the golden bough-第229节

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cious　stone；　and　if　this　stone　were　put　under　his　pillow　he　would　die。　The　prince　procured　the　stone；　and　the　princess　laid　it　under　the　magician's　pillow。　No　sooner　did　the　enchanter　lay　his　head　on　the　pillow　than　he　gave　three　terrible　yells；　turned　himself　round　and　round　three　times；　and　died。

Stories　of　the　same　sort　are　current　among　Slavonic　peoples。　Thus　a　Russian　story　tells　how　a　warlock　called　Koshchei　the　Deathless　carried　off　a　princess　and　kept　her　prisoner　in　his　golden　castle。　However；　a　prince　made　up　to　her　one　day　as　she　was　walking　alone　and　disconsolate　in　the　castle　garden；　and　cheered　by　the　prospect　of　escaping　with　him　she　went　to　the　warlock　and　coaxed　him　with　false　and　flattering　words；　saying；　My　dearest　friend；　tell　me；　I　pray　you；　will　you　never　die？　Certainly　not；　says　he。　Well；　says　she；　and　where　is　your　death？　is　it　in　your　dwelling？　To　be　sure　it　is；　says　he；　it　is　in　the　broom　under　the　threshold。　Thereupon　the　princess　seized　the　broom　and　threw　it　on　the　fire；　but　although　the　broom　burned；　the　deathless　Koshchei　remained　alive；　indeed　not　so　much　as　a　hair　of　him　was　singed。　Balked　in　her　first　attempt；　the　artful　hussy　pouted　and　said；　You　do　not　love　me　true；　for　you　have　not　told　me　where　your　death　is；　yet　I　am　not　angry；　but　love　you　with　all　my　heart。　With　these　fawning　words　she　besought　the　warlock　to　tell　her　truly　where　his　death　was。　So　he　laughed　and　said；　Why　do　you　wish　to　know？　Well　then；　out　of　love　I　will　tell　you　where　it　lies。　In　a　certain　field　there　stand　three　green　oaks；　and　under　the　roots　of　the　largest　oak　is　a　worm；　and　if　ever　this　worm　is　found　and　crushed；　that　instant　I　shall　die。　When　the　princess　heard　these　words；　she　went　straight　to　her　lover　and　told　him　all；　and　he　searched　till　he　found　the　oaks　and　dug　up　the　worm　and　crushed　it。　Then　he　hurried　to　the　warlock's　castle；　but　only　to　learn　from　the　princess　that　the　warlock　was　still　alive。　Then　she　fell　to　wheedling　and　coaxing　Koshchei　once　more；　and　this　time；　overcome　by　her　wiles；　he　opened　his　heart　to　her　and　told　her　the　truth。　My　death；　said　he；　is　far　from　here　and　hard　to　find；　on　the　wide　ocean。　In　that　sea　is　an　island；　and　on　the　island　there　grows　a　green　oak；　and　beneath　the　oak　is　an　iron　chest；　and　in　the　chest　is　a　small　basket；　and　in　the　basket　is　a　hare；　and　in　the　hare　is　a　duck；　and　in　the　duck　is　an　egg；　and　he　who　finds　the　egg　and　breaks　it；　kills　me　at　the　same　time。　The　prince　naturally　procured　the　fateful　egg　and　with　it　in　his　hands　he　confronted　the　deathless　warlock。　The　monster　would　have　killed　him；　but　the　prince　began　to　squeeze　the　egg。　At　that　the　warlock　shrieked　with　pain；　and　turning　to　the　false　princess；　who　stood　by　smirking　and　smiling；　Was　it　not　out　of　love　for　you；　said　he；　that　I　told　you　where　my　death　was？　And　is　this　the　return　you　make　to　me？　With　that　he　grabbed　at　his　sword；　which　hung　from　a　peg　on　the　wall；　but　before　he　could　reach　it；　the　prince　had　crushed　the　egg；　and　sure　enough　the　deathless　warlock　found　his　death　at　the　same　moment。　In　one　of　the　descriptions　of　Koshchei's　death；　he　is　said　to　be　killed　by　a　blow　on　the　forehead　inflicted　by　the　mysterious　eggthat　last　link　in　the　magic　chain　by　which　his　life　is　darkly　bound。　In　another　version　of　the　same　story；　but　told　of　a　snake；　the　fatal　blow　is　struck　by　a　small　stone　found　in　the　yolk　of　an　egg；　which　is　inside　a　duck；　which　is　inside　a　hare；　which　is　inside　a　stone；　which　is　on　an　island。

Amongst　peoples　of　the　Teutonic　stock　stories　of　the　external　soul　are　not　wanting。　In　a　tale　told　by　the　Saxons　of　Transylvania　it　is　said　that　a　young　man　shot　at　a　witch　again　and　again。　The　bullets　went　clean　through　her　but　did　her　no　harm；　and　she　only　laughed　and　mocked　at　him。　Silly　earthworm；　she　cried；　shoot　as　much　as　you　like。　It　does　me　no　harm。　For　know　that　my　life　resides　not　in　me　but　far；　far　away。　In　a　mountain　is　a　pond；　on　the　pond　swims　a　duck；　in　the　duck　is　an　egg；　in　the　egg　burns　a　light；　that　light　is　my　life。　If　you　could　put　out　that　light；　my　life　would　be　at　an　end。　But　that　can　never；　never　be。　However；　the　young　man　got　hold　of　the　egg；　smashed　it；　and　put　out　the　light；　and　with　it　the　witch's　life　went　out　also。　In　a　German　story　a　cannibal　called　Body　without　Soul　or　Soulless　keeps　his　soul　in　a　box；　which　stands　on　a　rock　in　the　middle　of　the　Red　Sea。　A　soldier　gets　possession　of　the　box　and　goes　with　it　to　Soulless；　who　begs　the　soldier　to　give　him　back　his　soul。　But　the　soldier　opens　the　box；　takes　out　the　soul；　and　flings　it　backward　over　his　head。　At　the　same　moment　the　cannibal　drops　dead　to　the　ground。

In　another　German　story　and　old　warlock　lives　with　a　damsel　all　alone　in　the　midst　of　a　vast　and　gloomy　wood。　She　fears　that　being　old　he　may　die　and　leave　her　alone　in　the　forest。　But　he　reassures　her。　Dear　child；　he　said；　I　cannot　die；　and　I　have　no　heart　in　my　breast。　But　she　importuned　him　to　tell　her　where　his　heart　was。　So　he　said；　Far；　far　from　here　in　an　unknown　and　lonesome　land　stands　a　great　church。　The　church　is　well　secured　with　iron　doors；　and　round　about　it　flows　a　broad　deep　moat。　In　the　church　flies　a　bird　and　in　the　bird　is　my　heart。　So　long　as　the　bird　lives；　I　live。　It　cannot　die　of　itself；　and　no　one　can　catch　it；　therefore　I　cannot　die；　and　you　need　have　no　anxiety。　However　the　young　man；　whose　bride　the　damsel　was　to　have　been　before　the　warlock　spirited　her　away；　contrived　to　reach　the　church　and　catch　the　bird。　He　brought　it　to　the　damsel；　who　stowed　him　and　it　away　under　the　warlock's　bed。　Soon　the　old　warlock　came　home。　He　was　ailing；　and　said　so。　The　girl　wept　and　said；　Alas；　daddy　is　dying；　he　has　a　heart　in　his　breast　after　all。　Child；　replied　the　warlock；　hold　your　tongue。　I　can't　die。　It　will　soon　pass　over。　At　that　the　young　man　under　the　bed　gave　the　bird　a　gentle　squeeze；　and　as　he　did　so；　the　old　warlock　felt　very　unwell　and　sat　down。　Then　the　young　man　gripped　the　bird　tighter；　and　the　warlock　fell　senseless　from　his　chair。　Now　squeeze　him　dead；　cried　the　damsel。　Her　lover　obeyed；　and　when　the　bird　was　dead；　the　old　warlock　also　lay　dead　on　the　floor。

In　the　Norse　tale　of　the　giant　who　had　no　heart　in　his　body；　the　giant　tells　the　captive　princess；　Far；　far　away　in　a　lake　lies　an　island；　on　that　island　stands　a　church；　in　that　church　is　a　well；　in　that　well　swims　a　duck；　in　that　duck　there　is　an　egg；　and　in　that　egg　there　lies　my　heart。　The　hero　of　the　tale；　with　the　help　of　some　animals　to　whom　he　had　been　kind；　obtains　the　egg　and　squeezes　it；　at　which　the　giant　screams　piteously　and　begs　for　his　life。　But　the　hero　breaks　the　egg　in　pieces　and　the　giant　at　once　bursts。　In　another　Norse　story　a　hill…ogre　tells　the　captive　princess　that　she　will　never　be　able　to　return　home　unless　she　finds　the　grain　of　sand　which　lies　under　the　ninth　tongue　of　the　ninth　head　of　a　certain　dragon；　but　if　that　grain　of　sand　were　to　come　over　the　rock　in　which　the　ogres　live；　they　would　all　burst　and　the　rock　itself　would　become　a　gilded　palace；　and　the　lake　green　meadows。　The　hero　finds　the　grain　of　sand　and　takes　it　to　the　top　of　the　high　rock　in　which　the　ogres　live。　So　all　the　ogres　burst　and　the　rest　falls　out　as　one　of　the　ogres　had　foretold。

In　a　Celtic　tale；　recorded　in　the　West　Highlands　of　Scotland；　a　giant　is　questioned　by　a　captive　queen　as　to　where　he　keeps　his　soul。　At　last；　after　deceiving　her　several　times；　he　confides　to　her　the　fatal　secret：　There　is　a　great　flagstone　under　the　threshold。　There　is　a　wether　under　the　flag。　There　is　a　duck　in　the　wether's　belly；　and　an　egg　in　the　belly　of　the　duck；　and　it　is　in　the　egg　that　my　soul　is。　On　the　morrow　when　the　giant　was　gone；　the　queen　contrived　to　get　possession　of　the　egg　and　crushed　it　in　her　hands；　and　at　that　very　moment　the　giant；　who　was　coming　home　in　the　dusk；　fell　down　dead。　In　another　Celtic　tale；　a　sea　beast　has　carried　off　a　king's　daughter；　and　an　old　smith　declares　that　there　is　no　way　of　killing　the　beast　but　one。　In　the　island　that　is　in　the　midst　of　the　loch　is　Eillid　Chaisfhionthe　white…footed　hind；　of　the　slenderest　legs；　and　the　swiftest　step；　and　though　she　should　be　caught；　there　would　spring　a　hoodie　out　of　her；　and　though　the　hoodie　should　be　caught；　there　would　spring　a　trout　out　of　her；　but　there　is　an　egg　in　the　mouth　of　the　trout；　and　the　soul　of　the　beast　is　in　the　egg；　and　if　the　egg　breaks；　the　beast　is　dead。　As　usual　the　egg　is　broken　and　the　beast　dies。

In　an　Irish　story　we　read　how　a　giant　kept　a　beautiful　damsel　a　prisoner　in　his　castle　on　the　top　of　a　hill；　which　was　white　with　the　bones　of　the　champions　who　had　tried　in　vain　to　rescue　the　fair　captive。　At　last　the　hero；　after　hewing　and　slashing　at　the　giant　all　to　no　purpose；　discovered　that　the　only　way　to　kill　him　was　to　rub　a　mole　on　the　giant's　right　breast　with　a　certain　egg；　which　was　in　a　duck；　which　was　in　a　chest；　which　lay　locked　and　bound　at　the　bottom　of　the　sea。　With　the　help　of　some　obliging　animals；　the　hero　made　himself　master　of　the　precious　egg　and　slew　the　giant　by　merely　striking　it　against　the　mole　on　his　right　breast。　Similarly　in　a　Breton　story　there　figures　a　giant　whom　neither　fire　nor　water　nor　steel　can　harm。　He　tells　his　seventh　wife；　whom　he　has