East of the Moon and West of the Sun
Once upon a time there was a miller. He had six sons and seven daughters. He worked hard every day, but however hard he worked, there never seemed to be enough money for all his children to be fed and clothed
His eldest son had a hole in his shoe, and his toes poked through.
The next one had holes in his socks and his ankles poked through.
The next one had holes in his trousers, and his knees poked through.
Another had a jersey that was more hole than wool and his elbows poked through.
Another had a shirt that was far too small, and his belly was naked to the wind.
And the youngest could only ever wear the clothes that his older brothers were not using that day -
and sometimes you saw his toes,
and sometimes you saw his ankles
and sometimes you saw his knees
and sometimes you saw his elbows
and sometimes you saw his belly
but most of the time you saw nothing at all but his head and shoulders, because he had to stay in bed, covered up in the one thin blanket.
The eldest daughter was so thin that you could play piano on her ribs.
The next sister was so thin that her eyes almost popped out of her head.
The next sister was so thin that if she turned sideways, you couldn't see her.
Another sister was so light that a gentle wind could blow her over.
Another sister was so light that she could ride on the back of a mouse.
The sixth sister was so light that a bird would think she was a feather
But the youngest sister, beloved of all, was the most beautiful girl in the village, and the young men would dream of her when the wind was high, and sigh for her when the wind was low, and they all loved her until their hearts ached. But she didn't notice She didn't care She didn't give a fig and passed them by with a toss of her long black hair and a flash of her dark black eye, which only made the young men fall even more deeply in love with her, so they pined away and became nearly as thin as the six sisters, taking so little care of themselves that their clothes were almost as ragged and tattered as the clothes of the six brothers. Then the mothers and the fathers of the village said that they must do something about the miller's daughter if they didn't want all their sons to fade away, and all their daughters to have to leave home to look for their husbands and never come back.
Then, one day, the big white bear who lived to the north, and who would sometimes exchange a tasty salmon for a pint of beer, came to the miller, and said to him, "Miller, if you will give me your youngest daughter, I will make you rich."
Well, the Miller loved his youngest daughter, and indeed, she was his favourite, but he loved his other children too, so when he thought about how thin his daughters were, and about how ragged were the clothes of his sons, he came to a decision. He went to talk to his daughter, and he said to her, "Listen, my love, the great white bear has asked for your hand. If you accept, we will be rich, and your brothers and your sisters will be able to buy some new clothes, and will eat enough to stop the wind from knocking them down. The bear is a handsome enough beast, and he is always very courteous when he comes here to barter his salmon. I've no doubt he will make a fine husband for you, even though he is a bit furry."
The daughter listened to her father, and she thought about it. It didn't seem right for a girl to be marrying a bear, even though he might be rich, and even though he might be well-behaved. So she told her father she would not give her hand to her strange suitor. The miller shrugged and turned away.
That night, it was as cold as cold could be, so cold that a man could not cry, for his eyes would freeze up, and the icicles shone in the trees like a million stars. The youngest son of all had to creep out of the house in the middle of the night to go to the loo; he had nothing to wear because his brothers had all the clothes, and in the morning, the miller found him shining like a block of ice and looking at him with a cold, cold, smile. So he went to his daughter and he said to her; "Listen, my love, you can see how hard it is for us all. We have not enough clothes to put on our backs, and your dear brother has been frozen to a block. If you will give your hand to the great white bear, we'll be able to buy fur coats for all the family, and we'll never freeze again."
The daughter listened to her father, and she thought about it. It still didn't seem right for a girl to be marrying a bear, however rich and courteous he may be, and so, although she was very sorry for her brother, she told her father that she could not give her hand to her strange suitor. The miller shrugged and turned away.
That night, the wind blew as hard as ever the wind had blown, and perhaps even harder than that; it rattled the windows, it knocked at the doors and it almost blew the heavy slate roof off the mill. Now, the eldest sister, who was out in the woods gathering fire-wood so that they would be warm that night, was so light and thin that she was picked up and swept into the air ; the last the miller saw of her, with her skirt spread out against the sky, she had joined the storm-birds up amongst the blackest clouds. So when he saw that, he went to his youngest daughter, and he said to her; "Listen, my love, it is not that much that I am asking of you. We have not enough food to put in our bellies, and your dear sister has been blown away with the storm birds. If you were to give your hand to the great white bear, we would be able to buy meat and bread for the family, and walk upon the ground even when the wind is blowing at its strongest."
The daughter listened to her father, and she thought about it. It still didn't seem right for a girl to be marrying a bear, however rich and courteous he might be, but she was very sorry for her brother, and she was very sorry for her sister, and to see her poor father so pained by what had happened to his children pulled at her heart. So she told him to let the bear know that she would marry him as soon as he wanted.
The wedding was quite an affair, and the mayor gave a long speech that no one listened to, and the young men felt that their hearts were gong to break forever; the young women (although they were extremely polite about it) were very pleased at the thought that the miller's daughter was leaving, as were the fathers and the mothers of the village. The bear danced with each of the sisters, and as he danced, the sisters seemed to fill out and get a little plumper. Then he danced with the brothers, and as he danced, it seemed that their clothes became as good as new. And when all had danced and eaten and drunk until they could dance, eat and drink no more, the bear summoned his carriage, and handed the youngest daughter into it, climbed up beside her and told his coachman to take them home.
The bear's home was a great castle, surrounded by a beautiful garden full of the most colourful of flowers. There were tulips, and daffodils, roses and hollyhocks as well as chrysanthemums, lupins and tiger-lilies. Inside the castle, there were long corridors, and large rooms with high ceilings and broad windows letting in the light. The bear showed her to her room, and then disappeared. The young woman sat at her dressing table and looked into her mirror; she saw the same face that she had always seen, and the same black hair and the same black eyes, but she felt that she would never be the same again.
Night came in upon the castle, and finally, she dressed herself in her bridal gown, blew out the candles and went to bed. She waited, a little frightened, for she believed that the bear, as any husband would, was coming to join her. Indeed, after a while, when the night was as black as night could be, someone slipped into the bed beside her. She reached out, expecting to feel the furry hide of her new husband, but instead, she found a man, with skin as smooth as silk. And so it happened that every day she spent alone in the castle, walking through the rooms, or leafing through the books in the library, and every night, she went to bed and she would be joined by her husband, the man with skin as smooth as silk. For somehow she knew that her husband was a bear by day and a man by night.
Now, although the nights, in the arms of her husband, were all she could wish for, the days, when she saw no-one, and spoke to no-one, were long and deadly, so one night she said to her husband, "Listen, my love, you must let me return to see my father, and my brothers and sisters, and to find out how they are getting along, for I have a great need of company. Remember, I have always had so many brothers and sisters that I am not used to being alone."
Her husband sighed, and he said to his wife, "My love, I expected you to ask for this, but it does not make my heart any the less heavy. I cannot refuse you, for I love you, but I must tell you that by going to visit your family you put me in great danger. So you must listen to me carefully. You may go and visit your father and your brothers and your sisters for three days and for two nights, but you must promise me not spend any time alone with your sister Elena, even though I know she is your greatest friend. For if you do, only harm may come of it."
Well, she had become quite fond of her husband, and so she made the promise that he asked of her, and set off to see her family in their new mansion. She found them as happy as they could be, for they had lost two sisters, and one brother was still standing, a block of ice, outside the old mill. All of them were thrilled to see her, and they came running out to greet her. Her brothers were all dressed in the finest and the warmest clothing that money could buy, and her sisters had all filled out, and were almost as beautiful as she. She spent the first day and the first night with them, playing the old games together, and chattering and dancing as if it were Christmas or somebody's birthday. However, she remembered not to allow Elena to take her aside and have one of those long sisterly chats that had been their delight before her marriage, and this although she saw that it pained her sister.
The second day and the second night, the fun and the happiness seemed to go on just as before, but it became harder and harder to avoid her sister, and harder and harder to avoid the pain in her sister's eyes. Just before they went to bed, Elena approached her, and said; "Listen, my beloved sister, it seems that your new estate has made you forget what once we were the one to the other, and you have forgotten the hours that we would spend, pouring out the depths of our hearts to one another. And you have forgotten the promise that we made so long ago, that we would always tell each other of our troubles and of our fortunes. But, oh my sister, I have not forgotten, and never would I do such a thing!'
The young wife went to her bed that night with a clouded mind. She thought of what her sister had said to her, and she thought of what her husband had said to her, and she thought of the promise that she had made to her husband, and she thought of the promise that she had made to her sister, and she said to herself; "It is true that I made a promise to my husband, but it is also true that I made a promise to my sister, even though it was a long time ago, and I had forgotten it. Is a promise to a husband stronger than a promise to a sister? Is a promise made long ago when I was a child more binding than a promise that I made but yesterday? Is it right that my husband should ask me to break my word to my sister? And is it right that my sister should ask me to break my word to my husband?" And she thought on these things all through the night.
When she awoke, all her brothers and her sisters were waiting for her, for all knew that it was their last day together. But Elena remained apart, her eyes to the ground, her hands falling from her lap, and she would not look at her sister, and she would not smile. Thus the morning went. In the afternoon, the eldest brother took out his fiddle, and the second eldest sister sat at the piano, and they played while the others danced and sang, yet Elena sat apart, and her eyes were on the ground, her hands were falling from her lap, and she would not look at her sister.
And as the shadows drew in to announce the end of the day and the beginning of the evening, the young wife's heart felt that it would break, so she drew her sister to one side, taking her back to the old mill, into the bedroom that they had shared for so long, and she said; "Listen, my beloved sister, do not look down upon the ground, but look into my eyes. For even though I made a promise to my husband that I would not speak alone with you, you see that my promise to you is the stronger." Then she told her sister all that there was to tell her about her new life, and about the man that would come to her bed when the night was as black as night could be, and whom she had never seen. Her sister listened, then she pondered, and then she said; "Listen, my beloved sister, it is not right that a wife should never see her husband. You must take with you this candle, and these matches, and this night, when your man is sleeping, light the candle to look upon the face of the man you have married, for a man he must be, even though you only ever see the white bear by light of day."
The young wife took the candles and she took the matches, putting them in her pocket and promising her sister that she would think of what she had said. Barely ten minutes later, the white bear's carriage came to collect the bride, and the white bear was in it, waiting for his young wife. When she mounted and sat beside him, he looked into her eyes, and then he glanced at her pocket, and he said; "Listen, my beloved, you must take care. For I do believe that you have spoken to your sister alone, and I do believe that she has said things to you that were better not to have been said." The young woman saw that her husband had read her like an open book, and so she did not try to conceal her fault, if fault there had been.
Then the bear said to her; "Listen, my beloved, if you truly love me, you will not follow the advice that your sister has given you, for if you do, only harm shall come of it." The girl promised to obey her husband, but that night, after the man beside her had fallen asleep, she heard her sister's voice inside her head, insisting that it was not right that a woman should never see her husband's face. The more she heard the voice, the more it seemed that what the voice said was true, until she could bear it no more. She rose, and pulled the candle and the matches from her pocket. With trembling fingers, she lit the candle, and held it over the form of the man who shared her bed.
There, revealed to her gaze was a young man of such beauty that her breath left her body. He had hair as black as her own, thick and lustrous. He had the stern and noble nose of an eagle, the firm, wide brow of the owl, the firm chin of a prince and the soft, red mouth of a young girl. Her heart turned over within her, and, unable to prevent herself, she bent to set one kiss upon his lips. But as she did so, her hand wavered, and three drops of wax spilled from the candle, to fall upon the young man's nightgown. Before her lips could press to his, his eyes opened, and he awoke. He drew back from her, and then his eyes locked upon hers.
If her eyes were black as the night, then his were the blue of a winter sky, and as she looked into them, she felt that she could feel the cold, cold wind upon her face. Then she felt his hands upon her shoulders, though whether they were the hands of the young man, or the heavy paws of her daytime husband, she could not be certain. His mouth opened, and whether she saw the white, even teeth of the young man, or the yellow fangs of her daytime husband, she could not be sure. He spoke, and whether it was the sweet voice of her nighttime companion, or the low, patient growl of her daytime husband she could not be positive. There was love in his voice that made her tremble for joy, and there was anger in his voice that made her tremble for fear. There was sorrow in his voice that made her tremble in sympathy, and there was hope in his voice that made her tremble in expectation.
He said; "Listen, my love, my wife. In another three days, if you had not seen my human face, the enchantment would have been broken, and I would have been yours for ever. But now, I must leave you, and go far, far from here, to be married to the witch's daughter. If you love me, you can still save me, but I may tell you no more than that you will find me in the castle that lies to the east of the moon and to the west of the sun. And, oh, my beloved, it is so very far from here, and it is so very difficult to find, that I fear for you, and I fear for me, for if you do not save me, then what life will I live for the rest of my days? Now, kiss me one last time, before I go, and then I shall leave you."
The young woman looked, and she saw that where the young man had been, there was only the white bear, with his heavy paws upon her shoulders, and his yellow fangs glinting at her in the light of the candle. She knew that it was her husband, and she leaned forward, and kissed him upon the muzzle, upon which he dropped his paws from her shoulders and shuffled slowly out of the room. She blew out the candle, and lay back upon the bed. A heavy cloud seemed to descend upon her, and she drifted into sleep.
The next morning, she awoke, cold and shivering. The castle was gone; she found that she had been sleeping upon a pile of damp leaves, beneath a tall tree. In the branches of the tree, sat a small, gaily coloured bird, looking at her with its head on one side. When the bird saw that she was awake, it gave a loud shriek and flew off, alighting upon another tree some distance away. Then it looked back at her, as if waiting for her to follow. She rose to her feet, and, not knowing what else she could do to find the castle east of the moon and west of the sun, she walked towards the bird. As she approached the second, tree, the bird gave another shriek, and flew off a little further, stopping once again to look back at the white bear's bride.
Proceeding in this way, she followed the bird through the forest, until they came to a small wood cabin, beneath a walnut tree. Sitting at the door of the cabin, was an old old woman, with three teeth in her head and an old pipe jammed between them. The bird alighted upon her shoulder, and watched as the young woman approached. The old woman looked up at her, took the pipe from between her teeth and blew out a rank smelling ring of smoke. Then she cackled, then she winked, and then she stood up and curtsied. "Ah," she cried, "so here's the silly princess who couldn't hold on to her prince! But tell me now, are you sure you want him back again? For to be sure, if you're silly, then he's a fool or else he never would have got you both into this pickle.'
The white bear's wife thought for a moment, considering the truth and the consequences of what the old woman had said. Then she answered; 'It is true that, if I had known then what I know now, I might not have done what I have done. And it is true that if my husband had not done as he has done, then he might not be where he is now. But ifs are made of candy-floss and might bes are made of moonshine; all I want now is to know the road to the castle that lies east of the moon and west of the sun, so that I can go and get him back again, for if he is a fool, he is my fool, and if I am silly, then it is with him that my silliness is most at ease. Please, can you tell me the way?"
Well, the old woman cackled again, but in a more friendly tone, this time. 'Ah, my dear," she said; "you may have a little more sense than I gave you credit for. Now, I do not know where this castle is, but if you go and ask my elder sister, she may be able to help you. All you have to do is to follow the bird, for he knows the way." With that, the old woman turned into her cabin, and cooked up a bowl of porridge, to help the young wife on her way. After they both had eaten, the young wife rose to her feet, and thanked her hostess, making ready to be on her way. However, the old woman laid one hand upon her sleeve, and with the other, reached up into the walnut tree and plucked a single nut. Then she said; "Here, my love. You must take this as a gift from me. Keep it by you, and do not open it until you come to the castle east of the moon and west of the sun, for there you may find that you need it." The young wife thanked her, took the nut, and put it in her pocket. Then she heard the little bird screech, and turned to follow him out into the forest.
She wandered for many days through the forest, eating nuts and berries, and sleeping under the trees. Ever she would follow the bird, as it flitted from tree to tree, until at last they came to a second cabin, that looked very much like the first, except that it was even older and more decrepit. Sitting on a stool outside the door was a woman who looked to be even older than the first, with two teeth in her head, and a pipe jammed between them. Once again, the bird alighted on her shoulders, and once again, the old woman took the pipe from between her teeth, and blew out a great stinking ring of smoke. Then she cackled, then she winked, then she stood up and curtsied. "Ah," she cried, "so here's the silly princess who couldn't hold on to her prince! But tell me now, are you sure you want him back again? For to be sure, if you're silly, then he's a fool or else he never would have got you both into this pickle.'
The white bear's bride had been thinking things over as she walked through the forest, but for the life of her, she could come up with no other answer than the one she had given to the crone's younger sister. So she repeated; 'It is true that, if I had known then what I know now, I might not have done what I have done. And it is true that if my husband had not done as he has done, then he might not be where he is now. But ifs are made of candy-floss and might bes are made of moonshine; all I want now is to know the road to the castle that lies east of the moon and west of the sun, so that I can go and get him back again, for if he is a fool, he is my fool, and if I am silly, then it is with him that my silliness is most at ease. Please, can you tell me the way?"
Once again, the old woman seemed to be satisfied with this reply, and like her sister, she offered the white bear's bride a meal. Then she told her that although she did not know the whereabouts of the castle that was east of the moon and west of the sun herself, her elder sister might, and that if the young woman would follow the little bird once again, he would take her to her sister's abode. "And now, ' she said, "before you go, there is a gift I would be giving you." And like her sister, she reached up into the walnut tree that grew beside her cabin, and took down one single walnut. "Here," she said, "keep this about your person, and do not open it until you come to the castle that is east of the moon and west of the sun, for then you may find that you have need of it." The white bear's wife thanked her, and set out once again to follow the bird through the forest.
As before, she wandered for days, eating nuts and berries, and sleeping under the trees, until she came to yet another ramshackle cabin, beneath a walnut tree. Sitting in the doorway was a woman who looked even older than her two sisters, and in her mouth there was nothing but the blackened stump of one tooth, and although she had no pipe, when the bird alighted on her shoulder, and she looked up to see who was approaching, she blew out a large stinking ring of smoke. Then she cackled, then she winked, then she stood up and curtsied. "Ah," she cried, "so here's the silly princess who couldn't hold on to her prince! But tell me now, are you certain that you want him back again? For to be sure, if you're silly, then he's a fool or else he never would have got you both into this pickle.'
Now the white bear's bride had been thinking this over as she wandered through the forest, but still she could find no other answer than the one that she had given to the first and to the second old crones, and so she replied; 'It is true that, if I had known then what I know now, I might not have done what I have done. And it is true that if my husband had not done as he has done, then he might not be where he is now. But ifs are made of candy-floss and might bes are made of moonshine; all I want now is to know the road to the castle that lies east of the moon and west of the sun, so that I can go and get him back again, for if he is a fool, he is my fool, and if I am silly, then it is with him that my silliness is most at ease. Please, can you tell me the way?"
The old woman looked at her, her head on one side, as if she were herself the bird that was perched upon her shoulder, and she said; "Is that the best you can come up with then? Well, you are young and you do not know the world as I know it, and there's no use in my telling you about it, because you would not believe me if I did. But tell me now, is it the bear that you love or the prince?" The white bear's bride had also been wondering about this as she made her way through the forest, so she did not take long to make up her mind to her reply; "Old lady, I love the man that is in the bear, and I love the bear that the man is in. I married them both, and I want them both, but if I can't have the one, then I shall take the other, for either would be better than the empty space that is in my heart while I am so far from him."
The old woman nodded, as if this was the answer that she had expected, and then she said "I cannot tell you where the castle itself is, but I can tell you that to find it, you must first go and ask the east wind. Now the bird will take you to the wind, but when you have found it, you must send the bird back to me, for otherwise, your quest will end in grief. Now sit down, while a cook you a meal, for you will be needing something inside your belly." So the young woman sat down, and the old woman cooked a meal, and when they had eaten, she reached up into the tree above the cabin and picked just one walnut, giving it to the white bear's bride and warning her not to lose it, or to open it until she should come to the castle that lay east of the moon and west of the sun.
So the white bear's bride set out once again, following the little bird as it flew from tree to tree, eating nuts and berries, and sleeping under the trees, until she came to the very end of the world. And there she spied the east wind, so she waved a last good-bye to the bird, and went and sat upon a rock and waited for the wind to notice her. At last, the wind, which had been busy blowing the leaves off tress and fluffing up the crests of the waves, turned to her and asked her what she was doing, waiting upon a rock in this wild and lonely place. So she told him all her story, from the very beginning, and then asked him if he knew where the castle was that was east of the moon and west of the sun.
The east wind thought about this for a while, and then he said; "It is lucky for you, young woman, that I know your sister, for it was I that carried her away that day, and she told me of the proud beauty that would not marry the white bear, even though her brothers were dying of cold, and her sisters were wasting to nothing in front of her eyes. She was glad to come with me, and to take the burden off your father's back a little, even though she regretted not having the time to say good-bye. But now, I suppose you are not so proud as you were then, and for your sister's sake I will take you, for I loved her well. So hop on my back, and I will take you to my brother, the west wind, for he may know where your castle is to be found."
The white bear's wife answered nothing, for she was a little ashamed of herself when she remembered the pride that had been hers before the bear took her to be his bride. She climbed upon the east wind's back, and away they soared, across the seas and across the lands, until they came to the end of the world. There the east wind let her climb off his back, and she thanked him for his kindness, and then perched herself upon a rock until the west wind should notice her, for he was busy rattling the eaves and the shutters of the houses, and blowing up waves upon the ocean. But finally, he looked down and saw her there, and asked her what her business was and why she was waiting upon a rock in this cold and lonely place.
So the young woman told her story, from the beginning to the end, and then she asked him if he knew where the castle was, that lay east of the moon and west of the sun. Well, the west wind pondered for a moment, and then he said; "It is lucky for you that I know your sister, for my brother, the east wind brought her to me, because, although he loved her well, he could not bring a smile to her poor sad face. She told me how it was that you were too proud to take the white bear to be your husband, even though your brothers were dying of cold and your sisters were wasting away to nothing in front of your eyes. I suppose that you are not so proud now as you were then, and for your sister's sake, because I loved her well, I will take you to my brother, the south wind, who may indeed know where the castle is that you seek. Climb onto my back, and we shall be off."
Now, once again, the white bear's wife answered nothing, for she was indeed ashamed when she thought of the sad life that her sister must be living. On the back of the west wind, she travelled over the oceans and over the continents, until she came to the end of the world, where the wind set her down. She thanked him, then sat upon a rock waiting for the south wind to notice her, for he was busy blowing sandstorms up in the desert and cracking the wild waves against the tumbling cliffs. But after a while, he looked down, and when he saw her, he asked her what she was doing, waiting in such a bleak and desolate place.
Once again, the white bear's wife told her story; the wind pondered for a moment, and then he said ; "It is lucky for you that I know your sister, for my brother, the west wind brought her to me, because, although he loved her well, he could not bring a smile to her poor sad face. She told me how it was that you were too proud to take the white bear to be your husband, even though your brothers were dying of cold and your sisters were wasting away to nothing in front of your eyes. I suppose that you are not so proud now as you were then, and for your sister's sake, because I loved her well, I will take you to my brother, the north wind, who may indeed know where the castle is that you seek. Climb onto my back, and we shall be off."
Well, what could the young woman say. she hung her head, thinking of the hard life that her sister must be leading, and wishing that she had done many things that she had not done, and that she had not done many things that she had done. Nevertheless, she climbed upon the back of the South wind, travelling over oceans and continents, until once again, she came to the end of the world. She looked around her, to see that she was surrounded by cold and icy mountains and that icicles hung from the very clouds. After thanking the South wind for his kindness, she stood upon the freezing rocks, and waited for the North wind to finish blowing the roofs off houses, and battering ships to their graves in the wild wild sea. Finally, he noticed her, and stopped what he was doing for a moment, giving some respite to the shivering householders and the terrified mariners. Once again, she explained her errand, telling her story from beginning to end. The North wind listened, and then he let out a short laugh, which emerged as an icy breeze which froze the air around her head and turned her ears first pink and then blue.
"Well," he said, "I have a surprise for you. Step upon my back and meet my wife, for I think you know her!" Well, of course, who should the wife of the North wind be but the long lost sister. She greeted the white bear's bride joyfully, and said that she should take no notice of what the east wind, the west wind and the south wind had said about her, for it was indeed a strange thing to ask of a young girl to marry a bear. Moreover, if the bear's bride had married the bear straight away, then she, the wife of the North wind, would never have met her husband, so really all was well that ended well. Then she told her that her husband did know where the castle was that was east of the moon and west of the moon, for, she said proudly, he was the strongest of the four winds, and he had been over the whole world, from one corner to the other.
So the North wind flexed his mighty muscles, and carried the two sisters across the oceans and across the continents, and as they flew, his wife told her sister that they had been to the very castle to which he was taking her not long ago. There was a beautiful young prince there, with hair as black as the night, the nose of an eagle and eyes so blue that they looked like the winter sky. He lived in the castle with an old lady, who some believed to be an ogress, and her daughter; very soon, he was to marry the daughter. When the white bear's wife heard this, she knew that she would need all her courage and all her wits if she was to win her husband back again. She felt in her pocket, and she found the three walnuts and she gripped them tight in her hands.
At last, they arrived at a long, golden beach, and above the beach there was a tall, golden castle, with spires that seemed to reach to the very sky. The wind set his wife and his sister down upon the sand, and then said that he would return for them whenever his wife should call, but that now he was very busy, for there were houses to destroy, ships to sink and cliffs to crumble into the sea. With that, he was off, howling across the oceans and the continents, and his wife watched him on his way with a fond smile and the trace of a tear about her eye.
"Now," she said, "I will give you all the help that I can, for I have been given certain powers by my husband. I can float upon the air, and waft wherever I will, and I am so thin, that if I do not wish to be seen, then I will not. But in the main, this is your task, and you must do it as you see fit."
It was evening time, and the sky was full of stars. The white bear's wife sat beneath the castle walls, and she thought and she listened. After a while, she heard a voice, and she looked up. A young woman was sitting at a window, looking out over the sea, and as she gazed at the waves, she sang a song.
In three short days, 'tis my wedding day By the stars that shine on the sea. If I had a gown made of those stars Then I know my love would love me
The white bear's wife picked one of the walnuts from her pocket and looked at it thoughtfully. Then she closed her eyes tight, and sent her thoughts and her mind winging back the way she had come, upon the backs of the winds and following the bird through the forest, back to the third cabin, with the oldest woman with only one tooth, and then back to the second cabin, where the old woman had two teeth, and then back again to the first cabin in which lived the old woman with the three teeth, and she looked down upon the woman, who looked back up at her, and winked one eye, and cackled and curtsied, just as she had done on the day that first she saw her. Then the young woman opened the first walnut, reached into it and slowly teased out a gown of finest cotton, the colours of which shimmered like the stars in the sky, and it was full of the light of the stars. She put the dress on, and it fit her as if it had been made for her, which, of course, it had, and then she walked upon the sand, and she walked in the full view of the young woman who was sitting in the window.
"Who are you, that walk thus upon the sands in the light of the stars?" called down the young woman. The bear's wife looked up and saw a face the beauty of which mirrored her own, but while she was dark, the other was fair, and while her face was an open book, the face of the other was a closed mystery. She called up to the face at the window, "I heard your song, and thought that you would wish to see the dress."
"Give it to me," said the girl at the window, "for I am to be married to the most beautiful man in the world, and I would wear that gown for my wedding day."
"I will give it to you, if you will let me pass the night with your husband to be."
The fair woman in the window laughed, and said to her, "Come on up. I will go to him and tell him to expect you." But while the bear's wife was hurrying up towards the castle, and waiting for the gate to open, the bride-to-be went to her fiancé with a cup full of wine, and told him that it was a nightcap, to help him sleep through the night before the night before the night before the night they would be wed. The prince took, the cup, and drank the wine, and soon it was clear that the fair girl had said nothing but the truth, for he fell into a deep sleep. So when the bear's wife had given the gown that was the colour of the stars to her rival, and entered the room, she found that she could not wake her husband, or speak to him to remind him of the things he had forgotten. So she kissed him once upon his red red lips, and lay down beside him, to spend a last night with the man who had been the white bear.
In the morning, she left the castle, and went to find her sister, who was blowing ripples upon the water as it washed up upon the sand. "Listen, my beloved sister," said the North wind's wife, "I suspect that the young woman and her mother are up to some tricks. I will see what I can see." Light as a leaf upon the autumn wind, the young woman rose up in the air, and wafted over the castle, turning herself this way and that, so that anyone who might have looked in her direction could never be sure of what he saw. She floated down into the castle, and crept through the many chambers, until she came to an inner bedroom, where the fair young woman was talking to her mother.
The mother was tall, and slender, and as beautiful as her daughter, but her hair was the colour of flame, and her eyes were as green as emeralds. There was danger for all but the boldest men in the tilt of her chin, and in her smile there was a threat and a promise. "Well, my daughter," she was saying, "I hope you know what you are doing, for you know as well as I do who this young woman is."
"Yes mother," the daughter answered, "but with the magic that we have woven around him, he has forgotten all about her."
"Ah," said her mother, "that is easy, for what man will not forget an old flame when he has two new ones, each as beautiful as we are. But if he sees her again, he will remember, and if he remembers, you will surely lose him, for she wants him far more than you do, and she will fight the harder."
"Mother, he did not see her, and he could not see her, for I gave him a drink that made him sleep the whole night through. Tonight I shall give him another, and the night after that, I shall give him yet another. Then it will be our wedding day, and he will be mine."
Then the North wind's wife slipped out of the castle, and went to tell her sister all that she had heard. The bear's wife sat by the shore, and she lost herself in thought. The night fell, and this night there were no stars, for the moon was as full as a moon can be, and shone upon the sea, the sand and upon the castle. After a while, the bear's wife heard a voice, coming from the castle, and she looked up, and she saw her rival, sitting at the window again, and singing a song
In two short days, 'tis my wedding day By the moon that shines on the sea If I had a gown made of the light of the moon Then I know my love would love me
Once again, the bear's wife reached into her pocket, and took out the second walnut. Then she closed her eyes tight, and sent her thoughts and her mind winging back the way she had come, upon the backs of the winds and following the bird through the forest, back to the third cabin, with the oldest woman with only one tooth, and then back to the second cabin, where the old woman had two teeth, and she looked down upon the woman, who looked back up at her, and winked one eye, and cackled and curtsied, just as she had done on the day that first she saw her. Then the young woman opened the second walnut, reached into it and slowly teased out a gown of finest satin, the colours of which shimmered like the moon in the sky, and it was full of the light of the moon. She put the dress on, and it fit her as if it had been made for her, which, of course, it had, and then she walked upon the sand, and she walked in the full view of the young woman who was sitting in the window.
"Who are you, that walk thus upon the sands in the light of the stars?" called down the young woman.
The bear's wife looked up and called to the face at the window, "I heard your song, and thought that you would wish to see the dress."
"Give it to me," said the girl at the window, "for I am to be married to the most beautiful man in the world, and I would wear that gown for my wedding day."
"I will give it to you, if you will let me pass a second night with your husband to be."
The fair woman in the window laughed, and said to her, "Come on up. I will go to him and tell him to expect you."
But as before, while the bear's wife was hurrying up towards the castle, and waiting for the gate to open, the bride-to-be went to fetch her fiancé a cup full of wine. The North wind's wife intending to forewarn the prince, floated up into the air, but just as she crossed the battlements, the fiancées mother saw her, and with a laugh blew her back over the sea, twisting and turning like a leaf in an autumn gale. The young woman brought the wine to the prince and told him that it was a nightcap, to help him sleep through the night before the night before the night they would be wed. The prince took, the cup, and drank the wine, and soon it was clear that the fair girl had said nothing but the truth, for he fell into a deep sleep. So when the bear's wife had given the gown that was the colour of the moon to her rival, and entered the room, she found that she could not wake her husband, or speak to him to remind him of the things he had forgotten. So she kissed him once upon his red red lips, and lay down beside him, to spend a last night with the man who had been the white bear. In the morning, she found her sister sitting by the sea, blowing the water into angry wavelets.
"Ah, said the North wind's wife, "I have not been with my dear husband long enough to learn how to command the breezes and the bluster, for if I had, that woman would never have had the better of me, and I would have warned your husband not to drink the wine. And now, through my foolishness and vanity, you have lost him forever."
"Sister, dear sister, listen to me," said the white bear's bride. "We should never give up until we are sure we have truly lost. I will not abandon hope before I have seen them in each others arms on their wedding night, and I know that he has truly, truly forgotten me. For remember what the red-headed witch said.? If ever he should see me, he is mine."
So the two sisters waited through the long long day. The sun was close to the horizon, blood red and golden, when the bear's wife heard her rival's voice again. Once more she was singing a song :
In two short days, 'tis my wedding day By the sun that shines on the sea If I had a gown made of the light of the sun Then I know my love would love me.
The white bear's wife smiled to herself, and this time she was sure of what she must do. She plunged her hand into her pocket, and pulled out the last walnut. Without pausing to think, or to send her mind and her thoughts back to the third old woman, she cracked open the nut, and drew out, inch by inch, the most beautiful gown that has ever been seen upon the face of the earth. It was of the finest Chinese silk, and it held the colours of the setting sun in every stitch. She put the gown on, and it fitted her as if it had been made for her, which it had, and she danced upon the sand, the light of the sun and the light of her dress reflecting back the one from the other, until the waves of the sea did not know from where they should be sending their sparkling iridescence. As she danced, the bear's wife heard a gasp from the window, and she looked up to see her rival looking down at her with envy in her eyes. Neither of them spoke, for each knew what the other wanted. Dancing slowly across the sand, the white bear's wife made towards the castle gate.
Her sister, seeing what was happening, opened up her heart, and silently called to her husband. Then she turned towards the castle, floating up into the air like a feather rising in the heat. As she drew over the battlements, she saw that the red-headed woman was waiting for her, but this time, as the witch puffed up her cheeks, the wild North-wind caught her by her heavy skirts and sent her billowing into the sky. She turned to grapple with him, and witch and wind were carried, struggling the one with the other, over the stormy sea. Turning her back upon the sight, the North wind's wife floated through the castle's corridors, until she came to the prince's room. There she did not make herself visible, but whispered her message in his ear, barely seconds before the fair young woman entered with her nightly potion.
"Take this," she said, ' and it will help you to sleep through the night before the night that we are wed."
He smiled, and thanked her, but he heard a small voice that seemed to come from inside his head, warning him not to take the offered drink. As soon as his betrothed's back was turned, he tipped the contents of the cup out of the window, and lay upon the bed to see what would be. Some ten minutes later, after giving the gown the colour of the sun to her rival, the white bear's wife slipped into his room, and then into his bed. You can imagine her joy when she discovered that her husband was awake. As for him, no sooner did he see her face above his own, as she leaned to kiss him once again upon his red red lips, than the spell of forgetfulness fell from his mind, and he recognized his proud and wilful wife.
The next day, the fair young woman woke to find her mother gone. This did not prevent her from going ahead with the wedding preparations, for she was determined that today she would be married. She chivvied the kitchen staff, she berated the waiters, she pestered the priest until the hour came when the great bell struck, and her prince walked from his chamber into the court-yard of the castle. At the very same moment, the North wind, somewhat out of breath, but looking very pleased with himself, deposited the bride's mother, looking a little flustered but with a merry eye, on the castle battlements. The prince looked at his bride-to-be, and looked at his mother-in-law to be, and they were so beautiful, that for a moment, he forgot his resolve, but as he glanced once more towards his wife, his spirits cleared, and he stepped forward, holding in his arms a folded nightgown.
"Listen, my dear ladies," he said, "if I am to be married, I wish to be sure that I will have a good wife. Therefore, I will give my hand to no woman who cannot wash the three drops of wax from off this nightgown." The bride-to-be looked at her mother, who flicked a contemptuous eye-brow. The young woman turned towards the prince, and looked him in the eye. "If you think," she said, "that I would marry a prince so as to do his washing, you had better think again." Then she shrugged her shoulders and turned away, biting her lip, because, after all, he was such a very pretty young man.
The prince turned towards the dark young woman, who stepped forward in her turn, looking up at the fair one's mother, who flicked her eye-brow yet again and pursed her lips. "If you think," said the dark one, "that I would marry a white bear so as to do his washing, you had better think again." The prince looked abashed, and stepped back. "However," she continued, "I do recognize those three drops of wax as my own doing, and so I will not refuse to wash them from your nightgown.' And she took it from his hands, and held it up to the light. "But you can damn well iron it yourself," she murmured, so that only he could hear.
With that, she walked from the castle, down to the sea and lay the nightgown in the waves. She took three walnut shells from her pocket, and scraped the wax away from the gown, shook it out and the North wind carried it up far into the air, where the heat of the sun dried it out. The wind returned it to his sister-in-law, who gave it to her husband, and so as not to waste the wedding feast, they got married all over again.
The next day, the north wind took his wife, and her sister, and her husband upon his back, and carried them back to the miller's house. The wind had given a rendezvous to his brothers there, and the south wind, which was warm and dry after a trip across the desert, thawed out the frozen brother, who was overjoyed to be returned to his brothers and his sisters. And three of the sisters married the South wind, the West wind and the East wind, while the sixth stayed home and looked after her father, and played havoc with the hearts of the young men of the village, until the mothers and fathers wished that another bear would come and take her away as well. As for the sons, they married the fair young woman in the castle east of the moon and west of the sun, and a hard but merry time of it she gave them.
As for the red-headed witch, well, I do believe that whenever the North wind had it in mind to take a change from his wise, but rather leafy wife, he would off and romp with her for a day or two, for they had come to something of an understanding during their tussle for the prince's heart. As to the bird and the three old women, I don't know what happened to them, for they were never seen or heard of again. But sometimes, the red-headed witch opens wide her emerald green eyes, pouts her lips and blows out a perfect ring of foul-smelling smoke. And then she winks. But no-one has ever heard her cackle and I do not think that she curtsies to anyone.
