Folklore of Kürse Village (8): Fairy Tales

Fairy Tales

I shall endeavour to transcribe the fairy tales I have collected as faithfully as possible to the narrators’ manner of speech. I say ‘as much as possible’ because it is a well-known fact that it is impossible to reproduce every sound found in folk speech. Of the fairy tales I recorded, I have only attempted to adapt to standard Turkish those words that were so unusual that their meaning could not be grasped at first glance. Apart from this, the fairy tales are generally presented in the narrators’ original style.

Fatmacık and Üsencik

Once upon a time, there were many of God’s creatures. When camels were town criers and fleas were barbers, whilst I was rocking my father’s cradle back and forth, my mother made stuffed vine leaves; I snatched one from the pot, and my mother took a piece of bread in her hand. I slipped out through the keyhole and ran away. I ran and ran, and when I turned to look back, I’d only gone a barley’s length…

Anyway, let’s get back to our tale: Once upon a time, in a certain village, there lived a man. One day, the man’s wife died, leaving him with a daughter and a son. The man remarried. That woman also had a daughter. She looked after her own daughter very well, but paid no attention to the man’s daughter. She went down to the barn with the child, and the ox was by her side. She was cleaning the ox’s stall. One day, when they went down to the barn to tend to the animals, one of the oxen spoke. It said to the children: ‘Look at my horns.’ From one of the ox’s horns, oil flowed, and from the other, honey. As the boy and the ox’s horns were so full of milk and honey that they were practically overflowing, the woman’s daughter could not bear to see those children. The children, on the other hand, had turned out very well. Naturally, the wife couldn’t bear this either. One day, the wife had made some dough; she’d spread a cloth over it, and the dough itself had risen, so she lay down on top of it. She’d turn from side to side, and next to her husband, she’d groan, ‘My bones are breaking.’ ‘Can you hear that cracking sound?’ she said. ‘My bones are breaking because I didn’t want Üsencik and Fatmacı. If you get rid of them, it’ll sort itself out,’ she said. What could the man do? He was a bit of a simpleton; he drove the oxen off and told the children, ‘Come on, let’s go and get some firewood.’ He puts two little girls in the cart and takes them up the hill. When they reach the hill, he says, ‘Go on, you lot, pick some flowers or something; I’ll chop a bit of wood.’ The man has hung the two little girls from a branch, and they’re clattering against each other in the wind. Hearing the sound of the gourds, the children thought their father was chopping wood. They’d gone off to pick flowers. Meanwhile, darkness was falling; the children came back and looked around, but their father was nowhere to be seen. The wind chimes on the branch kept clattering against each other. The child was frightened, and of course didn’t know the way home. Clinging to each other, they began to weep, saying, ‘My little bell that tinkles, my father who left us behind.’

Eventually, the children set off on their way. They walked and walked; after travelling a very long way, they grew tired. By this time, they were very hungry, so they sat down to eat the bread and salt their mother had packed for them. They take turns eating the bread and salt. They get up and set off again. After walking a little further, the boy gets thirsty. Naturally, his throat is parched from eating the salty bread. He asks his sister, ‘Sis, I’m really thirsty—can I have a drink?’ His sister replied, ‘My dear, don’t drink from there.’ Because the area was full of creature tracks. The boy tried his best not to drink. But after walking a little further, he said, ‘Sister, I can’t hold on any longer,’ and drank from the water. The moment the little girl drank from the water, she suddenly turned half-deer, half-human... Anyway, they set off walking again. As they walked on, they came to a spring. By the spring stood a poplar tree—a truly mighty poplar. The girl, frightened, climbed up onto the tree trunk. Just then, a gentleman rode up to the spring to water his horse. The horse kept looking at the spring and then backing away. It simply wouldn’t go near to drink. The gentleman’s son wondered, ‘What on earth is the matter with this horse?’ Then he looked at the fountain and saw the girl’s reflection in the water, standing on the willow tree. The horse, seeing her there, wouldn’t approach the fountain. He took a closer look—she was a very beautiful girl...

— ‘Are you a human or a jinn? What are you doing up there? Come down,’ he said... The girl replied:

— I’m neither human nor jinn. I’m a son of Adam, just like you, she said. The young man then told her to come down. But the girl still wouldn’t come down. The next day, the young man brought some men to cut down the poplar. The labourers hadn’t managed to finish felling the tree that day. The tree was that huge. ‘We’ll finish it tomorrow,’ they said, and left that evening. That night, the girl’s brother—who was a deer—came along and, licking away, put the cut part back in place. The next day they were cutting at it again and still couldn’t finish; the stag licked it again and put it back in place… Finally, the old man realised it wouldn’t be cut down and said, ‘Who can bring this down?’ An old woman said, ‘I’ll bring it down.’ ‘All right then,’ they said, ‘go on, let’s see you do it.’ The old woman took a pan, a cauldron, a copper pot and some walnuts, and went to the fountain. Now she turns the griddle upside down and places it there, then turns the cauldron upside down and sets it on top of the griddle. She also fills the copper pot with water from the fountain and pours it over the top. Of course, the cauldron never fills up; it just won’t fill. Finally, the girl couldn’t stand it any longer and called out from above:

— ‘Granny, granny, turn the cauldron and the tray upside down and put the water in like that,’ she said.

The old woman replied:

— ‘I can’t see, my girl; come and do it yourself,’ she said.

The girl came to her aid. She went downstairs, turned the stand upside down, turned the cauldron upside down, filled it with water, and lit the fire underneath. The old woman said to the girl, ‘My girl, may God be pleased with you; take these walnuts, eat them and rest a while.’ After that, whilst the girl was cracking the walnuts, the old woman went behind her and stabbed her in the back with a stake. The girl thought she was just cracking the walnuts. Meanwhile, the old woman called out to the young man:

— ‘Hurry, young master, the game is getting away,’ she cried. The young master rushed over, took the girl and brought her home. Then the girl said, ‘I also have a brother who is a stag; go and fetch him too.’ The young master found him too and brought him home. Once he’d brought him back as well, they held a wedding celebration for forty days and forty nights and got married. They also took the Gypsy girl on as a servant. The servant girl grew jealous as she saw how well they were getting on. Eventually, little Fatma became pregnant. The Gypsy girl says to her, ‘If we swapped clothes, do you think I’d be as beautiful as you?’ Fatma gives her the clothes, and they swap. There wasn’t even a mirror in the house back then, so the Gypsy girl said, ‘Come on, let’s go to the well and see which of us is the prettier.’ As they were looking into the well, the Gypsy girl pushed Fatmacık into it. She stayed there in Fatmacık’s clothes, taking her place. Anyone who saw her would have thought she was little Fatma. Anyway, a day went by, then two days, and the young man couldn’t see his sister. The little boy looked at the shoes and said, ‘These are my uncle’s shoes, these are the Gypsy girl’s shoes – but where are my sister’s shoes?’ Saying this, he went to the edge of the well and wept.

‘Fatma, Fatma, come out of the well,’ he said. The girl replied, ‘How can I get out, my dear?’ So the young stag brought the chief’s son to the side of the well. The lord’s son wouldn’t believe the girl was in the well. ‘Right, I’ve come—let’s call out to your sister,’ he said. So she called out:

— ‘Fatma, Fatma, come out of the well,’ he said. The girl called back:

— ‘How can I get out, my dear? My golden hair is down to my waist, and my Süleyman is in my arms,’ she said. As the girl was pregnant, she had given birth in the well.

After that, the young man climbed down into the well, cleared out the water, and pulled the girl and her child out. Then the young man asks the Gypsy girl, ‘Who did this to you?’ But the Gypsy girl doesn’t say a single word. Fatma, however, tells the whole story exactly as it happened. Upon hearing this, the young man asks the Gypsy girl:

— ‘Do you want forty mules, or forty lines?’ she asked. She replied:

— ‘What would I do with forty lines? I’ll take the forty mules and go to my mother’s house,’ she says. ‘Very well,’ says the lord’s son; he ties the forty mules tail to tail, and ties the Gypsy girl behind them. He hits each mule with a stick and sets them running. The Gypsy girl is dragged along, torn to pieces as she goes. As she is being dragged, she cries out:

— ‘Let the blood flowing from me turn into thorny black thistles,’ she says.

It is said that all the black brambles on earth were formed from the blood that flowed from that girl. The saying ‘to come between lovers like a black bramble’ is said to originate from this story. (Narrator’s note)

Narrated by: AYŞE ÇETİN

The Bear’s Tale

Once upon a time, there were many of God’s creatures. Back in the days when chaff was mixed with straw, when camels were criers and fleas were barbers, whilst I was gently rocking my grandfather’s five… A group of girls had gone to the well to fetch water. But this is just a tale, so don’t be afraid: whilst the girls were filling their jugs at the well, a bear came from the other side. When the girls saw the bear, they ran away. But one of them couldn’t escape. Her name was Umman. (Ummuhan) The bear caught Umman, hoisted her onto his back and carried her off. The girls who’d escaped went to Umman’s mother and father and told them what had happened. Upon hearing this, the whole village set out to search for the girl. They searched and searched, but they just couldn’t find out where the bear had taken her...

Seven years later, the girl’s brothers went out hunting. They’d been searching for her for seven years. Just then, they suddenly heard a commotion. As they looked to see where the sound was coming from, they spotted a huge cave. The bear had taken the girl into the cave. Anyway, the lads found the entrance to the cave and called out:

— ‘Umman, Umman, is that you?’ they called out. The girl replied from inside:

— ‘It’s me, but you must leave now, so the bear doesn’t see you. There are lots of things here; you’ll need to bring a horse to carry them,’ she said.

— The girl must have thought that if there was a cart or something, the bear might catch up with them. So she loaded the bear’s loot—which he’d stolen from here and there—onto the cart. A little while later, the bear

arrived at the meadow. The girl sent him off to fetch something from a distant place. Whilst the bear was away, the girl’s brothers came and loaded the goods onto the horse and set off. Naturally, they took Umman with them as well. One of her brothers stayed behind. He climbed a tree to watch and see what the bear would do. A little while later, the bear came back and saw that only the child was left in the hut with the dough trough. This child was the daughter of the bear and the girl. Half bear, half human. The dough in the trough was bubbling away. The child had soiled himself underneath, and the bear, staring intently, — ‘Umman, Umman, the dough’s bubbling, the child’s crackling—where are you?’ he called out. Finally, he grabbed the dough trough and threw it out. He stepped on the child, then grabbed him by the arm, tore him in two and flung him away. After that, he began to walk about like a proper human being. Grumbling and grumbling, he walked off into the distance.

Narrated by: PAKİZE ÇETİN

The Child of the Ash-Eating Woman

Once upon a time… Long, long ago, when camels were town criers and fleas were barbers, whilst I was gently rocking my grandfather’s cradle… In one of the villages, there lived a widowed old woman and her son. They were as poor as could be. The mother would say to her son:

— ‘My son, go and find some work somewhere; what are we to do in this poverty?’ she would say, over and over again. And the boy would reply to his mother:

— ‘Mum, God will surely make things easier,’ he said (or so they say). Finally, one day, the boy could no longer bear his mother’s nagging and said, ‘I’m off.’ ‘Perhaps if I find a decent job, I’ll work,’ he added. They had a cat, but nothing else. As the boy set off, he spotted a puppy by the side of the road. The other children were beating it, nearly to death… He rescued it from their hands, took it with him, and hurried on his way. Anyway, he’d gone quite a way when he came across a baby snake; he rescued that one too. He took it with him as well, set off again, walking and walking… Eventually, he thought, ‘Where on earth am I going with these lot? First there was one, then two, then three.’ ‘Where shall we find shelter with these lot?’ he said, and turned back towards home…

The boy arrived home, and when his mother saw him, she asked, ‘What’s happened, my boy? Why have you come back?’ Then, seeing the two animals—the dog and the snake—by his side, she said, ‘Goodness me, why have you brought these back with you?’ ‘Oh my boy, we don’t even have enough to eat ourselves—how are we going to manage with these?’ she said. The boy replied, ‘God will surely make it easy; He’ll provide for them too, Mum.’ He gave the cat and the dog a place to eat, and made a basket for the snake, hanging it up under the eaves. He looked after all three of them for a year or two. Finally, one day, the snake spoke: ‘Brother, look how lovely your mum is, and your dad too—even if your dad isn’t here, at least you’ve got your mum, and you’re by her side…’ ‘I have a mum and dad too; it would be good if you took me to them,’ it said. ‘I miss them so much; we haven’t seen each other for two years, and they must be worried about me,’ it added. ‘All right, let’s go then,’ said the child. ‘Where are your mum and dad?’ The snake described the place. Anyway, they set off on their way, the snake in front, the boy behind, heading towards the snakes’ lair… Before they reached the lair, the snake said, ‘My dad loves me very much.’ When they reached the snake’s lair—which was full of snakes—the snake said, ‘Don’t be afraid if they try to attack you; don’t worry at all, I won’t let them harm you.’ But my father told you, ‘Ask me for whatever you wish’—I’ll ask for the gem on your tail,’ he said. ‘That spot is very powerful; once you’ve licked it, all your wishes will come true,’ it said. ‘All right,’ said the child. As they approached the snake’s lair, the snakes began hissing, ‘sssss’. The young snake cried out, ‘Stop, stop!’ ‘It saved me from death; it won’t harm anyone…’ After that, the snake stood still. The child chatted amiably, showed it a place to sit, and sat it down. They chatted about this and that in their own languages. The child asked after its well-being. Finally, the child said, ‘Well, I’d better be off.’ ‘You may go,’ said the little snake’s father, ‘but you saved my life, so “ask of me whatever you wish”.’ ‘I wish you good health; what else could I ask for?’ said the child. The big snake replied, ‘No, it’s not enough to wish me good health; you must ask for something specific.’ So the child said, ‘I’d like the feather on your tail.’ ‘No, that won’t do,’ said the snake. ‘Then let the little snake come out of there, and I’ll go with my brother,’ he said. ‘If not, I’ll go with my father,’ he said. ‘Because he saved me from death…’ His father then said, ‘All right then, all right,’ and took out the pearl and gave it to him. The boy took the pearl, said, ‘Goodbye,’ and parted ways. A short while later, he came back, took out the food and sat down to eat… The shepherds had gathered there too, bringing all sorts of food with them. There were quite a lot of shepherds. So it seems they’d come to Koca Bey’s Konduğu… From there, shepherds from Kızılcık, Olansa and Sarıkız had all gathered together. They sat down and ate a meal. They ate and ate but couldn’t finish it all. There was that much food. Then the shepherds went their separate ways. Naturally, no one knew where the food had come from. It’s like this now: whenever you fancy something, just lick your lips, say a prayer to God… and it happens straight away. (1)

In that country there was a sultan, and the sultan had a beautiful daughter. The boy said to his mother, ‘Mum, ask for the sultan’s daughter for me.’ But they were poor, of course, and his mother didn’t even know how to touch her chin. ‘My son, we’re poor—would they ever give that girl to us?’ she said. The boy said, ‘Come on, just go and have a go.’ Anyway, his mother went, hesitantly, and of course they turned her away at the door. The sultan asked, ‘Who is that?’ When he realised it was a woman, he said, ‘Just give her a bit of bread so she can go.’ The woman had, of course, always been collecting bread from here and there. He thrust a bit of bread into her hand and sent her on her way… The woman returned home, and her son was waiting there anxiously; he’d known it would turn out like this, but he was curious to see how the Sultan would react. When his mother came home, she said, ‘My son, he just gave me a bit of bread and sent me on my way; he didn’t even let me go before the sultan.’ A few days later, her son told his mother to go again. Anyway, the woman went again, albeit reluctantly. This time, the sultan told the guards, ‘Just give her a bit of grain and let her go.’ They gave her a bit of grain and sent her back… Her son told her to go a third time. The woman had got used to it, so she went again, anyway. She told the guards, ‘This time, bread and grain won’t do; I’m going to see the sultan—let me through.’ The Sultan heard them and said, ‘Go on, let her come in; let’s see what she has to say.’ So she went to the Sultan and said, ‘I’ve come to ask for your daughter’s hand for my son. By Allah’s command and the Prophet’s word…’ The sultan laughed. He said, ‘If he can turn that place into a garden of roses, I’ll give him my daughter.’ The woman went to her son and said, ‘He said, “If you can turn that place into a garden of roses, I’ll give her to you.” Didn’t I tell you it wouldn’t work?’ ‘It’s easy, mother,’ she said, and with a single lick of her tongue, that very evening the place became a garden full of roses. The next day, the boy sent his mother off again. This time, too, the Sultan did not keep his word; he said, ‘If he lays a golden floor from my palace to his own home, and builds himself a golden palace, then I shall give her to him.’ It seemed impossible to the woman, but when she came and explained the situation to the boy, he said, ‘All right, Mother.’ That very night, a miracle happened: a golden floor stretched from the sultan’s house to her own, and a palace appeared before her eyes. In the morning, the sultan looked and saw the golden palace before him. He was utterly astonished… To himself he said:

— ‘Blimey, I suppose we’ll have to give our daughter to the son of that ash-eating woman. I’ve no idea how he’s managed it,’ he said. That same day, the boy’s mother went to the sultan and asked, ‘What do you say?’ The sultan said, ‘All right,’ and gave his daughter’s hand in marriage. The wedding was organised immediately, with drums and trumpets. A wedding, a wedding—for forty days and forty nights they feasted and drank, held a wedding with drums and tambourines, and got married. Of course, the days passed one after another. One day, the sultan’s daughter asked her husband, ‘How did you win me over?’ The lad was a bit of a smooth talker, of course, but eventually—as time went by—he let his wife in on the secret. He revealed his secret… ‘I won you over with this little trick,’ he said. ‘It happened like this, I did it like this, and that’s how I took you from your father,’ he said. You know how a person has their devil (their devil), well, the girl also had a friend. An Arab, from beyond the seven seas… When the child fell asleep, the girl took the ring off her finger. She licked the ring and immediately called out to her Arab friend: ‘Bring my beloved here from across the seven seas,’ she said. The Arab came. As soon as he took the ring, they both vanished. The child remained fast asleep. Once the ring was gone, the palace and everything else naturally collapsed. When the child woke up, he looked around: the palace was gone, his mother was gone, and the ring was gone. He got up, wondering if she’d perhaps gone to her parents’ house, and went to the palace; ‘Has your daughter come here?’ he asked. ‘No, she hasn’t,’ they said. The sultan took a look around – oh my, everywhere, everywhere… ‘Good heavens, how on earth did this happen?’ he said. The child, sleep-deprived of course, wandered about listlessly for a few days. Finally, he took the cat and the dog and went down to the seashore. There, he lay down under a plane tree; and what did the cat do? It immediately climbed to the top of the tree. From there, the cat looked and saw the Arab and his sweetheart walking on the other side of the sea. It immediately came down. The dog explained the situation to him. Together, they leapt onto each other’s backs and swam across the seven seas. They reached a piece of land. By then, they were in a right state. And, of course, they were starving. The dog said, ‘I’m going to break a few bones round here; I’m absolutely starving.’ The cat said, ‘I’ll go and hunt a bit in that forest.’ Whilst hunting, he spotted a rat’s nest on the ground. The cat walked right in. And what do you know—inside, the rats were having a wedding. The son of the mice’s sultan was getting married. The cat was about to pounce on the mouse who was to be the groom. The mice immediately stepped in, pleading, ‘For heaven’s sake, don’t eat him—he’s the groom!’ The cat said, ‘All right, I won’t eat him, but tell me—did an Arab and a girl pass by here?’ A little mouse said, ‘Yes, I saw them pass by.’ ‘Then show me where they went,’ said the cat. ‘I know where they went; I know their home too,’ said the mouse. So the cat went straight off and found the house. He looked and saw the Arab and his girlfriend asleep. The button was missing. ‘I wonder where it could be?’ he wondered. The button was in the Arab’s nose. The mouse examined it thoroughly. He went and first stuck his tail into the oil dish, then into the butter dish, smearing it all over. It came back and stuck it up the Arab’s nose to make him open his mouth. When the Arab scratched his nose, he let out a ‘öhhaaa’. The mouse flew out. The cat immediately grabbed the mouse and brought it to the cat. The Arab tried to dodge it, saying ‘the flea’, but it was too late. The cat snatched the flea straight away, went over to the dog’s side and said, ‘I found the flea.’ ‘Blimey,’ he said, ‘how did you find it?’ ‘Well, it just happened like this and that, and I found it.’

Now, as they were arguing over who would carry the ball—you’ll take it, I’ll take it—a row broke out… In the end, they came to an agreement. They wouldn’t have been able to agree otherwise, but the cat can’t swim in the sea. Anyway, the cat took the ball in its mouth, pinned the dog to its back, and started swimming. As they swam on and on, they reached the open sea. The dog said to the cat in the open sea: ‘Give me the fish, I’ll take it to my owner,’ and added, ‘or I’ll throw it away, mark my words.’ ‘Oh, don’t do that,’ said the cat, ‘your teeth are so sharp you’ll knock them out.’ ‘No,’ said the dog, ‘I won’t listen to you at all; I’ll throw it in.’ What could the cat do? It had to give it to him. The dog didn’t get the paw and dropped it into the sea… He swam back to his owner’s side, but the paw was gone. He began to feel sad. His owners were still asleep. ‘What shall I do, what shall I do?’ he thought, and he’d got hungry. Someone had been fishing over there and there were some fish scraps left. The cat started eating them. As he was munching away, doesn’t the tail pop up from among the fish scraps? ‘I’ve found it, I’ve found it,’ the cat starts meowing. The dog: ‘What’ve you found, then?’ ‘I’ve found the tail.’ Its owners were still asleep; it was licking its tail, so as not to wake them suddenly. It splashed some water on its face. When he woke up, he asked, ‘What’s that?’ ‘We’re back, mate,’ they said. ‘Have you been sleeping the whole time?’ Who knows how many days he’d been lying there. ‘Let’s fill our bellies first,’ they said. The poor chap must have been lying there for who knows how many days. She licked her lips and immediately brought out the food. They ate their fill. After that, she said, ‘Come on, let’s go and fetch the wife and the child.’ They went home… Now she had to lick her lips. We need to bring the Arab and his wife. After licking her lips, she says, ‘The Arab and his sweetheart must surely be coming here.’ She invites the sultan over as well. Immediately, the Arab and the girl arrive, all over each other. The boy says to the sultan:

— ‘Look at your daughter’s shamelessness,’ he said. ‘You called me shameless; now look at your daughter’s shamelessness,’ he said. Immediately, the sultan ordered his men to behead the Arab. He also had his daughter given a good thrashing, and then said: ‘Look, you’ve seen what sort of state she’s in now.’ ‘This lad is better than me,’ he said. ‘I’m leaving this country now; let this palace be yours, let the country be yours—let it all be yours,’ he told the lad. Then he took his leave and went off to other parts. The child of the wife who ate the ashes became the sultan of my country. He reigned there for years. They achieved their desire; may the same befall us… Three apples fell from the sky: one for the storyteller, one for the listeners, and one for the readers…

Narrator: CELALİ ÖZCAN

(1) The words ‘Kocabeyin Konduğu’, ‘Olansa’, ‘Kızılcık’ and ‘Sarıkız’ mentioned in this paragraph are the names of hills located to the south of the village.

The Three Brothers

Once upon a time, in a land long ago, as distant as a sieve full of chaff, there were three brothers. They set off on their way to find work. As they were walking along the road, an old man caught up with them. He asked the boys:

— ‘Where are you off to?’ he asked,

— ‘We’re off to work,’ they replied,

— ‘Take me with you,’ said the old man. Two of them didn’t want to take him. The youngest said:

— ‘Let him come along, brother,’ he said. ‘He can work with us; what’s the harm?’ ‘All right, let’s see him come along then,’ they said. As they walked on and on, they came upon a field of grain. The old man said:

— ‘You lot cut this field; I’ll pop over to the village to sort out the payment, collect the money and come back,’ he said. That old man was up to his old tricks again. He went to the village, brought them food and all sorts of things. They finished the harvest quickly; naturally, since the dervish had started the work, wouldn’t it be finished quickly? The dervish had found the owner; they were eating, and the dervish had brought a sack full of money, which he’d placed at one end of the field. The older one said:

— Go and fetch the sack. The older one went and had a look—oh, a sack full of money. He filled his pockets from the sack, and then said:

— ‘Oh, I can’t carry that sack—it’s far too heavy,’ he said.

They sent the middle one, and he took a look… Gold. He immediately filled his pockets. He said, just like his older brother:

— ‘I can’t carry that one either; it’s far too heavy. I don’t even know what’s inside,’ he said. ‘Well then,’ they said to the youngest child, ‘you go and fetch it.’ The youngest took a look at the sack full of money… He immediately gathered the top of the sack in his hands, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and off he went. Without putting a single coin in his own pocket – he was a kind-hearted lad, of course.

Off they went again, walking along, the money on the little lad’s shoulders, of course. He’d been carrying that sack the whole time, naturally. The older ones’ pockets were full. But the old man knew all about them. Of course, he’s a dervish—wouldn’t he know? As they went along, he’d look over and see a stork in the meadow, just like that. The older one said:

— ‘If only that stork were a sheep and mine, and I were the shepherd tending them; if only there were a flock over there too, that would be something, wouldn’t it?’ Devriş replied:

— ‘Then let’s pray; if it happens, you’ll stay here to look after them.’ After Devriş had prayed, wouldn’t you know it? All those storks and sheep in the plain, and a single sheepfold just like that. He said to it, ‘You stay here to look after them. ‘Right then, goodbye…’ And off they went. As they walked along, they came to a fountain. The fountain was flowing just like that. The middle one

— ‘If wine flowed from one spout of this fountain and raki from the other, I’d be the owner of a tavern here and sell them,’ he said. Devriş:

— ‘Well, why not,’ he said, ‘let’s say a prayer and see.’ The dervish said a prayer. And of course, it came true. They left the middle son there. The old man stayed with the youngest, and the money stayed with him too, naturally. Right then, let’s get ready to set off again. As we were travelling, we came to a village. There was a wedding taking place in the village. They’d organised a race at the wedding; whoever won the race would get to take the bride. They held the race on horses, and the first to finish would take the bride. That was the custom in that village, whatever that custom might be. So they went there with the old man:

— ‘Let’s take part in the race too,’ they said. The villagers replied:

‘Come on, where do you think you’ll win the race?’ he said. ‘If you’re going to take part, then take part on this horse…’ The old man said:

— ‘Go on, lad, ride this horse,’ he said. The horse was unkempt and scrawny. The boy mounted the scrawny horse, looking rather ill. But there, under Devriş’s influence, the scrawny horse seemed to take flight. He’d outrun them all and deserve the bride… But this time, the ash was getting in the way… ‘Bloody hell,’ he’d say, ‘let a stranger come from outside, ride that scrawny horse to first place and take my lovely bride…’ Still, he wouldn’t let him. ‘It wouldn’t work, it would work,’ they’d say, but they still wouldn’t give her away. ‘Since you’re going to do things like this, Grandad,’ they’d say, ‘why don’t you make that field over there green again?’ Grandad:

— ‘All right, we’ll go and gather that hay tomorrow morning,’ he said. It was out of season, though—a winter’s day. People didn’t believe it, saying, ‘Does such a thing really happen in winter?’ Still, some went off with their baskets, and when they looked, there were bunches of grapes here and there. If he did that with the grapes, he’d take the bride—that was the plan. He’d take the bride, of course; she deserved it. They took the bride with them from there, off to their own village… They held a wedding there too. Devriş said, ‘I’m off now, may God make you happy.’ Not everyone knew it was Devriş.

‘Well, goodbye then,’ he said as he left… Life went on, of course.

A year passed. One day, the old man said to himself, ‘I’ll go and visit my old friends.’ He dressed in his old, tattered clothes—that’s Devriş for you. First, he went to the sheep farmer’s. He wandered about there, sniffling away. To the sheep farmer he said:

— ‘I’m feeling rather hot, lad, could I have a bit of ayran?’ To which our big sheep farmer replies:

— ‘Get lost, get out of here! Have I made any money off you all these years?’ Devriş said, ‘Well, if you haven’t made any money off me, what can I do?’ He turned round and said:

— ‘Oh God, please restore him to his former state,’ he said. And lo and behold, our shepherd was left stranded in the desert plain. Not a single sheep remained. Devriş had turned this way and prayed; now it became clear that the older one wasn’t a kind-hearted soul… Grandad went over to our drunkard. He went to the tavern, as was his habit:

— ‘Brother, could you give me a bit of wine?’ he asked. The middle one said:

— ‘Come on, man, how many years have I been working for you? Go and have a drink of water over there, will you?’ ‘All right, all right,’ said Devriş, and off he went:

— ‘Oh God, bring him back to his old self; he won’t be able to carry this burden,’ he said. The drunkard’s tavern had also been destroyed, and he was left stranded in the desert plain.

Now it was the turn of our little lad. He’d put on some really old clothes before coming over. When he reached the door, he called out, ‘Mari huu,’ and they came straight away:

— ‘Come, come, come, Grandad, come inside; you can’t eat bread out here. Come, I’ll give you some bread to eat,’ she says. After that, she takes him inside. She cleans him up nicely and feeds him his fill. The woman’s husband wasn’t at home either. After feeding him, she sent him on his way… ‘Goodbye, Grandad,’ she said. A little while later, after some time had passed, our grandad turned up again. He came again, and the same thing happened… He’d had children by then. Now the grandad was going to try something:

— ‘I’m going to eat this child,’ he said. He’d changed his tune. ‘Well, if you’re going to eat it, go on then,’ they said. But he added, ‘Light the oven; I’ll cook this and eat it,’ and, ‘If it’s raw, my teeth won’t cut through it very well.’

They lit the oven. They sat in there with him for an hour or two. His father was there too. They lit the oven and threw the child into the blazing fire. They closed the door and left… The wife hadn’t done a thing to help out. She came in and sat with them. She said:

— ‘Grandad, there’s nothing left to eat; it’s burnt to a crisp,’ said the woman after a while:

— ‘I’ll eat it, I’ll eat it, even if it’s burnt,’ said the old man. Anyway, they sat there for a while. Grandad said, ‘Come on, let’s go; I’m really hungry.’ They went over and opened the oven door; the child had grown huge, big enough to go off to the army… The child who’d been thrown into the oven to be roasted. Grandad innocently took him out and examined him. The boy came out and immediately kissed Grandad’s hand. Of course, the boy had grown up and was now of marriageable age. Anyway, Grandad went off again…

A short while later, they held a wedding and married the boy off. The girl he’d married turned out to be no good. Grandfather came to the door, and this time the new bride came out to meet him. Grandfather looked at the situation and didn’t like what he saw… — ‘Son, change the threshold of the door,’ he told the lad. By saying ‘change the threshold’, he meant ‘change your wife’. He changed her straight away—divorced her… Then he married him off again. That bride turned out to be a good one. He said to them:

— ‘May God bless you,’ he said. But he never had any trouble with the child.

Meanwhile, whether it was for the wedding of the son or the daughter, the elders had come; they’d heard there was a wedding in the village and had come. They arrived, stumbling and spilling as they came, drunk. The boy recognised his uncles. He took them to his home, saying, ‘I’ll look after you here. You’re the poorest in this village.’ But his uncles didn’t recognise him. He set aside a place for them and looked after them there. Whilst he was staying there, he began to set his sights on his wife. When the lad found out about this, he grabbed an axe. He was about to kill his brother. The other one also tried to kill him; he was going to kill him too, so his wife would be left to him... Just then, our old man grabbed the handle of the axe. Devriş rushed over straight away. Meanwhile, the other one arrived too. The younger man’s son arrived as well. The old man gathered them all together:

— ‘You,’ he said, ‘you’re an ungrateful infidel.’ ‘You’re both good-for-nothings,’ he said. To both of them at once:

— You went off to work at that time; I followed you. If it weren’t for this child,

you wouldn’t have taken me. We went to such-and-such a place to work, we set you up with sheep in such-and-such a place, and we set you up with a tavern in such-and-such a place, but you couldn’t manage it. ‘You’re a good-for-nothing, and so are you,’ the old man told them. ‘Let this be a lesson to you: “I’m the one who made you a man, and I’m the one who’ll break you,”’ he said. ‘You’ll suffer a great deal,’ he said, and walked off… He chases the others away from there, telling them to get lost. ‘Go on, get out of here and don’t be a nuisance to me,’ he says. There’s a little boy there, living a peaceful life with his family. So it seems that having a good heart is always a good thing, and living with a pure heart is good wherever you are.

Narrated by: CELALİ ÖZCAN

All episodes of the series

1. Foreword and Introduction to the Village
2. Customs Related to Birth and Children
3. Folk Medicine
4. Superstitions and Folk Meteorology
5. Proverbs, Blessings and Curses
6. Folk Songs, Lamentations and Nursery Rhymes
7. Legends and Riddles
8. Fairy Tales
9. Rhymes and Ramadan Rhymes

Traditions and Customs page