Once on a time, there was a king who had become a widower. By his queen he had one daughter, who was so clever and lovely, there wasn’t a cleverer or lovelier princess in all the world. So the king went on a long time sorrowing for the queen, whom he had loved so much, but at last he got weary of living alone, and married another queen, who was a widow, and had, too, an only daughter; but this daughter was just as bad and ugly as the other was kind, and clever, and lovely. The stepmother and her daughter were jealous of the princess, because she was so lovely; but so long as the king was at home they dare not do her any harm, he was so fond of her.
Well, after a time he fell into war with another king, and went out to battle with his host, and then the stepmother thought she might do as she pleased; and so she both starved and beat the princess, and was after her in every hole and corner of the house. At last she thought everything too good for her, and turned her out to herd cattle. So there she went about with the cattle, and herded them in the woods and on the fells. As for food, she got little or none, and she grew thin and wan, and was always sobbing and sorrowful. Now in the herd there was a great dun bull, which always kept himself so neat and sleek, and often and often he came up to the princess, and let her pat him. So one day when she sat there, sad, and sobbing, and sorrowful, he came up to her and asked her outright why she was always in such grief. She answered nothing, but went on weeping.
“Ah!” said the bull, “I know all about it quite Well, though you won’t tell me; you weep because the queen is bad to you, and because she is ready to starve you to death. But food you’ve no need to fret about, for in my left ear lies a cloth, and when you take and spread it out, you may have as many dishes as you please.”
So she did that, took the cloth and spread it out on the grass, and lo! it served up the nicest dishes one could wish to have; there was wine too, and mead, and sweet cake. Well, she soon got up her flesh again, and grew so plump, and rosy, and white, that the queen and her scrawny chip of a daughter turned blue and yellow for spite. The queen couldn’t at all make out how her stepdaughter got to look so Well on such bad fare, so she told one of her maids to go after her in the wood, and watch and see how it all was, for she thought some of the servants in the house must give her food. So the maid went after her, and watched in the wood, and then she saw how the stepdaughter took the cloth out of the bull’s ear, and spread it out, and how it served up the nicest dishes, which the stepdaughter ate and made good cheer over. All this the maid told the queen when she went home.
And now the king came home from war, and had won the fight against the other king with whom he went out to battle. So there was great joy throughout the palace, and no one was gladder than the king’s daughter. But the queen shammed sick, and took to her bed, and paid the doctor a great fee to get him to say she could never be Well again unless she had some of the dun bull’s flesh to eat. Both the king’s daughter and the folk in the palace asked the doctor if nothing else would help her, and prayed hard for the bull, for everyone was fond of him, and they all said there wasn’t that bull’s match in all the land. But no; he must and should be slaughtered, nothing else would do. When the king’s daughter heard that, she got very sorrowful, and went down into the byre to the bull. There, too, he stood and hung down his head, and looked so downcast that she began to weep over him.
“What are you weeping for?” asked the bull.
So she told him how the king had come home again, and how the queen had shammed sick and got the doctor to say she could never be Well and sound again unless she got some of the Dun bull’s flesh to eat, and so now he was to be slaughtered.
At night, when all had gone to bed, the princess stole down to the byre to the bull, and so he took her on his back, and set off from the homestead as fast as ever he could. And when the folk got up at cockcrow next morning to slaughter the bull, why, he was gone; and when the king got up and asked for his daughter, she was gone too. He sent out messengers on all sides to hunt for them, and gave them out in all the parish churches; but there was no one who had caught a glimpse of them. Meanwhile, the bull went through many lands with the king’s daughter on his back, and so one day they came to a great copper-wood, where both the trees, and branches, and leaves, and flowers, and everything, were nothing but copper.
No, bless her, she’d be sure to take care not to touch anything. Well, she was very careful, and leant this way and that to miss the boughs, and put them gently aside with her hands; but it was such a thick wood, ’twas scarce possible to get through; and so, with all her pains, somehow or other she tore off a leaf, which she held in her hand.
“It’s just as much mine as yours,” said the bull.
“As you choose,” said the bull.
So they rushed at one another, and fought; and the bull he butted, and gored, and kicked with all his might and main; but the troll gave him as good as he brought, and it lasted the whole day before the bull got the mastery; and then he was so full of wounds, and so worn out, he could scarce lift a leg. Then they were forced to stay there a day to rest, and then the bull bade the king’s daughter to take the horn of ointment which hung at the troll’s belt, and rub him with it. Then he came to himself again, and the day after they trudged on again. So they travelled many, many days, till, after a long, long time, they came to a silver wood, where both the trees, and branches, and leaves, and flowers, and everything, were silvern.
“Now, when we get into this wood, for heaven’s sake mind you take good care; you mustn’t touch anything, and not pluck off so much as one leaf, else it is all over both with me and you; for here is a troll with six heads who owns it, and him I don’t think I should be able to master.”
But when they got into the wood, it was so close and thick, they could scarce get along. She was as careful as careful could be, and leant to this side and that to miss the boughs, and put them on one side with her hands, but every minute the branches struck her across the eyes, and, in spite of all her pains, it so happened she tore off a leaf. “AU! AU! what have you done now?” said the bull. “There’s nothing for it now but to fight for life and death, for this troll has six heads, and is twice as strong as the other, but mind you keep the leaf safe, and don’t lose it.”
“As you choose,” said the bull, and rushed at the troll, and gored out his eyes, and drove his horns right through his body, so that the entrails gushed out; but the troll was almost a match for him, and it lasted three whole days before the bull got the life gored out of him. But then he, too, was so weak and wretched, it was as much as he could do to stir a limb, and so full of wounds, that the blood streamed from him. So he said to the king’s daughter she must take the horn of ointment that hung at the troll’s belt, and rub him with it. Then she did that, and he came to himself; but they were forced to stay there a week to rest before the bull had strength enough to go on.
At last they set off again, but the bull was still poorly, and they went rather slow at first. So to spare time the king’s daughter said as she was young and light of foot, she could very Well walk, but she couldn’t get leave to do that. No; she must seat herself up on his back again. So on they travelled through many lands a long time, and the king’s daughter did not know in the least where they went; but after a long, long time they came to a gold wood. It was so grand, the gold dropped from every twig, and all the trees, and boughs, and flowers, and leaves, were of pure gold. Here, too, the same thing happened as had happened in the silver wood and copper wood. The bull told the king’s daughter she mustn’t touch it for anything, for there was a troll with nine heads who owned it, and he was much bigger and stouter than both the others put together, and he didn’t think he could get the better of him. No; she’d be sure to take heed not to touch it; that he might know very Well. But when they got into the wood, it was far thicker and closer than the silver wood, and the deeper they went into it the worse it got. The wood went on getting thicker and thicker, and closer and closer; and at last she thought there was no way at all to get through it. She was in such an awful fright of plucking off anything, that she sat, and twisted and turned herself this way and that, and here and there, to keep clear of the boughs, and she put them on one side with her hands; but every moment the branches struck her across the eyes, so that she couldn’t see what she was clutching at; and lo! before she knew how it came about, she had a gold apple in her hand. Then she was so bitterly sorry she burst into tears and wanted to throw it away; but the bull said she must keep it safe and watch it Well, and comforted her as Well as he could; but he thought it would be a hard tussle, and he doubted how it would go.
“WHO IS THIS THAT TOUCHES MY wood?” he roared.
“It’s just as much mine as yours,” said the bull.
“Just as you choose,” said the bull; and so they rushed at one another, and fought, and it was such a dreadful sight the king’s daughter was ready to swoon away. The bull gored out the troll’s eyes, and drove his horns through and through his body, till the entrails came tumbling out; but the troll fought bravely; and when the bull got one head gored to death, the rest breathed life into it again, and so it lasted a whole week before the bull was able to get the life out of them all. But then he was utterly worn out and wretched. He couldn’t stir a foot, and his body was all one wound. He couldn’t so much as ask the king’s daughter to take the horn of ointment which hung at the troll’s belt, and rub it over him. But she did it all the same, and then he came to himself by little and little; but they had to lie there and rest three weeks before he was fit to go on again.
“Do you see anything?” asked the bull.
So when they clomb higher up, the fell got smoother, and they could see farther off.
“Do you see anything now?” asked the bull.
After a long, long time, they came to a great cairn, where there was a spur of the fell that stood sheer across the way.
“Do you see anything now?” asked the bull.
“There you’re to go,” said the bull. “Right underneath the castle is a pig sty, where you are to dwell. When you come there you’ll find a wooden cloak, all made of strips of lath; that you must put on, and go up to the castle and say your name is ‘Katie Woodencloak,’ and ask for a place. But before you go, you must take your penknife and cut my head off, and then you must flay me, and roll up the hide, and lay it under the wall of rock yonder, and under the hide you must lay the copper leaf, and the silver leaf, and the golden apple. Yonder, up against the rock, stands a stick; and when you want anything, you’ve only got to knock on the wall of rock with that stick.”
At first she wouldn’t do anything of the kind; but when the bull said it was the only thanks he would have for what he had done for her, she couldn’t help herself. So, however much it grieved her heart, she hacked and cut away with her knife at the big beast till she got both his head and his hide off, and then she laid the hide up under the wall of rock, and put the copper leaf, and the silvern leaf, and the golden apple inside it.
So when she had done that, she went over to the pig sty, but all the while she went she sobbed and wept. There she put on the wooden cloak, and so went up to the palace. When she came into the kitchen she begged for a place, and told them her name was Katie Woodencloak. Yes, the cook said she might have a place – she might have leave to be there in the scullery, and wash up, for the lassie who did that work before had just gone away.
“But as soon as you get weary of being here, you’ll go your way too, I’ll be bound.”
No; she was sure she wouldn’t do that.
So there she was, behaving so Well, and washing up so handily. The Sunday after there were to be strange guests at the palace, so Katie asked if she might have leave to carry up water for the prince’s bath; but all the rest laughed at her, and said:
“Pray, who are you?”
“Oh, I was just going to bring up water for your Royal Highness’s bath,” said Katie.
So she had to put up with that, but then she asked leave to go to church; Well, she got that leave too, for the church lay close by. But first of all she went to the rock, and knocked on its face with the stick which stood there, just as the bull had said. And straightway out came a man, who said:
“What’s your will?”
So the princess said she had got leave to go to church and hear the priest preach, but she had no clothes to go in. So he brought out a kirtle, which was as bright as the copper wood, and she got a horse and saddle beside. Now, when she got to the church, she was so lovely and grand, all wondered who she could be, and scarce one of them listened to what the priest said, for they looked too much at her. As for the prince, he fell so deep in love with her, he didn’t take his eyes off her for a single moment.
So, as she went out of church, the prince ran after her, and held the church door open for her; and so he got hold of one of her gloves, which was caught in the door. When she went away and mounted her horse, the prince went up to her again, and asked from where she came.
“Oh, I’m from Bath,” said Katie; and while the prince took out the glove to give it to her, she said,
The prince had never seen the like of that glove, and went about far and wide asking after the land from where the proud lady, who rode off without her glove, said she came; but there was no one who could tell where “Bath” lay.
Next Sunday some one had to go up to the prince with a towel.
“Oh, may I have leave to go up with it?” said Katie.
“What’s the good of your going?” said the others; “you saw how it fared with you last time.”
But Katie wouldn’t give in; she kept on begging and praying, till she got leave; and then she ran up the stairs, so that her wooden cloak made a great clatter. Out came the prince, and when he saw it was Katie, he tore the towel out of her hand, and threw it into her face.
After that the prince set off to church, and Katie begged for leave to go too. They all asked what business she had at church – she who had nothing to put on but that wooden cloak, which was so black and ugly. But Katie said the priest was such a brave man to preach, what he said did her so much good; and so at last she got leave. Now she went again to the rock and knocked, and so out came the man, and gave her a kirtle far finer than the first one; it was all covered with silver, and it shone like the silver wood; and she got besides a noble steed, with a saddle-cloth broidered with silver, and a silver bit.
So when the king’s daughter got to the church, the folk were still standing about in the churchyard. And all wondered and wondered who she could be, and the prince was soon on the spot, and came and wished to hold her horse for her while she got off. But she jumped down, and said there was no need, for her horse was so Well broke, it stood still when she bade it, and came when she called it. So they all went into church, but there was scarce a soul that listened to what the priest said, for they looked at her a deal too much; and the prince fell still deeper in love than the first time.
So away she was again; and the prince couldn’t tell what had become of her. He went about far and wide, asking after the land from where she said she came, but there was no one who could tell him where it lay; and so the prince had to make the best he could of it.
Next Sunday some one had to go up to the prince with a comb. Katie begged for leave to go up with it, but the others put her in mind how she had fared the last time, and scolded her for wishing to go before the prince – such a black and ugly fright as she was in her wooden cloak. But she wouldn’t leave off asking till they let her go up to the prince with his comb. So, when she came clattering up the stairs again, out came the prince, and took the comb, and threw it at her, and bade her be off as fast as she could. After that the prince went to church, and Katie begged for leave to go too. They asked again what business she had there, she who was so foul and black, and who had no clothes to show herself in. might be the prince or some one else would see her, and then both she and all the others would smart for it; but Katie said they had something else to do than to look at her; and she wouldn’t leave off begging and praying till they gave her leave to go.
So the same thing happened now as had happened twice before. She went to the rock and knocked with the stick, and then the man came out and gave her a kirtle which was far grander than either of the others. It was almost all pure gold, and studded with diamonds; and she got besides a noble steed, with a gold broidered saddle-cloth and a golden bit.
Now when the king’s daughter got to the church, there stood the priest and all the people in the churchyard waiting for her. Up came the prince running, and wanted to hold her horse, but she jumped off, and said:
So they all hastened into church, and the priest got into the pulpit, but no one listened to a word he said; for they all looked too much at her, and wondered from where she came; and the prince, he was far deeper in love than either of the former times. He had no eyes, or ears, or sense for anything, but just to sit and stare at her.
So when the sermon was over, and the king’s daughter was to go out of the church, the prince had got a firkin of pitch poured out in the porch, that he might come and help her over it; but she didn’t care a bit – she just put her foot right down into the midst of the pitch, and jumped across it; but then one of her golden shoes stuck fast in it, and as she got on her horse, up came the prince running out of the church and asked from where she came.
So the prince couldn’t tell still what had become of her, and he went about a weary time all over the world asking for “Combland;” but when no one could tell him where it lay, he ordered it to be given out everywhere that he would wed the woman whose foot could fit the gold shoe.
So many came of all sorts from all sides, fair and ugly alike; but there was no one who had so small a foot as to be able to get on the gold shoe. And after a long, long time, who should come but Katie’s wicked stepmother, and her daughter, too, and her the gold shoe fitted; but ugly she was, and so loathly she looked, the prince only kept his word sore against his will. Still they got ready the wedding feast, and she was dressed up and decked out as a bride; but as they rode to church, a little bird sat on a tree and sang,
“A bit off her heel,
And a bit off her toe;
Katie Woodencloak’s tiny shoe
Is full of blood – that’s all I know.”
“Katie!” he bawled out through the door; and Katie came trampling up-stairs, and her wooden cloak clattered as if a whole regiment of dragoons were charging up.
So Katie took up the shoe, and put her foot into it like nothing, and threw off her wooden cloak; and so there she stood in her gold kirtle, and it shone so that the sunbeams glistened from her; and, lo! on her other foot she had the fellow to the gold shoe.
So when the prince knew her again, he grew so glad, he ran up to her and threw his arms round her, and gave her a kiss; and when he heard she was a king’s daughter, he got gladder still, and then came the wedding-feast; and so
“Snip, snip, mover,
The story’s over.”