Petru did not know what to do. He listened in silence for the most part, but now and then he would say, `Yes, yes, you must have been badly treated,’ just for politeness’ sake; what more could he do?
`I will give you a task to perform, for you are brave, and will carry it through,’ continued Venus, when she had talked a long time, and both of them were getting sleepy. `Close to the Fairy’s house is a well, and whoever drinks from it will blossom again like a rose. Bring me a flagon of it, and I will do anything to prove my gratitude. It is not easy! no one knows that better than I do! The kingdom is guarded on every side by wild beasts and horrible dragons; but I will tell you more about that, and I also have something to give you.’
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Then she rose and lifted the lid of an iron-bound chest, and took out of it a very tiny flute.
`Do you see this?’ she asked. `An old man gave it to me when I was young: whoever listens to this flute goes to sleep, and nothing can wake him. Take it and play on it as long as you remain in the kingdom of the Fairy of the Dawn, and you will be safe.
At this, Petru told her that he had another task to fulfil at the well of the Fairy of the Dawn, and Venus was still better pleased when she heard his tale.
So Petru bade her good-night, put the flute in its case, and laid himself down in the lowest chamber to sleep.
Before the dawn he was awake again, and his first care was to give to each of his horses as much corn as he could eat, and then to lead them to the well to water. Then he dressed himself and made ready to start.
`Stop,’ cried Venus from her window, `I have still a piece of advice to give you. Leave one of your horses here, and only take three. Ride slowly till you get to the fairy’s kingdom, then dismount and go on foot. When you return, see that all your three horses remain on the road, while you walk. But above all beware never to look the Fairy of the Dawn in the face, for she has eyes that will bewitch you, and glances that will befool you. She is hideous, more hideous than anything you can imagine, with owl’s eyes, foxy face, and cat’s claws. Do you hear? do you hear? Be sure you never look at her.’
Petru thanked her, and managed to get off at last.
Far, far away, where the heavens touch the earth, where the stars kiss the flowers, a soft red light was seen, such as the sky sometimes has in spring, only lovelier, more wonderful.
That light was behind the palace of the Fairy of the Dawn, and it took Petru two days and nights through flowery meadows to reach it. And besides, it was
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neither hot nor cold, bright nor dark, but something of them all, and Petru did not find the way a step too long.
After some time Petru saw something white rise up out of the red of the sky, and when he drew nearer he saw it was a castle, and so splendid that his eyes were dazzled when they looked at it. He did not know there was such a beautiful castle in the world.
But no time was to be lost, so he shook himself, jumped down from his horse, and, leaving him on the dewy grass, began to play on his flute as he walked along.
He had hardly gone many steps when he stumbled over a huge giant, who had been lulled to sleep by the music. This was one of the guards of the castle! As he lay there on his back, he seemed so big that in spite of Petru’s haste he stopped to measure him.
The further went Petru, the more strange and terrible were the sights he saw — lions, tigers, dragons with seven heads, all stretched out in the sun fast asleep. It is needless to say what the dragons were like, for nowadays everyone knows, and dragons are not things to joke about. Petru ran through them like the wind. Was it haste or fear that spurred him on?
At last he came to a river, but let nobody think for a moment that this river was like other rivers? Instead of water, there flowed milk, and the bottom was of precious stones and pearls, instead of sand and pebbles. And it ran neither fast nor slow, but both fast and slow together. And the river flowed round the castle, and on its banks slept lions with iron teeth and claws; and beyond were gardens such as only the Fairy of the Dawn can have, and on the flowers slept a fairy! All this saw Petru from the other side.
But how was he to get over? To be sure there was a bridge, but, even if it had not been guarded by sleeping lions, it was plainly not meant for man to walk on. Who
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could tell what it was made of? It looked like soft little woolly clouds!
So he stood thinking what was to be done, for get across he must. After a while, he determined to take the
PETRU WAKES THE GIANT UP}
risk, and strode back to the sleeping giant. `Wake up, my brave man!’ he cried, giving him a shake.
The giant woke and stretched out his hand to pick up Petru, just as we should catch a fly. But Petru played
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on his flute, and the giant fell back again. Petru tried this three times, and when he was satisfied that the giant was really in his power he took out a handkerchief, bound the two little fingers of the giant together, drew his sword, and cried for the fourth time, `Wake up, my brave man.’
When the giant saw the trick which had been played on him he said to Petru. `Do you call this a fair fight? Fight according to rules, if you really are a hero!’
`I will by-and-by, but first I want to ask you a question! Will you swear that you will carry me over the river if I fight honourably with you?’ And the giant swore.
When his hands were freed, the giant flung himself upon Petru, hoping to crush him by his weight. But he had met his match. It was not yesterday, nor the day before, that Petru had fought his first battle, and he bore himself bravely.
For three days and three nights the battle raged, and sometimes one had the upper hand, and sometimes the other, till at length they both lay struggling on the ground, but Petru was on top, with the point of his sword at the giant’s throat.
`Let me go! let me go!’ shrieked he. `I own that I am beaten!’
`Will you take me over the river?’ asked Petru.
`I will,’ gasped the giant.
`What shall I do to you if you break your word?’
`Kill me, any way you like! But let me live now.’
`Very well,’ said Petru, and he bound the giant’s left hand to his right foot, tied one handkerchief round his mouth to prevent him crying out, and another round his eyes, and led him to the river.
Once they had reached the bank he stretched one leg over to the other side, and, catching up Petru in the palm of his hand, set him down on the further shore.
`That is all right,’ said Petru. Then he played a few
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notes on his flute, and the giant went to sleep again. Even the fairies who had been bathing a little lower down heard the music and fell asleep among the flowers on the bank. Petru saw them as he passed, and thought, `If they are so beautiful, why should the Fairy of the Dawn be so ugly?’ But he dared not linger, and pushed on.
And now he was in the wonderful gardens, which seemed more wonderful still than they had done from afar. But Petru could see no faded flowers, nor any birds, as he hastened through them to the castle. No one was there to bar his way, for all were asleep. Even the leaves had ceased to move.
He passed through the courtyard, and entered the castle itself.
What he beheld there need not be told, for all the world knows that the palace of the Fairy of the Dawn is no ordinary place. Gold and precious stones were as common as wood with us, and the stables where the horses of the sun were kept were more splendid than the palace of the greatest emperor in the world.