The Tale of the Field Maiden
There was, and yet there was nothing —A cheerful thrush sings,
Sending us joy.
Once there lived a wealthy man who had three daughters and only one son. When the time came for the old man to die, he called his son and said:
"My son, God and fate helped me amass this wealth. I worked hard myself, and I pushed others, and so I raised you. My life in this world has come to an end; I am dying, and I ask you to marry off your three sisters—daughters of sin. Do not seek suitors—whoever comes first, give them to him."
"Do not worry, father," replied the son. "You live on, and I will take care of my sisters."
The wealthy man died, and his son buried him according to law and custom.
Time passed. One day, the son was sitting by the doorstep when he saw someone approaching from far away. The stranger walked and walked, arrived, neither cold nor warm, and said:
"Give me your eldest sister in marriage."
The son remembered his father's wish and said:
"Very well, I will give her to you, but at least tell me your name or surname. Who are you, where are you from, what is your trade? After all, I must know where to find you—whether as a concerned friend or an enemy. Perhaps you are a thief or a bandit. I will give you my sister, and you might take her away and sell her into slavery."
"I did not come here to talk," said the guest. "I will not tell you my name or surname. If you want, give me your sister; if not, farewell!" And he left.
The son thought, "Well, it is not my fault; such was my father's will." He brought out his eldest sister and gave her away.
More time passed. Another man came and said:
"Give me your middle sister in marriage."
The son asked him the same questions:
"Who are you, where are you from, where are you going, what do you do? After all, I must know whether to visit you as a guest, seek protection from an enemy, or ask for help in times of trouble. She is my sister, my flesh and blood. Who would throw away a sister or brother like that?"
"I will not tell you my name or speak of my lineage. If you want, give me your sister; if not, I will leave, and you can stay," said the guest.
What could the brother do? He gave him his middle sister, finding solace only in the fact that he had fulfilled his father's will.
More time passed, and a third man appeared, asking for the youngest sister in marriage. The brother spoke to him and questioned him as he had done with the first two, and this man answered in the same way.
What could the brother do? He gave away his youngest sister and was left alone.
The young man grew sad: "I have lost my father, and I do not know where I have scattered my sisters." He entered a dark cell, locked himself in, and sat there, seeing neither day nor night. He sat there alone.
The king learned of this. He summoned his advisors and ordered:
"Find someone who can bring that young man out of the darkness into the light. I will reward them handsomely."
They found an old woman.
"I will bring him into the light, but give me twenty children."
"Take a hundred if you need!" they told the old woman, gave her the children, and sent her on her way.
They waited. The old woman took the children, gave them a ball, brought them to the roof of the cell, and told them to play until nightfall. The children started their game, running back and forth, making noise, stomping. The young man in his cell endured and endured, but finally, he could bear it no longer. He ran out and began chasing the children. The king's guards saw him, seized him, and brought him to the king.
The king freed the young man and asked:
"What is the reason you locked yourself in that cell?"
"I had a father, and I buried him," said the young man. "I had three sisters, and I lost them—I gave them away to people whose names, origins, and lives I do not know."
"And whose will led you to do this?" asked the king.
"My father's will: he commanded me to give my sisters to whoever came first and asked for them, without question."
"Well, if it was your father's will, you have no reason to worry. If your father had no wisdom, he would not have amassed such wealth. Do not cry; the time will come when you will see your sisters and their husbands. Strengthen your heart and do not grieve!"
The king made him the commander of his troops and seated him beside him. One day, the army went out hunting. Suddenly, they saw a girl flitting through the field, jumping from one blade of grass to another, sitting on one flower, then another. She was so beautiful, so light, so lovely—such a beauty could not be found in life or even in dreams. They surrounded her, trying to catch her, but she would fly up, soar over their heads, land farther away, and play with the flowers again.
The entire army chased her, including the commander, but how could they catch her? She would flutter away, land farther off, and laugh.
They grew tired, their horses exhausted, only the commander's horse still held on. The young man chased the girl, urging his horse on, but even his horse fell. The girl flew past and disappeared. The young man looked around—no girl, no army, no familiar places, no village, no house, no people. He sat down and cried.
The Field Maiden approached him, sat on a flower, and said:
"Aren't you ashamed—sitting and crying, are you a man or not? Stand up, look around, the world is vast. Why are you sitting with your hands folded, crying like a woman?"
The young man stood up, wiped his tears, and looked around. In the distance, he saw a white house. He walked toward it. He walked and walked until he reached it. He saw a house as grand as a royal palace. In front of it, a stream flowed, and water ran through a silver gutter. The young man sat by the stream to rest. He was tired and hungry.
A servant girl came out of the house, approached the stream, holding a jug. The young man asked her to give him the jug to drink some water. She handed it to him. He drank the water and dropped his ring into the jug. The servant took the jug, filled it with water, and carried it to her mistress. The woman drank the water, and the ring fell out of the jug.
The woman saw the ring and cried out:
"Who gave you this ring?"
“No one gave it to me. There’s a young man sitting by the stream; he asked for water to drink—maybe he dropped it there. There’s no one else,” says the maid.
Immediately, they sent for the young man. He came and saw his older sister. They embraced and kissed.
The sister asked how he had come to her. The brother told her that he had seen a girl in the field:
“Her beauty burned me. I chased after her, but she leaped the length of a plow’s harness. I chased and chased, wore out my horse, but couldn’t catch her. I was left alone in the field and barely managed to find your house—otherwise, I’d have been crow’s food in the field.”
“Woe is me, brother,” says the sister. “It’s no easy task to catch the Field Maiden. If it were easy, why would your brother-in-law have married me instead of her? Her fate is this: whoever catches her, she dies.”
The sister hid her brother, fearing that her husband, the Eagle, might harm him. In the evening, the Eagle appeared.
The wife said to her husband:
“My brother has come to visit us. You won’t harm him, will you?”
“Harm him? I’ve been waiting for such a guest for so long! Bring him here quickly.”
The brother came out, they embraced, kissed, and began to talk. The Eagle asked:
“What brings you to us?”
The brother told him everything in detail.
“Don’t be angry with me, brother,” says the brother-in-law, “but if it were possible to catch the Field Maiden, why would I have married your sister? It’s not easy to do. You can’t even manage what I can—how will you catch her? Leave her be, don’t grieve. We’ll find you another wife, but forget her.”
“No,” says the brother. “I’ll die before I give up on her! And I ask you, my brother-in-law, don’t hold back—give me a horse, and I’ll be grateful.”
“Don’t worry about the horse,” says the brother-in-law. “My herds fill the fields—take any horse you want. But listen to me: drop this matter.”
“I won’t drop it—I’d rather die chasing her!” says the brother.
“Then I’ll find you a horse that leaps the length of a plow’s harness in a single bound.”
The brother remembered that the Field Maiden also leaped the length of a plow’s harness and rejoiced. He took the horse, mounted it, bid farewell to his hosts, and raced off in pursuit of the Field Maiden.
Soon, he saw the Field Maiden. She flew away from the young man, and he chased after her. His horse leaped the length of one plow’s harness, but the girl leaped twice as far—the young man fell behind.
But it seemed the Field Maiden had taken a liking to him: whenever she flew away, she would sit on the grass, drink nectar from flowers like water, and eat pollen like bread, waiting for him. When the young man approached, she would flutter away again. He urged his horse on, chasing the Field Maiden. The horse collapsed, and the young man was left alone in the field. He sat down and cried in frustration.
The girl approached, sat beside him, and said:
“Do you have a hat or not? Why are you crying? Aren’t you ashamed? You must not be a man, but a woman—all you know how to do is cry. Stand up, look around, go and see—the world is vast. Maybe you’ll find help.”
The young man stood up, stopped crying, looked around, and indeed saw a house in the distance. He walked to the house. There lived his middle sister, married to Pashkundzhi. The brother came and told his sister everything.
She said:
“Give it up! This isn’t for you! Even your brother-in-law, a fine young man, chased her for a long time, but not even the son of death could catch her!”
In the evening, Pashkundzhi came home. The young man told Pashkundzhi about his troubles. His brother-in-law didn’t praise him:
“If she were so easy to catch, why would I have married your sister?” he said. “Give it up, don’t destroy yourself for nothing.”
“You’d better give me a horse,” the guest pleaded.
Pashkundzhi gave him a horse that could leap the length of two plow’s harnesses in a single bound. The young man bid farewell to his sister and brother-in-law, mounted the horse, and rode off.
The girl flew, leaping the length of three plow’s harnesses, while the young man’s horse could only manage two. The young man fell behind, the horse collapsed, and he was left alone in the open field—no people, no dwellings around.
He grew sad, sat down, and cried. Whether he cried for a long time or a short time, the Field Maiden eventually approached him, sat on the grass, crossed her legs, and laughed. Then she grew angry with him:
“Stand up if you’re a man! If not, you don’t deserve to live!”
The young man stood up, stopped crying, looked around, and saw a house in the distance. He walked to the house. As he approached, he saw a stream near the house; he sat by the stream, waiting to see if someone would bring a pitcher for water to drink. A girl came, brought a pitcher, and set it by a golden trough to collect water. The young man asked for a drink.
The girl gave him the pitcher, he drank the water, dropped a ring into the pitcher, and gave it back to the girl. The girl carried the water back. The woman drank, and the ring fell out of the pitcher.
The woman asked:
“Where did you get this ring?”
“I didn’t take it from anywhere. A young man by the stream asked for a pitcher to drink water—maybe he dropped it.”
“Go and bring him here at once,” said the woman.
The young man came, they embraced and kissed. It was his youngest sister. She asked what had brought him there. He told her everything.
“Woe to your sister,” she said. “If she were so easy to catch, why would your brother-in-law have married me? He’d have taken her as his wife, not me. No one can catch her—otherwise, her life would end.”
The sister hid her brother.
In the evening, the brother-in-law arrived and asked:
"Has anyone come here?"
His wife replied:
"No one has come."
Then she added:
"If your wife's brother were to come here, what would you do?"
"I wouldn't do anything. I'd hug him and kiss him."
Then she brought out her brother, and the brother-in-law embraced and kissed him.
"What brings you here?" the brother-in-law asked. "What wind has carried you here?"
The brother shared his troubles, his sorrows, and his worries.
"Ah, may your brother-in-law perish! Why did you take on this task? If that woman could be caught so easily, I wouldn't have married your sister. You'd better leave her and return home."
"No," the brother replied. "It's too late to say 'leave her.' I won't abandon her, even if I knew I would die as soon as I leave here. If you wish me well, brother-in-law, give me a horse so I can chase after her immediately."
"Giving you a horse is no trouble. Take twenty, or even sixty horses," said the brother-in-law, "but I tell you again, you'll ride in vain."
The brother took a horse that could run as fast as three plow teams, bid farewell to his brother-in-law and sister, and set off in pursuit of the maiden.
Whether he traveled long or short, he eventually found himself in foreign, unfamiliar lands. His horse ran as fast as three teams, but the maiden's ran as fast as four. His third horse fell. The young man sat down and wept. There was no one around, no human dwelling in sight. His brothers-in-law were far away, impossible to find. There was no one left to turn to, no hope at all. He sat and cried.
Then the Field Maiden approached, sat beside the young man, crossed her legs, and said:
"Are you crying again? Aren't you ashamed, even in front of me? Are you even a man? Shame on your courage! Get up, look around, and turn whatever you see—be it good or evil—to your advantage!"
The young man felt ashamed, stood up, and walked on. He saw three devils fighting, killing each other, with no one to separate them, no soul in sight.
The young man approached and asked:
"Why are you fighting, devils? What can't you share?"
"Well," said the eldest devil, "we have one carpet. If you sit on it and say, 'Hey, carpet!' it will carry you wherever you wish. We also have a comb. No matter how steep the cliff, if you say to the comb, 'Hey, comb!' it will immediately create a ladder up the cliff, as easy to climb as walking across a field. And we have a grindstone. Dip it in the sea and say, 'Hey, grindstone!' and no matter how vast the sea, it will drink it all and dry it up. So we're fighting over these things—the carpet, the comb, and the grindstone—because we can't divide them. Will you judge for us?"
"Very well," said the young man, "I'll divide them for you. I'll shoot three arrows. The one who brings back the first arrow gets the carpet, the second gets the comb, and the third gets the grindstone."
The devils were delighted: this was a fair judgment.
The young man shot the arrows over nine mountains. The devils ran after them and disappeared behind the mountains. The young man sat on the carpet, took the comb and the grindstone, and shouted, "Hey, carpet!" and flew faster than the wind. He sped off to catch up with his Field Maiden.
She raced ahead, hurrying, but the carpet was gaining on her. They flew across fields and meadows until they reached high cliffs.
The Field Maiden leaped and flew over the cliff.
"Hey, comb!" the young man said to the comb, and a ladder appeared on the cliff, as wide as a field.
The carpet flew up the ladder, and the young man caught up with the maiden again. They raced like this until they reached a vast sea. The maiden threw herself into the sea and sped forward.
"Hey, grindstone!" the young man said and dipped the grindstone into the sea. The sea dried up instantly. The young man raced across the dry seabed and almost caught the maiden. He grabbed her veil, but she twisted away and flew into her father's house, leaving only the veil in the young man's hands.
The Field Maiden entered the house and rushed to her father.
"What's wrong, my daughter? Who are you running from?" her father asked.
She told him everything—how the young man had chased her all the way to the doorstep, almost caught her, but only managed to tear off her veil.
The father went out, embraced the young man, and kissed him.
"The son-in-law I've been waiting for has arrived!"
They invited the young man into the house and honored him.
The maiden's fate was this: if anyone caught her, it would kill her, but if someone proved brave enough to chase her all the way home, he would become her husband.
The young man married the Field Maiden and brought her to his homeland. The Field Maiden and the young man are still alive today, and people have often seen her flitting from flower to flower.
Death there, feast here,
Chaff there, flour here,
Elasa, melasa,
A jug hung on me,
To the storyteller, to the listener,
Happiness to you and me.
More fairy tales
- Khutkunchula
- The Son of the Raven
- The Conqueror of the Strongest
- The Hunter's Son
- One and a Half Handfuls
