LEGENDS AND POPULAR TALES OF THE BASQUE PEOPLE

[Faith of the Fallen]

VII.

Antonio began to descend quickly the mountain, and entered the plantation. The last hours of the second day of November had not yet struck. The chestnut wood was enveloped in darkness--intensely dark. A sepulchral silence reigned throughout space, in strange contrast to what had occurred on the previous night. No sound crossed its leafy luxuriance, the

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branches of the huge trees remained motionless; even the moaning of the Oria had subsided, and its waters seemed to have lost their power; the bronze tongues of the bells hung silent within their concave hollows; not even a breath of air stirred the dry leaves which covered the ground.

Suddenly, as on the previous evening, he saw among the moss-covered trunks of the trees the same pale light of undefinable colour, bluish-white. But on this occasion the light was behind him; he turned his face, and noticed that the "Arguiduna" was following him at about two yards' distance.

"Good-night, my mother, good-night," said Antonio, saluting and uncovering his head. "This night we have prayed longer for the eternal repose of your soul."

The gleam of light visibly twinkled, and for a brief moment shed a more vivid reflection around.

"Pass on before me, mother; your son desires that you should guide him after death across the dark path of life, in the same way as you guided him when you lived."

But the light twinkled more then ever, then approached the youth, yet kept behind him. Antonio continued walking, followed by the "Arguiduna." He had reached the densest part of the wood, when he noticed that the pale light which had illumined his path was gradually diminishing its intensity; he turned

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quickly round, fearing lest the light should disappear altogether before he had time to bid it a loving farewell; but a horrible scene presented itself to his view. Three livid heads with rough matted hair and wild glassy eyes occupied a small opening in the wood, and formed a triangle. On the forehead of one was written in red characters the word "Pride," on the next the word "Wrath," and upon the third, "Envy." Sharp arrows pierced through their foreheads, and a fearful expression of pain and rage contracted the muscles of those three blood-stained heads. The flickering light had poised itself in the centre of the triangle of heads "Pride" then curled its vicious mouth and blew. "Arguiduna" swiftly flew until it touched the red lips of the head upon the brow of which was written the word "Wrath." This one also blew at the light, and the colourless flame flew away and stumbled against "Envy." This game was very rapid. The light faded by moments; its swift movements lessened visibly, the volume of its bluish flame was fast weakening.

The heads meanwhile, without losing the contraction of features produced by acute pain, laughed in a mute manner, nervously and inwardly, and formed a frightful contrast to the visible suffering which could be remarked on their drawn faces. And the light faded more and more, its movements slower, its flame grew sensibly smaller.

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"Arguiduna" appeared to suffer acutely; "Arguiduna " was asking assistance in its own mysterious language; it was evidently wrestling with those inexorable heads, which were redoubling their puffs on beholding and enjoying the sufferings of the little flame. The light was now almost extinguished; the laughter of those three heads became more frightfully significative.

"My mother! my dearest mother!" cried Antonio in despairing accents, as he flew towards the open space.

The three heads suddenly turned round towards the young man. Their glassy eyes were darting undefinable flames of wrath. The light flickered once--took form, and swift as thought leaped over the space occupied by the three heads, and came to place itself at the feet of Antonio, casting around a luminous resplendency.

A noise and rumble similar to that which nature will utter at the moment of its complete destruction shook the neighbouring mountains to their very foundations. The Oria stopped its course; the bell-tower shook and broke out in dismal tolling; the waves of the Cantabrian Sea stayed its rapid threatening march. Antonio looked towards the open space. The three heads had disappeared. The "Arguiduna" was moving gracefully, and displayed its relief and joy by shedding around soft yet bright beams.

*     *     *     *     *     *

Since that memorable night, never was "Discord"

[Faith of the Fallen]

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seen again in the Guipuzcoan territory. From that night also the three evil creatures, Pride, Wrath, and Envy, are unknown on that noble soil.

On the following morning, Gabriela and Antonio left the house of Alzate together, and bent their steps towards the fountain spring over which towers the walnut tree.

The two lovers, on approaching to drink of its waters, noticed a strange thing. The pure water of the spring was tinged with a red colour. The philter of the "witch of Pagollaga" was mixed in its streams. In course of time, whenever Antonio crossed the chestnut plantation of Arricarte, the "Arguiduna," swift, joyful, like the capricious bee that flits from flower to flower, would always accompany him with watchful solicitude and care, flickering brightly and casting around brilliant resplendencies, and then the youthful heir of Azcue would lovingly say to it:

"My dearest mother, Gabriela and prayed last night fervently for the eternal repose of your soul. Gabriela and I love you tenderly, and we shall teach our children to love you also most lovingly, even as we do."


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Footnotes
52:1 Fatuous fire, or Will-o'-the-Wisp."

60:1 Lecayo--a cry of joy which is used as a signal.



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[Faith of the Fallen]

MAITAGARRI. 1
I.
ITURRIOZ. 2

HE most profound silence reigned in one of the houses of the suburbs of Oyarzun. Pedro Iturrioz, the head of the family, a robust mountaineer of advanced age, had finished his supper; and his wife some years younger than he, was at his side offering him a cup of warm wine, and awaited that her husband should address her. The chieftain made a sign, and the wife placed in his hands a silver cup with a gesture of tender love and deep respect.



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She then laid on the table a basket filled with luscious fruit, and sat down at the further end of the room at her wheel, spinning the finest thread, which later on would become converted into handkerchiefs, towels, and perfumed linen, such as abounds in quantities in all Basque homes. At another corner of the kitchen, two girls of singular beauty, were conversing in a low tone with a youth of about fifteen years of age who stood with uncovered head.

A long settle, ornamented with large brass nails, could be seen unoccupied beneath the wide chimney roof, to the right of the hearth. The gleams from the crackling fire on the hearth, and the bright rays of a flambeau of hempen cord and rosin which hung from an iron ring, lit up this family group. The chief divided a beautiful apple and gave one half to his wife, then drank two-thirds of the warm wine in the cup, and invited her to finish the rest; this she did without saying a word. The mountaineer then uncovered his venerable head, and all rose up on seeing this action. He made the sign of the cross, murmured a prayer in which all present joined, and then sat down on the settle by the fireside.

One of the girls removed the supper things, carefully folded the white cloth, and then all the family sat clown around the fire. The mistress of the house was spinning, the young girls were winding skeins of thread on wooden reels, the youth sharpened a woodman's knife, meanwhile

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that Pedro Iturrioz, leaning his elbow on the arms of the settle, appeared lost in thought. The eyes of all were directed to the countenance of the old man, whose eyes were gradually closing in sleep. The wife made quietly a sign; the conversation of the girls ceased, and the young man intoned in a low voice a simple monotonous song, the cadences of which were marked by the three women moving their hands. The melody certainly acted with much power on the aged man, for his head fell over his breast in deep sleep.

Through the half-open door poured in the beams of the moon, which was illuminating the magnificent landscape of luxuriant trees and gigantic mountains; the ripple of the mountain stream was also heard, imparting on that quiet scene a singular charm. For a length of time did all things remain in this way, until suddenly the old man awoke and said:

"Tell me, Antonio, what did you hear on the mountain?"

The youth threw down. the knife which he was sharpening, rose up, and respectfully replied:

"I heard, father, that the battle proved a bloody one."

"Do you know who were the vanquished?"

"I was not told, father.""

The old man remained silent. The eldest girl turned deadly pale, and allowed the skein she was winding to fall to the ground, and gazed on her brother as though

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she wished to interrogate him with her looks. Antonio, however, awaited his father's permission to speak.

"To-morrow, ere it is light, proceed to the frontier, and do not return until you learn what success the combat has had," said the father.

"I will do so," replied the youth.

"Then approach nearer to me and listen, Antonio."

"What do you wish me to do?" Antonio asked, bending down his ear to listen to the words his father desired to speak confidentially.

"Gil is with them," he said, in a deeply moved voice; "he is your brother and my son, ask, explore the camp and when you return tell me that you saw him alive, or, else, if he is dead, that you buried him in a Christian manner."

"I will comply with your orders, father."

"Should he be living, tell him from me that I forbid him--do you understand? I forbid him to use his weapons against those of Arpide so long as they are before the enemy," continued the father.

"And to me, do you also forbid me this?"

"Yes, my son. Feuds and private resentments, although they may lie deep, should be hushed and laid aside when it is a question of saving the country. Cursed may he be who shall do otherwise."

The old man rose up, kissed the foreheads of the three women, blessed Antonio, and slowly quitted the kitchen.

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 Half an hour later he was sleeping the calm sleep of the just man.

Scarcely had Pedro Iturrioz left the room than the women surrounded Antonio.

"Your father has communicated to you secret commands which are not given to me to know," said the mother, with saintly resignation. "Obey him, my son, implicitly; your father holds the place of God in this world."

"This you have always taught me, my mother," replied the youth, kissing her.

"So it is, Antonio, but after the father it appertains to the mother to counsel her children. Sit down and listen to me."

The three young people sat down, the mother between her two daughters, one of which betrayed considerable anguish, While the other was lovingly watching her. Antonio knelt before Catalina and fixed his black eyes upon her. The wife of Iturrioz was caressingly playing with the curly locks of her son.

"Antonio," she said, "your brother is fighting on the frontier. You well know his fiery character: if he still lives, tell him to fulfil his duty like the brave; nevertheless, not to attempt or risk his life in senseless, heedless undertakings."

"I will tell him so," replied the youthful Antonio.

"Tell him," continued Catalina, "that he is to forget

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our private questions, and only remember that he is a Guipuzcoan, and that his enemies are those who are enemies to the country."

"My brother, do not forget these prudent counsels," interrupted the maiden, who was evidently suffering grief.

"What do you know of these affairs, Inez?" demanded Antonio, giving her a searching look.

"It is true," replied the girl, blushing, "that I understand but little about these things, but I nevertheless believe that sound reason dictates these counsels."

"My mother, what you have just advised me is the same as my father bade me do."

"God be praised!" replied Catalina. "Now nothing else remains to advise, but that you are not to linger on the journey. Receive your mother's blessing, and may God protect your brothers! My girls, let us retire."

They all rose up and left the kitchen. The household remained only under the protection of the laws of the country, and watched and guarded by a mastiff which stretched itself before the fire.

[Faith of the Fallen]

II.
THE WITCH OF ZALDIN.

The hour of midnight was striking when the outer door of the house was slowly opened, and an aged woman entered the kitchen. The mastiff lifted up his head,

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uttered a growl, approached the new comer, and then, turned lazily to lie down again. The woman threw some dry branches on the fire, and a brilliant flame lit up the hospitable room. After this she imitated to perfection the screech of an owl, and a light step was very soon after heard descending the stairs from the first floor. Dominica, the youngest of the daughters of Pedro Iturrioz, had just entered, and stopped at some distance, looking at the stranger with a look of fear and respect depicted on her countenance.

"Approach, Dominica, and come and sit by my side," said the old woman.

The maiden obeyed, and sat on the wooden bench occupied by her interlocutor; the mastiff then rose and lay at the feet of Dominica, placing his intelligent head between her knees. That group, lit up by the firelight, and standing out in relief against the blackened walls, partook somewhat of the weird character of witchcraft. The old woman with her brown wrinkled brow, round, unquiet eyes, red tangled hair, and long pointed nose, formed a strange contrast to the fresh checks, beautiful, expressive black eyes, lithe waist, and graceful smile of Dominica. To complete the picture, we will add that the old woman drew her face close to the fair countenance of the maiden, the mastiff meanwhile watching with his penetrative sight all the movements of the witch.

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"Did you send for me, Dominica?" asked the old woman, in a low voice. "Well, here I am: what do you want with me?"

"I wished to know," replied the girl, in an agitated voice, "who were the vanquished in the battle fought on the frontier?"

"Nothing else?" questioned the witch, meanwhile attentively watching Dominica.

"Nothing more," replied the maiden, lowering her eyes.

"Very well. Open that window which looks in the direction of the camp."

"It is open," she said, throwing it back.

"Look up to the sky."

"I am looking."

"What do you see towards the west?"

"I see a grey cloud."

"What form has it taken?"

"It appears to me to be like the skeleton of a gigantic horse."

"What more do you observe?"

"I see the cloud divided in two."

"Which side is the larger half?"

"The side of the head."

"The Navarrese and the French are vanquished!" replied the witch.

Dominica gave a cry of joy, and, approaching the witch, said, "Is this certain what you tell me?

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"As certain as that I am standing here. Do you wish to know more?"

"I would much like to know what has been the fate of my brother," the girl replied.

"I will satisfy your curiosity. Come near that caldron."

Dominica hastened to do as she was bidden.

"Put it on the fire, and go to the fields and bring me the roots of the plant 'virtude.'"

The girl left the house to seek the desired roots, followed by the mastiff. Then the wily pythoness drew from her pocket a leathern bag and took out of it a bundle of rags. She began to unfold most carefully this bundle until she discovered the hand of a child 1 in perfect preservation, and around this little hand were some curls of silky, golden hair. Out of a small earthenware


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bottle she poured some drops of red liquor into the caldron, which was already becoming hot over the fire, and waited for the return of Dominica.

She had not long to wait. The maiden soon returned, bearing a bundle of roots in her hand, and when she went near the old woman she noticed that the mastiff was pulling at her dress.

"Be quiet, Moor, be quiet," she said to the dog. "It seems you like to amuse yourself out in the moonlight!"

She then turned to the woman and gave her the roots.

"Did you gather these roots under the shadow?" the old witch asked, as she took them from Dominica.

"Yes, under the shadow of a walnut tree."

"It is well; sit down on the bench and watch with all attention the caldron."

The witch threw the carefully peeled roots into the cauldron, the contents of which were beginning to boil. A few moments after there rose up a blue flame, which cast a weird reflection on the furniture of the kitchen.

"What do you see?" inquired the witch.

"I see my brother covered with blood and sleeping calmly. I see many dead lying on the battle-field. Ah me!" she cried, suddenly.

"What more do you see?"

"I see Juan de Arpide also sleeping at some distance. There are many camp fires; I see sentinels."

"Look towards your brother; what is he doing?"

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