Inuyasha Fairy Tales

Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife

And his two children. The boy was called Shippou and the

girl Rin. He had little to bite and to break, and once when

great dearth fell on the land, he could no longer procure even daily

bread. Now when he thought over this by night in his bed, and

tossed about in his anxiety, he groaned and said to his wife, what

is to become of us. How are we to feed our poor children, when

we no longer have anything even for ourselves. I'll tell you what,

husband, answered the woman, early to-morrow morning we

will take the children out into the forest to where it is the

thickest. There we will light a fire for them, and give each of

them one more piece of bread, and then we will go to our work and

leave them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we

shall be rid of them. No, wife, said the man, I will not do that.

How can I bear to leave my children alone in the forest. The wild

animals would soon come and tear them to pieces. O' you fool, said

she, then we must all four die of hunger, you may as well plane the

planks for our coffins, and she left him no peace until he

consented. But I feel very sorry for the poor children, all the

same, said the man.

The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger, and

had heard what their step-mother had said to their father. Rin

wept bitter tears, and said to Shippou, now all is over with us.

Be quiet, Rin, said Shippou, do not distress yourself, I will soon

find a way to help us. And when the old folks had fallen asleep,

he got up, put on his little coat, opened the door below, and crept

outside. The moon shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay

in front of the house glittered like real silver pennies. Shippou

stooped and stuffed the little pocket of his coat with as many as he

could get in. Then he went back and said to Rin, be comforted,

dear little sister, and sleep in peace, God will not forsake us, and

he lay down again in his bed. When day dawned, but before the

sun had risen, the woman came and awoke the two children, saying

get up, you sluggards. We are going into the forest to fetch

wood. She gave each a little piece of bread, and said, there is

something for your dinner, but do not eat it up before then, for you

will get nothing else. Rin took the bread under her apron, as

Shippou had the pebbles in his pocket. Then they all set out

together on the way to the forest. When they had walked a short

time, Shippou stood still and peeped back at the house, and did so

again and again. His father said, Shippou, what are you looking at

there and staying behind for. Pay attention, and do not forget how

to use your legs. Ah, father, said Shippou, I am looking at my

little white cat, which is sitting up on the roof, and wants to say

good-bye to me. The wife said, fool, that is not your little cat,

that is the morning sun which is shining on the chimneys. SHippou,

however, had not been looking back at the cat, but had been

constantly throwing one of the white pebble-stones out of his pocket

on the road.

When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said,

now, children, pile up some wood, and I will light a fire that you

may not be cold. Shippou and Rin gathered brushwood together,

as high as a little hill. The brushwood was lighted, and when the

flames were burning very high, the woman said, now, children,

lay yourselves down by the fire and rest, we will go into the forest

and cut some wood. When we have done, we will come back and

fetch you away.

Shippou and Rin sat by the fire, and when noon came, each ate

a little piece of bread, and as they heard the strokes of the

wood-axe they believed that their father was near. It was not the

axe, however, but a branch which he had fastened to a withered tree

which the wind was blowing backwards and forwards. And as they had

been sitting such a long time, their eyes closed with fatigue, and

they fell fast asleep. When at last they awoke, it was already dark

night. Rin began to cry and said, how are we to get out of the

forest now. But Shippou comforted her and said, just wait a little,

until the moon has risen, and then we will soon find the way. And

when the full moon had risen, Shippou took his little sister by the

hand, and followed the pebbles which shone like newly-coined silver

pieces, and showed them the way.

They walked the whole night long, and by break of day came

once more to their father's house. They knocked at the door, and

when the woman opened it and saw that it was Shippou and Rin,

she said, you naughty children, why have you slept so long in the

forest. We thought you were never coming back at all. The father,

however, rejoiced, for it had cut him to the heart to leave them

behind alone.

Not long afterwards, there was once more great dearth throughout

the land, and the children heard their mother saying at night to

their father, everything is eaten again, we have one half loaf left,

and that is the end. The children must go, we will take them

farther into the wood, so that they will not find their way out

again. There is no other means of saving ourselves. The man's

heart was heavy, and he thought, it would be better for you to share

the last mouthful with your children. The woman, however, would

listen to nothing that he had to say, but scolded and reproached

him. He who says a must say b, likewise, and as he had yielded the

first time, he had to do so a second time also.

The children, however, were still awake and had heard the

conversation. When the old folks were asleep, Shippou again got up,

and wanted to go out and pick up pebbles as he had done before, but

the woman had locked the door, and Shippou could not get out.

Nevertheless he comforted his little sister, and said, do not cry,

Rin, go to sleep quietly, the good God will help us.

Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of

their beds. Their piece of bread was given to them, but it was

still smaller than the time before. On the way into the forest

Shippou crumbled his in his pocket, and often stood still and threw a

morsel on the ground. Shippou, why do you stop and look round.

Said the father, go on. I am looking back at my little pigeon

which is sitting on the roof, and wants to say good-bye to me,

answered Shippou. Fool. Said the woman, that is not your little

pigeon, that is the morning sun that is shining on the chimney.

Shippou, however, little by little, threw all the crumbs on the path.

The woman led the children still deeper into the forest, where they

had never in their lives been before. Then a great fire was again

made, and the mother said, just sit there, you children, and when

you are tired you may sleep a little. We are going into the forest

to cut wood, and in the evening when we are done, we will come and

fetch you away. When it was noon, Rin shared her piece of

bread with Shippou, who had scattered his by the way. Then they

fell asleep and evening passed, but no one came to the poor

children. They did not awake until it was dark night, and Shippou

comforted his little sister and said, just wait, Rin, until the

moon rises, and then we shall see the crumbs of bread which I have

strewn about, they will show us our way home again. When the moon

came they set out, but they found no crumbs, for the many thousands

of birds which fly about in the woods and fields had picked them all

up. Shippou said to Rin, we shall soon find the way, but they did

not find it. They walked the whole night and all the next day too

from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the forest,

and were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but two or three

berries, which grew on the ground. And as they were so weary that

their legs would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree

and fell asleep.

It was now three mornings since they had left their father's house.

They began to walk again, but they always came deeper into the

forest, and if help did not come soon, they must die of hunger and

weariness. When it was mid-day, they saw a beautiful snow-white

bird sitting on a bough, which sang so delightfully that they stood

still and listened to it. And when its song was over, it spread its

wings and flew away before them, and they followed it until they

reached a little house, on the roof of which it alighted. And when

they approached the little house they saw that it was built of

bread and covered with cakes, but that the windows were of clear

sugar. We will set to work on that, said Shippou, and have a good

meal. I will eat a bit of the roof, and you rin, can eat some

of the window, it will taste sweet. shippou reached up above, and

broke off a little of the roof to try how it tasted, and Gretel

leant against the window and nibbled at the panes. Then a soft

voice cried from the parlor -

nibble, nibble, gnaw

who is nibbling at my little house.

The children answered -

the wind, the wind,

the heaven-born wind,

and went on eating without disturbing themselves. Shippou, who

liked the taste of the roof, tore down a great piece of it, and

Rin pushed out the whole of one round window-pane, sat down, and

enjoyed herself with it. Suddenly the door opened, and a woman

as old as the hills, who supported herself on crutches, came

creeping out. Shippou and Rin were so terribly frightened that

they let fall what they had in their hands. The old woman, however,

nodded her head, and said, oh, you dear children, who has brought

you here. Do come in, and stay with me. No harm shall happen to

you. She took them both by the hand, and led them into her little

house. Then good food was set before them, milk and pancakes,

with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterwards two pretty little beds

were covered with clean white linen, and Shippou and rin lay down

in them, and thought they were in heaven.

The old woman had only pretended to be so kind. She was in reality

a wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had only built the

little house of bread in order to entice them there. When a child

fell into her power, she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that

was a feast day with her. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see

far, but they have a keen scent like the beasts, and are aware when

human beings draw near. When Shippou and rin came into her

neighborhood, she laughed with malice, and said mockingly, I have

them, they shall not escape me again. Early in the morning before

the children were awake, she was already up, and when she saw both

of them sleeping and looking so pretty, with their plump and rosy

cheeks, she muttered to herself, that will be a dainty mouthful.

Then she seized Shippou with her shrivelled hand, carried

him into a little stable, and locked him in behind a grated door.

Scream as he might, it would not help him. Then she went to

Rin, shook her till she awoke, and cried, get up, lazy thing,

fetch some water, and cook something good for your brother, he is

in the stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I

will eat him. Gretel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in

vain, for she was forced to do what the wicked witch commanded.

And now the best food was cooked for poor Shippou, but Rin

got nothing but crab-shells. Every morning the woman crept to the

little stable, and cried, Shippou, stretch out your finger that I may

feel if you will soon be fat. Shippou, however, stretched out a

little bone to her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could not

see it, and thought it was Shippou's finger, and was astonished that

there was no way of fattening him. When four weeks had gone by,

and Shippou still remained thin, she was seized with impatience and

would not wait any longer. Now, then, Rin, she cried to the

girl, stir yourself, and bring some water. Let Shippou be fat or

lean, to-morrow I will kill him, and cook him. Ah, how the poor

little sister did lament when she had to fetch the water, and how

her tears did flow down her cheeks. Dear God, do help us, she

cried. If the wild beasts in the forest had but devoured us, we

should at any rate have died together. Just keep your noise to

yourself, said the old woman, it won't help you at all.

Early in the morning, rin had to go out and hang up the

cauldron with the water, and light the fire. We will bake first,

said the old woman, I have already heated the oven, and kneaded

the dough. She pushed poor Rin out to the oven, from which

flames of fire were already darting. Creep in, said the witch,

and see if it properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.

And once Rin was inside, she intended to shut the oven and let

her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too. But Rin saw

what she had in mind, and said, I do not know how I am to do it.

How do I get in. Silly goose, said the old woman, the door is big

enough. Just look, I can get in myself, and she crept up and

thrust her head into the oven. Then Rin gave her a push that

drove her far into it, and shut the iron door, and fastened the

bolt. Oh. Then she began to howl quite horribly, but Rin ran

away, and the godless witch was miserably burnt to death.

Rin, however, ran like lightning to Shippou, opened his little

stable, and cried, Shippou, we are saved. The old witch is dead.

Then Shippou sprang like a bird from its cage when the door is

opened. How they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance

about and kiss each other. And as they had no longer any need to

fear her, they went into the witch's house, and in every corner

there stood chests full of pearls and jewels. These are far better

than pebbles. Said Shippou, and thrust into his pockets whatever

could be got in, and Rin said, I, too, will take something home

with me, and filled her pinafore full. But now we must be off, said

Hansel, that we may get out of the witch's forest.

When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great

stretch of water. We cannot cross, said Shippou, I see no

foot-plank, and no bridge. And there is also no ferry, answered

Gretel, but a white duck is swimming there. If I ask her, she

will help us over. Then she cried -

little duck, little duck, dost thou see,

Hansel and Gretel are waiting for thee.

There's never a plank, or bridge in sight,

take us across on thy back so white.

The duck came to them, and Shippou seated himself on its back,

and told his sister to sit by him. No, replied Rin, that will be

too heavy for the little duck. She shall take us across, one after

the other. The good little duck did so, and when they were once

safely across and had walked for a short time, the forest seemed to

be more and more familiar to them, and at length they saw from

afar their father's house. Then they began to run, rushed into the

parlor, and threw themselves round their father's neck. The man

had not known one happy hour since he had left the children in the

forest. The woman, however, was dead. Rin emptied her

pinafore until pearls and precious stones ran about the room, and

Shippou threw one handful after another out of his pocket to add to

Them. Then all anxiety was at an end, and they lived together in

Perfect happiness. My tale is done, there runs a mouse, whosoever

Catches it, may make himself a big fur cap out of it.


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