The Pobratim Part 26

That cat, of course, was a witch--not a simple _baornitza_, but a real sorceress, able to do whatever she chose to put her hand to.

The nimble cat ran with the speed of a stone hurled from a sling, and Milena, panting, breathless, stumbling every now and then, ran after it with all her might. Several times the fleet-footed animal disappeared; still, she was not disheartened, but ran on and came in sight of it after some time. At last, she saw the cat run straight towards a distant cottage. Milena slackened her speed, then she stopped to look round.

The cottage was built on a low muddy beach. She remembered having been in that lonely spot once before with Uros; she had seen the strand all covered with bloated bluish medusas, melting away in the sun.

With a beating heart and quivering limbs Milena stopped on the threshold of the hut, and looked about her for the cat. The door was ajar; perhaps it had gone in. For a moment she hesitated whether she should turn on her heels and run off or enter.

A powerful witch like that could, all at once, a.s.sume the most horrible shape, and frighten her out of her wits!

As she stood there, undecided as to what she was to do, the door opened, as if by a sudden blast of wind, and there was no time to retreat. Milena then, to her surprise, saw an old woman standing in the middle of the hut. She was quietly breaking sticks and putting them on a smouldering fire. As for the cat, it was, of course, nowhere to be seen.

The old woman, almost bent double by age, turned, and seeing Milena, smiled. Her face did not express the slightest fear or ill-humour, nay, she seemed as if she had been expecting her.

"Good evening, _domlada_," said the old woman, with a most winning voice, "have you lost your way, or is there anything you want of me?"

Milena hesitated; had she been spoken to in a rough, disagreeable manner, she would, doubtless, have been daunted by the thought that she was putting her soul in jeopardy by having recourse to the witch; but the woman's voice was so soft and soothing, her words so encouraging, her ways so motherly, that, getting over her nervousness, she went in at once, and, almost without knowing it, she found herself induced to relate all her troubles to this utter stranger.

"First, if you want me to help you," said the old woman, "you must try and help yourself."

"And how so?"

"By thinking as little as possible of a handsome youth who is now at sea."

Milena blushed.

"Then you must bear your husband's ill-humour, even his blows, patiently, and, little by little, get him to understand what kind of a man Vranic is. Radonic is in love with you; therefore, 'the sack cannot remain without the twine.' You must not fear Vranic; 'the place of the uninvited guest is, you know, behind the door.'

Moreover, to protect you against him, I'll give you a most powerful charm."

Saying this, she went to a large wooden chest and got out of it a little bag, which she handed to Milena.

"In it," whispered the old woman, mysteriously, "there is some hair of a wolf that has tasted human flesh, the claw of a rabid old cat, a tiny bit of a murdered man's skull, a few leaflets of rue gathered on St. John's Night under a gibbet, and some other things. It is a potent spell; still, efficient as it is, you must help it in its work."

Milena promised the old woman to be guided entirely by her advice.

"Remember never to give way to Vranic in the least, for, even with my charm, if you listen to him you might become his prey. You must not do like the dove did."

"And what did the dove do?"

"What! don't you know? Well, sit down there, and I'll tell you."

"But I'm afraid I'll be troubling you."

"Not at all; besides, I'll prepare my soup while I chat."

"Still, I'm afraid my husband might get home and not find me; then----"

"Then you'll keep him a little longer at the inn."

Saying these words, the witch threw some vegetables in the pot simmering on the hob, and on the fire something like a pinch of salt, for at once the wood began to splutter and crackle; after that, she went to the door and looked out.

"See how it pours!" said she. "Radonic will have to wait till the rain is over."

Milena shuddered and crossed herself; she was more than ever convinced that the old woman was a mighty sorceress who had command over the wind and the rain.

"Well," began the _stari-mati_, "once a beautiful white dove had built her nest in a large tree; she laid several eggs, hatched them, and had as many lovely dovelets. One day, a sly old fox, pa.s.sing underneath, began leering at the dove from the corner of his eye, as old men ogle pretty girls at windows. The dove got uneasy. Thereupon, the fox ordered the bird to throw down one of her young ones. 'If you don't, I swear by my whiskers to climb up the tree and gobble you down, you ----, and all your young ones.'

"The poor dove was in sore trouble, and, quaking with fear, seeing the fox lay its front paws on the trunk of the tree, she, flurried as she was, caught one of her little ones by its neck and threw it down. The fox made but a mouthful of it, grumbling withal that it was such a meagre morsel.

"'Mind and fatten those that are left, for I'll call again to-morrow, and if the others are only skin and bones, as the little scarecrow you've thrown me down is, you'll have, at least, to give me two.'

"The fox went off. The poor dove remained in her nest, mourning over her lost little one, and shuddering as she thought of the morrow.

Just then another bird happened to perch above the branch where the dove had her nest.

"'I say, dove,' said the other bird, 'what's up, that you are cooing in such a dreary, disconsolate way?'

"The dove thereupon related all that had happened.

"'Oh, you simpleton! oh, you fool!' quoth the other bird, 'how could you have been so silly as to believe the sly old fox? You ought to have known that foxes cannot climb trees; therefore, when he comes to-morrow, ordering you to throw him down a couple of your little ones, just you tell him to come up himself and get them.'

"The day after, when the fox came for his meal, the dove simply answered:

"'Don't you wish you may get it!'

"And the dove laughed in her sleeve to see the fox look so sheepish.

"'Who told you that?' said Reynard; 'you never thought of it yourself, you are too stupid.'

"'No,' quoth the dove, 'I did not. The bird that has built her nest by the sedges near the river told it me.'

"'So,' said the fox; and he turned round and went off to the bird that had built her nest by the river sedges, without even saying ta-ta to the dove. He soon found her out.

"'I say, bird, what made you build your nest in such a breezy spot?'

said the fox, with a twinkling eye.

"'Oh! I don't mind the wind,' said the bird. 'For instance, when it blows from the north-east, I put my head under my left wing, like this."

"Thereupon, the bird put its head under its left wing, and peeped at the fox with its right eye.

"'And when it blows from the south-west?' asked the fox.

"'Then I do the contrary.'

"And the bird put its head under its right wing, and peeped at the fox with its left eye.

"'And when it blows from every side of the compa.s.s at once?'

"'It never does,' said the bird, laughing.