The Second Part of the Advent Riddle: Where Does This Witch Come From?
Behind the mountains, between lakes and marshes, the people tell this fairy tale – but in what country? (Illustration: Andreas Lechner)
10 December 2012
The second candle is lit, the tenth little door is open – time for a new fairy tale riddle: Where did this story originate? If you can tell us, you will be getting post from that very country.
Pilipka, Our Little Son
There were once a man and his wife who longed for a child in vain. The woman wailed, “I have no one to rock in the cradle, no one I can love with my whole heart.” One day, the man went into the forest, hewed a piece of wood from the trunk of an alder tree, brought it home and said to the woman, “Now you have something to rock.” The woman laid the log in the cradle and began to rock it to sleep, singing “Little son, rock-a-bye, you are white of body and dark of eye…” When she looked into the cradle on the third day, she did not see an alder log, but a baby boy lying there. The husband and wife were overjoyed and named their little son Pilipka.
When Pilipka was a bigger, he said to his father, “Dear father, build me a golden boat with a silver paddle, I want to go fishing on the lake.” The father did as he was bidden and let his son go out on the lake to fish. Pilipka enjoyed it so very much that he did not even want to go home for supper. Instead, his mother brought food to him at the lake. Every time she came to the shore, she called, “Pilipka, my son, the day is half done, and here is a pie for you to try!” And Pilipka paddled his boat to the shore, gave his mother the fish, ate up the pie and paddled back out onto the lake.
The evil witch heard the mother speaking to her son, became angry and decided to kill Pilipka. She took a sack and a poker, went to the lake and called “Pilipka, my son, the day is half done, and here is a pie for you to try!” When Pilipka heard her, he answered, “No, you are not my mother. My mother has a much sweeter voice.” “Well, well,” the witch said to herself, “then I will get myself a sweeter voice.”
She went to the blacksmith, who told her to lay her tongue on the anvil. And he hammered at her tongue until it was very thin and the witch’s voice became very sweet. She went back to the lake and called again, “Pilipka, my son, the day is half done, and here is a pie for you to try!”
Pilipka paddled across the lake and when he got closer, the witch hooked his boat with her poker and pulled it to shore, seized Pilipka and put him in her sack. “You won’t be catching fish anymore from the lake,” she cried, threw the sack over her shoulder and carried it to her hut.
When she arrived at the hut, she opened the sack and said to her daughter, “Heat up the oven and roast this scoundrel! Make sure he is done about noon!” The daughter heated up the oven, got the bread shovel and said to Pilipka, “Lie on the shovel, I want to push you into the oven.” Pilipka laid himself on the shovel with his legs sticking up in the air. “I can’t put you in the oven like that,” the witch’s daughter scolded him. “How shall I lie on the shovel then?” asked Pilipka. “Show me!” “What a stupid boy,” the witch’s daughter cried, laid herself on the bread shovel and stretched out. Pilipka thrust the shovel into the oven and bolted the latch. Just as he was leaving the hut, he saw the evil witch coming and quickly Pilipka climbed up a maple tree in the yard and hid himself in its dense leaves.
The witch entered the hut and sniffed. She pulled the roast from the oven, and ate her fill of the meat, threw the bones on the ground in the yard and began dancing on them. “On these bones I did fall-fall, o'er these bones I will roll-roll, for I have eaten of Pilipka’s flesh.” Then Pilipka called from the tree, “On these bones you did fall-fall, o'er these bones you will roll-roll, but you have eaten your daughter’s flesh.”
When the witch heard that, she became enraged. She grabbed an axe and began chopping at the trunk of the maple tree until the tree began to sway. Pilipka realized that he was in trouble. A flock of geese flew overhead and he called to them, "Geese, geese, do not screech, drop me down a feather each, to my mother and father I will fly with you, and there I will pay for your service true!” The geese each dropped him one feather. Pilipka fashioned himself a pair of wings and flew after the geese. The witch kept chopping at the maple until – crash! – it fell over right on top of the witch and crushed her.
When Pilipka arrived home with the geese, his parents were overjoyed to have their little son back again! They gave him food and drink. And they gave the geese a trough full of oats.
There were once a man and his wife who longed for a child in vain. The woman wailed, “I have no one to rock in the cradle, no one I can love with my whole heart.” One day, the man went into the forest, hewed a piece of wood from the trunk of an alder tree, brought it home and said to the woman, “Now you have something to rock.” The woman laid the log in the cradle and began to rock it to sleep, singing “Little son, rock-a-bye, you are white of body and dark of eye…” When she looked into the cradle on the third day, she did not see an alder log, but a baby boy lying there. The husband and wife were overjoyed and named their little son Pilipka.
When Pilipka was a bigger, he said to his father, “Dear father, build me a golden boat with a silver paddle, I want to go fishing on the lake.” The father did as he was bidden and let his son go out on the lake to fish. Pilipka enjoyed it so very much that he did not even want to go home for supper. Instead, his mother brought food to him at the lake. Every time she came to the shore, she called, “Pilipka, my son, the day is half done, and here is a pie for you to try!” And Pilipka paddled his boat to the shore, gave his mother the fish, ate up the pie and paddled back out onto the lake.
The evil witch heard the mother speaking to her son, became angry and decided to kill Pilipka. She took a sack and a poker, went to the lake and called “Pilipka, my son, the day is half done, and here is a pie for you to try!” When Pilipka heard her, he answered, “No, you are not my mother. My mother has a much sweeter voice.” “Well, well,” the witch said to herself, “then I will get myself a sweeter voice.”
She went to the blacksmith, who told her to lay her tongue on the anvil. And he hammered at her tongue until it was very thin and the witch’s voice became very sweet. She went back to the lake and called again, “Pilipka, my son, the day is half done, and here is a pie for you to try!”
Pilipka paddled across the lake and when he got closer, the witch hooked his boat with her poker and pulled it to shore, seized Pilipka and put him in her sack. “You won’t be catching fish anymore from the lake,” she cried, threw the sack over her shoulder and carried it to her hut.
When she arrived at the hut, she opened the sack and said to her daughter, “Heat up the oven and roast this scoundrel! Make sure he is done about noon!” The daughter heated up the oven, got the bread shovel and said to Pilipka, “Lie on the shovel, I want to push you into the oven.” Pilipka laid himself on the shovel with his legs sticking up in the air. “I can’t put you in the oven like that,” the witch’s daughter scolded him. “How shall I lie on the shovel then?” asked Pilipka. “Show me!” “What a stupid boy,” the witch’s daughter cried, laid herself on the bread shovel and stretched out. Pilipka thrust the shovel into the oven and bolted the latch. Just as he was leaving the hut, he saw the evil witch coming and quickly Pilipka climbed up a maple tree in the yard and hid himself in its dense leaves.
The witch entered the hut and sniffed. She pulled the roast from the oven, and ate her fill of the meat, threw the bones on the ground in the yard and began dancing on them. “On these bones I did fall-fall, o'er these bones I will roll-roll, for I have eaten of Pilipka’s flesh.” Then Pilipka called from the tree, “On these bones you did fall-fall, o'er these bones you will roll-roll, but you have eaten your daughter’s flesh.”
When the witch heard that, she became enraged. She grabbed an axe and began chopping at the trunk of the maple tree until the tree began to sway. Pilipka realized that he was in trouble. A flock of geese flew overhead and he called to them, "Geese, geese, do not screech, drop me down a feather each, to my mother and father I will fly with you, and there I will pay for your service true!” The geese each dropped him one feather. Pilipka fashioned himself a pair of wings and flew after the geese. The witch kept chopping at the maple until – crash! – it fell over right on top of the witch and crushed her.
When Pilipka arrived home with the geese, his parents were overjoyed to have their little son back again! They gave him food and drink. And they gave the geese a trough full of oats.
You will find out the solution next Monday. Until then you can submit your answer. Incidentally, the country we are searching for celebrates Christmas twice. The Catholic population on 25 December, and the Orthodox on 7 January. But the gifts are brought by Grandfather Frost and the Snow Maiden. And lucky for you, we didn’t ask the name of the lake Pilipka fishes in, for there are over 10,000 lakes in his country.
Speaking of water: the fairy tale from the fire-breathing island we told you last week came from Sicily. Of course, we also honoured Italy as a response. Everyone who knew or guessed the answer will receive a Christmas card from there – written by language learners at the Goethe-Institut. This time, you will also get personalized post; not from an island, but from an inland country.
Well, where did goose feathers save Pilipka from the bad witch?
This riddle is already ended. The correct answer was: Belarus. The devious witch, by the way, is named Baba Yaga and sometimes Baba Roga and is one of the best-known creatures of Slavic mythology. The tale was retold to us by Julija Knysch and Galina Skakun.
To find the next fairy tale from our Advent Riddle, click here.
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