Where Owls Came From

At the foot of the hill of Saint-Rivolain, where the trees scattered across the plain, right on the bank where the wild shrubs dipped their thorny branches into the swift waters of the Blavet River, there once lived an old man and an old woman. They lived in a wretched hovel called the "Rat's Shack."

The old man fished, and the old woman spun wool and knitted. But luck was never on their side. Either the fish wouldn’t bite, or there wasn’t enough wool. So, they often went to bed hungry.

One day, the old man cast his net into the deepest part of the river, and—lo and behold!—this time, unkind fate had prepared a pleasant surprise for him: he caught a huge, enormous fish. Its head reached one bank, and its tail slapped the other. How could one man haul such a fish ashore? Yet, it was a shame to let it go.

"Such luck doesn’t come every day," thought the old man. "I won’t let it go back into the river!"

The old man had an old rifle, but the bullet was missing. So, he picked up two sturdy acorns from the ground and shot at the fish. The fish thrashed so violently that the river overflowed its banks; it leaped into the air and then fell back into the water, stopped moving, and its eyes rolled back.

The old man had lived many years, but he had never seen such a wonder!

He ran home to fetch the old woman to help him drag the miraculous fish to their "Rat's Shack." When they returned to the riverbank together, the fish was gone! As if it had never been there. And in its place, two mighty oak trees had risen from the riverbed, their branches reaching high into the heavens.

"What a miracle!" exclaimed the fisherman. "Some magical force must have intervened. Where else have you seen oaks grow from a river in an instant, and dead fish swim back to their native waters? It seems to me these oaks didn’t grow here for nothing; the lord of the sky must be inviting us to visit him. Why don’t you, wife, go up there and ask him for this and that—say, enough bread and sparkling cider? After all, you bow to him every day, and he’ll surely honor your request."

"Are you out of your mind, old man? At my age, climbing trees!"

But the old man insisted: climb, he said, and climb, ask for bread and cider aplenty, and he wouldn’t refuse.

So, the old woman had to climb the oak, though her years were far from young. From branch to branch, the higher she went, the easier it became. She reached the very sky, where an old man with keys stood at the gates and wouldn’t let her pass.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To your master," said the old woman. "I have business with him."

"Tell me your business, and I’ll relay it to him."

"Oh, no," said the old woman. "We have a saying: ask the master, not the servant. If I’ve climbed this high, I want to see the lord himself."

The gatekeeper took offense and blocked her way. Words led to words, and soon they were engaged in a shameful argument. One shouted, the other gave no quarter. Fortunately, the lord himself heard the noise and came out to them—after all, such commotion in the heavens didn’t happen every day. He recognized the mistress of the "Rat's Shack" and said:

"Aren’t you ashamed, old woman, to quarrel with my helper?"

And the old woman replied:

"I’ve come to you, lord, with a great request. My husband and I have grown old, and we no longer have the strength to work as we once did. Life has become very hard for us! If only you could give us enough bread and sweet cider, we would be forever grateful."

"Very well, your wish shall be granted! You shall eat and drink to your heart’s content," said the lord of the sky.

Overjoyed, the old woman descended the oak as lightly as a young girl and hurried back to the "Rat's Shack." But she froze on the threshold in amazement! On the table, golden-brown bread was steaming, and in large bottles, golden cider was frothing.

From that day on, the "Rat's Shack" was filled with plenty. They ate their fill and drank to their hearts’ content. But, as they say, a person always wants more, and so the old man said to his wife:

"Bread, bread—always bread! Why not some bacon or meat, and strong wine instead of this apple water? You should go, old woman, to our lord and ask him to send us strong wine and all sorts of food. You already know the way."

It was true; she did know the way. So, the old woman set off to see the lord of the sky, the master of the bright day. This time, however, he greeted her less kindly, though he promised to fulfill her request. And so, life in the "Rat's Shack" became merry. But alas, abundance and idleness are poor advisors in life. The old man began to be consumed by vanity.

"It’s good," he said to his wife, "to eat and drink our fill, but I deserve more. You should go, old woman, to our lord. Tell him my old man asks to take his place for just one day. All I want is to be the lord of the world for one day after all my hardships and humiliations."

That’s what the master of the "Rat's Shack" had come up with!

The old woman had barely climbed the first branch of the oak when she heard the lord’s voice from above:

"Stop, old woman! I know why you’ve come. Your old man wants to be the lord of the world? Very well, but with a condition. You shall be lords, but only of the night. That’s what you deserve!"

The old woman was so astonished that she opened her mouth and could only say, "Whoo!"—and in an instant, she turned into a gray owl.

When the old man saw her, he was so surprised that he too exclaimed, "Whoo!"—and in a flash, he became an owl. They abandoned their "Rat's Shack" and hid in shame in the hollow of the oak.

Since then, they stay in the hollow during the day, afraid to show themselves in the light. Only at night do they fly out, scaring everyone with their cries—"Whoo! Whoo!"—the lords of the night.

And now you know where owls come from.

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Where Owls Came From

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