and started chasing the little girl again.
The little girl heard the thumping get louder and closer, so she threw the blue napkin behind her.
As soon as the napkin hit the ground, it turned into a deep blue lake. Baba Yaga couldn’t thump her pestle on the water, so she had to stop chasing.
The little girl ran.
Baba Yaga bent down, drank up all the lake, and started chasing the little girl again.
The little girl heard the thumping get louder and closer, so she found the white pebble in her pocket and threw it behind her.
As soon as the pebble hit the ground it turned into a high icy mountain range.
Baba Yaga started to climb the mountains, but before she reached the top, she was frozen solid by the cold. She stuck to the mountain, with icicles dangling from her iron teeth. And the last anyone heard, she was still there.
So the little girl went home, and when the stepmother saw her step-daughter return safely from Baba Yaga’s hut carrying pins and thread, she was so afraid of the little girl’s cleverness and power that she ran away and was never seen again.
Baba Yaga’s dog and cat and daughter lived happily in the hut on hen’s legs. And they always ate sausage and bread for supper. Never ever little girls.
Aliquipiso and the Cliffs
Native American legend
Long ago, the Oneida were a small tribe and their age-old enemies the Mingos were a much larger tribe, with many more warriors.
One year, the Mingos attacked in force. This time they didn’t just wa
nt to win a few minor battles with the Oneida. This time they wanted to destroy the tribe. The Mingos drove the Oneida from their villages, killed most of the men and captured many of the women and children.
The survivors found a hiding place in the high rocks and cliffs of the mountains, following secret paths known only to their tribe, but they knew they were not safe forever.
“The Mingos are still searching and will find our trail eventually,” the elders said, as they sat in council. “And our food is running out, so we may starve before they find us.”
“We don’t need to wait here to die,” said a young girl called Aliquipiso. “I have an idea. We are sheltering at the top of a high cliff, we are surrounded by sharp and heavy rocks. If we can get the Mingo warriors to gather at the foot of the cliff, we can throw the rocks down and crush them. If they lose their warriors, the tribe will go home and leave us in peace.”
“But how can we get them all to stand in the right place, just where we can aim rocks at them?” asked the elders.
“I will go down and lure the warriors to the perfect spot, then I will shout when it is time for you to throw the rocks.”
“But Aliquipiso, if you lure them into position and you shout for the rocks, then you will be crushed too.”
“I know. But I would rather die down there taking my enemies with me, than wait for death up here, watching my tribe dying around me.”
The elders praised Aliquipiso’s wisdom and blessed her courage, they hung precious shell necklaces round her neck, and they promised she would never be forgotten.
Then Aliquipiso said good-bye and she crept down the secret path from the cliffs to the land below.
As she wandered towards the smouldering remains of her village, looking lost and confused, she was spotted by Mingo scouts, who captured her and took her to their chief.
“Do you know where your people are hiding, girl?” he yelled at her.
“I will never tell you,” said Aliquipiso.
“So you do know! And you will tell me.”
“No, I will never betray my tribe,” she said.
“Yes, you will, if you want to live.”
The Mingo chief leant over to whisper threats and promises in her ear, until Aliquipiso sobbed and begged for mercy. “Please don’t hurt me! If you don’t hurt me, I’ll show you the secret path to the hiding place.”
They laughed at her weakness and her cowardice, and they let her lead them, the whole warrior band, to the foot of the cliffs.
Aliquipiso put her finger to her lips and signalled them to be quiet. She whispered, “Come close and I will tell you the secrets of my tribe and show you the hidden path to our sanctuary.”
The warriors drew closer to the girl.
She whispered more softly and beckoned them closer.
They crowded in nearer and nearer to hear her.
When the Mingo warriors were all gathered round her, in a tight close circle, Aliquipiso shouted “Now!”
The Oneida threw hundreds of heavy sharp rocks down on the heads of their enemies, and crushed them.
The rocks also crushed the girl who had led her enemies into the trap.
The rocks killed Aliquipiso.
But her plan worked. The Mingo tribe was so weakened by the loss of their young men that they left the Oneida in peace.
The Oneida went home and rebuilt their villages, and the tribe grew and prospered.
And because the elders had blessed Aliquipiso’s cleverness and courage, and the tribe had promised she would never be forgotten, Aliquipiso became part of the land: her long hair became the tendrils of the woodbine and her red blood became the flowers of the honeysuckle.
The Oneida still tell the story of the girl who saved their tribe, grandparents passing on the story to children round the campfire. Aliquipiso’s story will be passed on with pride and gratitude for as long as there are Oneida on this earth, and as long as woodbine and honeysuckle grow out of this earth.
Tokoyo and the Skin Rope
Japanese legend
Tokoyo lived long ago in a village on the coast of Japan. Her father was a healer who believed that he should never walk past someone who needed his skills, that if someone was injured or ill, he should always stop to help. He hoped to teach Tokoyo how to be a healer too, he hoped to share his skills and his knowledge of herbs with her.
But Tokoyo had a different passion. She loved to dive with the pearl fishers of the coast, the women who trained long and hard to dive deep under the waves. Tokoyo was learning to how to hold her breath for minutes at a time, to search for oysters, then prise them open with a knife to see if there was a pearl inside.
Tokoyo loved the challenge of holding her breath, she loved the underwater world where light and sound were so different from onshore, and she loved the gamble of not knowing which oysters would contain pearls.
One day the local warlord fell ill. Tokoyo’s father tried to heal him, but it was an illness the healer had never seen before. The warlord was struggling to breathe, his lungs were filling up with fluid, he felt like he was very slowly drowning. Tokoyo’s father, even with all his learning, skills and herbs, couldn’t heal the warlord. So the warlord, who couldn’t tolerate failure, exiled Tokoyo’s father.
Her father was sent to a far-away island to be imprisoned, never to come home again. He was exiled so fast that Tokoyo didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.
She decided to follow him to the island, to find him, to keep him company, perhaps even to help him escape.
After a long journey she arrived on the island and started to search. The island was very different from her own coastal home. No-one dived for pearls; instead the men fished with long nets, from small boats.
As she searched the shore for any signs of her father’s prison, she saw something glitter in the morning sun. She saw a silver shape on a high rock above a stony beach.
She ran closer. It was a girl, in a silver robe, being pushed to the edge of the rock by a priest. The girl was screaming and struggling.
Tokoyo shouted, “No!” and ran towards the rock.
She ran past a line of men on the beach, local fishermen in a half-circle round the rock, who weren’t doing anything to help the girl.
“No!” Tokoyo shouted again and scrambled up the rock.
She stood between the girl and the edge, holding her arms out to block the way. “What are you doing?” she asked the priest.
“I’m throwing her into the sea.”
“Why? Can she even swim?” Tokoyo glanced at the girl, who shook her head. “Why would you throw a girl who can’t swim into the sea? She’ll die!”
The priest nodded. “Someone must die, because there is a giant sea serpent living under this island, and he causes storms which sink our boats and drown our fishermen, unless we give him a gift once a year. A gift of a girl, to eat. So if we don’t throw this girl into the sea, then our fishermen will die.”
Tokoyo looked at the weeping girl and at the frightened faces of the fishermen below. She thought of her father, who never walked past someone who needed his help. She took a slow breath, deep into her strong lungs. She felt the breath fill her body and she knew how long she could hold it. She felt the sharp oyster knife in the waistband of her dark tunic.
Tokoyo said, “If you must give the giant serpent a gift, then give me.”
“You?” said the priest. “You would sacrifice yourself for this girl?”
“Yes, but will you do me one favour in return? There is a healer imprisoned on this island. Please take him a message from me. Tell him that his daughter came looking for him, but that I stopped to help someone on the way.”
Then Tokoyo balanced on the edge of the rock above the sea and stretched her arms upwards.
“Not yet,” called the priest. “You must wear the silver robe, so the sea serpent knows you are the gift and leaves our boats alone.”
The girl undid the silver belt and pulled off the silver robe, and Tokoyo tied it round hersel
f.
She stood on the edge again, her arms raised. The priest stepped towards her, but she shook her head. “There is no need to push me. I go willingly.” She took a deep breath and dived off the rock.
She dived down down down, into the flat cold sea.
Tokoyo could see underwater, but not clearly, because light moves differently under the sea, as if the light from above and the shadows from below ripple together. However she could see enough to glimpse a black arch in the bottom of the rock. A cave. The cave where the giant sea serpent lived.
To one side of the cave, Tokoyo saw a man, standing on the seabed. She swam closer.
The man was just standing, staring at her. Eyes wide open, mouth wide open.
She swam even closer. Was the sea monster a man, rather than a serpent?
She swam cautiously closer still, then she recognised the man. He was the warlord who had exiled her father.
She swam closer and the man just stared, he didn’t move. This wasn’t a man, this was a statue. A wooden statue of the warlord, deep underwater.
She looked at the statue’s wide open mouth, full of seawater, and she thought about the illness her father couldn’t cure, and she wondered…
Suddenly there was a surge of water from the dark arch, which knocked Tokoyo over. She tumbled through the sea.
When she regained control, she was already in the serpent’s mouth. Huge fangs above her and huge fangs below her were closing around her. So she put her feet against the forked tongue coiled at the back of the mouth, and she kicked, pushing herself off and propelling herself fast through the water and out of the serpent’s mouth.
The mouth snapped shut and Tokoyo saw the sea serpent, huge and yellow and scaly, look confused at the lack of food in its mouth.
She turned and swam off, zigging and zagging, trying to get away from that giant yellow head. But the sea serpent followed her, weaving and winding through the water.
Tokoyo was fast and tricky, but the sea serpent was faster and followed her every move. Then with a lurch and a snap, the serpent had her. The hem of her silver robe was trapped between the monster’s fangs. She couldn’t get away, she was dangling from the serpent’s mouth, looking up into its huge hungry eyes.
