white heron
Nadezhda Kirakosova
The Tale of the White Tiger
All his life the white tiger dreamed of seeing an extraordinary golden rose. “Extraordinary animals have extraordinary desires,” he liked to say. And he was right in his own way. It's not often that you come across a talking tiger, especially a snow-white one. “I am the whitest tiger of all the white tigers I know.” True, besides myself, I don’t know a single tiger at all, but these are trifles. Who, if not me, an extraordinary animal, should see an extraordinary golden flower. This rose will be magical. Where has the tiger gone in search of his magic rose? And then one day he found himself in a very strange place. In this strange place, in the branches of a very old and strange oak tree, lived none other than a very strange eagle. His main oddity was that he was completely bald. Have you ever met completely bald eagles? Me not. Although I'm very interested. “Hello, eagle,” said the tiger. “I see that you are completely bald, and therefore wise.” Have you ever seen any unusual flowers? A golden rose, for example... - Hmm-mm... - The eagle thought. — Unusual flowers? And even gold... There is such a place. Jump twice, smack your lips three times, then bite your tail. And you will find yourself where you see your dream, however, I am not responsible for the consequences. “I’m very grateful,” the tiger shuffled his paw and carefully followed all the recommendations of the wise eagle. There was a terrible roar and everything went dark. And the tiger saw that he was in an even stranger place. There were a huge number of flowers hanging all over the space that he could see. They were all gold and, of course, extraordinary. After all, they were all wax. True, they were hardly magical: the Tiger was very puzzled. - Is this really what a dream looks like? These are not flowers at all, I don’t even know what they are... But that wasn’t the worst thing yet. - Who is there? - an unfamiliar voice rang out. -Who's there? - answered the tiger. - I work here. This is a workshop for the production of artificial wax flowers. The party has just ended and I’m a little tipsy... But you... You look like a hallucination. The most wonderful hallucination in the world... Let's kiss.. The dark figure swayed towards the tiger. The tiger was very scared. He squealed in horror, jumped on one paw and, with the very last of his strength, bit his tail. A terrible roar was heard again, everything went dark, and when the tiger opened his eyes again, he found himself near an old oak tree. A bald eagle sat on the lowest branches of an oak tree and looked sadly at the tiger. - All dreams come true, only when it approaches, the dream is not always as good as when it was expected. I'll warn you... The tiger did not let the eagle finish his sentence. He ran, jumped and bit off the eagle's wise, bald head. No one ever heard the tiger speak again, and its skin soon became yellow and covered with black stripes... Still, fulfilled dreams, especially those fulfilled to the end, sometimes leave some dissatisfaction after fulfillment. And even emptiness. Someone can try to fill this void. For example, your wise and bald head. If you have one...
I
Far in the north, among the icy sea, on a lonely island lies a kingdom, immersed almost all year round in cold twilight and fog.
The winter here was long and the summer short. The wild rocks were only briefly covered with gray mosses, and then they were again covered with snow. There was little greenery and flowers here, but the people who lived in the kingdom loved their homeland, their harsh sea, loved and appreciated all life, every blade of grass, and the pale flowers of their fields pleased them more than the luxurious flower beds of the spoiled inhabitants of the south. Therefore, when spring came and the sun gently warmed the earth, the king organized a magnificent folk festival, for which everyone had been preparing since the fall and for which they had been looking forward to the whole long winter.
Foreign princes usually came to visit for this holiday. Everyone loved the old king for his intelligence and rare kindness; everyone wanted to learn from him how to care for people who, despite the cold and long winter, lived easily and well in the kingdom.
The king had a beautiful daughter, Princess Isolde. As kind as her father, she always helped the sick and unfortunate, and the king approved of these aspirations in her. He told her that true happiness lies only in mercy, and if we are cruel, then our happiness will change our own.
The cheerful summer flew by quickly... The cold sea became gloomy and deserted. Gray, like steel, it sways heavily under the pressure of the icy wind; it will rage, roar and calm down again, then grind the floating ice, then howl, then suddenly fall silent. But whether it rages or is silent, there is no faith in it: it is equally harsh and inhospitable. The sun no longer peeks through the gray clouds, heavy fogs are creeping over the bare rocks again... Everything fell silent. A long, tedious winter has arrived.
Every day, Princess Isolde, lost in thought, went to the window of the palace, to that high, large window from which the frozen, snow-covered shore was visible, and behind it, as a distant gray stripe, the sea could be seen, merging with the sky, just as gray and inhospitable.
Isolde stood here for a long time, remembering the recent summer. Where are the flowers that she wove into her hair? Where are the fresh greenery, clear, warm nights, cheerful songs?.. Winter took everything away. Nothing left.
-What are you sad about, my dear daughter? - the king asked, seeing Isolde sad and thoughtful near the window. - Why are you still looking at the sea?
“Our sea is fierce,” answered Isolde. “It has swallowed up many ships, and I fear for those who leave us late.” I fear for Prince Sagir.
“Don’t be afraid, my child,” the king gently reassured. “Prince Sagir has already passed the danger. He is now sailing on his ship, approaching his homeland. Oh, how beautiful his homeland is, if you only knew!
And the king began to talk about the delights of the southern sea, about the homeland of Prince Sagir - and thereby dispersed Isolde’s sad thoughts.
- It won't be long now. Winter will pass, the spring holiday will come, and Prince Sagir will return to us. He will bring you everything that his homeland is rich in: fruits, stones, and metals, and we will celebrate your wedding in such a way that not a single creature in my kingdom forgets this day: mercy to all, young and old!
One day, when it was a frosty, moonlit night, Isolde went to the window to admire the snowy desert. The night was so clear that everything was visible as if it were day, and the frost was so strong that the glass was covered with a delicate and subtle pattern, like the thinnest branches, like stars and arrows.
Isolde fell in love.
“On my wedding day,” she thought cheerfully, “I will put on an outfit the same as my dear homeland: a white dress - like snow, a gray cloak - like the sea, and on my head I will put on a headdress of thin arrows - like frost patterns, and so that they sparkled and sparkled like snowflakes in the moonlight!”
The next day, Isolde ordered the wedding outfit to be prepared. The court seamstress undertook to make a dress that looked like snow; the master undertook to prepare a cloak of steel color - the color of the sea; but no one knew how to make a headdress that would look like arrows of frost.
They sent messengers throughout the kingdom, promising a reward to the one who performed this dress, but no one showed up. No one could invent such a dress.
Finally, an old man who had traveled around the world for a long time came to Isolde and said that he could do the cleaning, but it would take a lot of time.
“Far in the south, on the banks of a large river,” the old man said, “white herons live.” There are a lot of them in that region, because no one kills them, since their meat is not suitable for food, and they live freely. Every spring, a white crest grows on their heads, tall and lush, with delicate, wonderful fibers, thin as a spider’s web. Spring will soon come to this country. You need to hurry, and if you go there now, you’ll just find spring...
- So go! - Isolde exclaimed, looking at the old man with eyes aflame with delight.
“And if you take out the tuft and attach small diamonds to it, you will get exactly what the princess dreams of.” Our spring will not come soon. During this time, you can go and return in time for your wedding.
- But how to get a crest? - asked Isolde, joyful and radiant.
“For this you need,” answered the old man, mysteriously leaning towards the princess, just one heron... to kill.
- Kill?..
The princess lowered her hands and sadly shook her head.
“No,” she quietly objected, “I don’t need such an outfit.”
The old man bowed and left.
Isolde couldn’t sleep all night. She knew how upset her father would be if she agreed. But how beautiful and brilliant this dress must be!..
“White herons...” thought Isolde, remembering the old man’s words. “Their meat is not suitable for food... no one kills them... There are many of them...”
And if you take out the tuft and attach diamonds to it, then it will be exactly what she dreams of...
And she imagined the future spring, Prince Sagir, a snow-white dress with a gray cloak and sparks of frosty fibers...
“Only one...” Isolde continued to think, “only one to kill...”
And little by little, killing one bird, albeit for the sake of a whim, began to seem to her not such a terrible thing as at first: after all, the bird would die anyway - a little earlier or a little later... But how beautiful her wedding dress would be! How pleased Prince Sagir will be. How charming Isolde herself will be in this outfit!
So the princess thought, becoming more and more tempted by the thought of dress. She struggled with this issue for a long time and finally decided. The next morning she called the old man and ordered him to get ready for the journey.
Spring was already approaching.
The whole country was preparing for a holiday, this time unprecedented. The king lavished favors in honor of his daughter-bride, and everyone was joyful; only Isolde alone remained thoughtful and sad.
She had long since repented, long since regretted that she had succumbed to momentary temptation. But nothing could be done, and she tried to think less about it.
The spring grass turned green, the sea rustled cheerfully, the princes began to arrive, but the old man still did not return. Isolde was even glad about this and, looking at her wedding attire, began to think of something to replace the headdress with.
Prince Sagir arrived with a brilliant retinue and expensive gifts. The day of the wedding and the national holiday had already been appointed, and everything was ready for the great celebration.
The evening before, a ship from distant countries arrived in the harbor, and after a while the old man appeared at the palace. Bowing to the princess, he silently handed her the gilded box. Isolde opened it and screamed in amazement and delight.
On the dark velvet bottom of the box lay the thinnest white twigs spread out like a fan, soft as fluff and white as snow, and among them barely visible diamonds sparkled and sparkled. It was impossible to imagine a better semblance of a frosty pattern. This was the very thing that Isolde could only dream of.
- Oh, how wonderful! - she exclaimed in amazement. - How wonderful! How beautiful!
But suddenly she fell silent and closed her eyes for a minute.
- Did you kill her? - she said with alarm.
“Yes, princess,” the old man answered calmly. “He killed her to cut off that tuft of hair.” I cut it and took it to a big city where they can make such wonderful work from gold and precious stones. Everyone was surprised at the beauty of these feathers, and many young women, many merchants, many all kinds of people came to admire me and asked me to sell them, but I did not agree to anything. I gave the tuft to the famous master, the best in the world, and told him about your desire. And look what he did! - The old man proudly pointed to the shiny attire.
“Thank you,” Isolde replied, closing the box.
Her hands were shaking.
The next day, a countless crowd of jubilant people gathered at the site of the celebration to greet the bride and groom. Everyone came with young green branches and flowers, songs and shouts were heard everywhere in honor of the good king.
- Long live our good king! Long live Princess Isolde! Long live Prince Sagir!
According to the custom of the country, the king himself gave his daughter’s hand to the groom in front of all the people, and the people awaited this with impatience and curiosity.
When the princess came out, the whole crowd froze in admiration - Isolde was so beautiful! Dressed in a snow-white dress, with a long gray robe, with a luxurious headdress, she was beautiful and young, like the spring that reigned around.
Music thundered towards her, enthusiastic cries and songs were heard, wildflowers, bouquets of various herbs and colorful mosses fell to the foot of the steps - they threw everything that the desired spring had bestowed on Isolde’s gloomy homeland.
Taking his daughter by the hand, the king led her to Prince Sagir.
“I bless you, my children, for a happy life, for the good and benefit of our peoples!”
The trumpets sounded again, the enthusiastic crowd cheered again, praising the king and the newlyweds.
All day and all evening the people throughout the kingdom made noise and celebrated, and by nightfall everyone gathered at the harbor, where the royal ship stood, decorated from top to bottom with multi-colored lights that reflected and played in the waves. The sea was calm; clear stars shone peacefully in the cloudless spring sky. On this ship, Prince Sagir took Isolde from her home island far to the south, to his kingdom.
