John Yeoman - Quentin Blakes Magical Tales

T he little-known folktales I have brought together for this book come from very different parts of the world. But, for all that, they have a lot in common.

For one thing, when the stories were first invented they were intended to be told and not read. So they are all much, much older than the earliest versions that I have been able to find in books.

And for another thing, they all illustrate the element of magic which is such a familiar ingredient in most of the folktales that you got to know when you first began to listen to stories. Magic in all its weird and wonderful variations abounds in this book in the form of wishes granted, supernatural powers, enchanted animals, transformations, the ability to fly, spells, visions, and all those other remarkable things that make folktales so vivid and exciting. The fact that, whether by coincidence or by direct borrowing, certain of the tales contain moments that remind us of more familiar stories only increases the pleasure, I think. For instance, we dont mind being able to guess in advance that Aleodors kindness to the three helpless creatures in Half-Man-Half-Lame-Horse will be rewarded handsomely in the end, just as will the young servants to the old beggar in The Magic Handkerchief and the widows to the old man in The Pumpkin Tree.

And Im sure we all positively relish the age-old satisfaction of seeing the poor, simple characters turning the tables on the mean-spirited people who want to cheat them, as happens in The Magic Cakes, The Witch Boy and The Magic Handkerchief.

It is this marvellous mixture of the familiar and the unfamiliar, together with the colourful backgrounds of the stories, that will I hope make these magic folktales worth listening to and reading over and over again.

John Yeoman

I n a far-off time in a far-off land there lived a young orphan lad who collected firewood from a nearby forest to make a living.

Late one afternoon, when it was beginning to get dark and his sack was still half-empty, the boy spotted a blue belt lying in the grass. He picked it up and tied it around his waist under his shirt. Suddenly he felt enormously strong, and knew it must be a magic belt. But he had no time to try its powers because it was getting very dark and he had to find himself a shelter for the night.

In the distance he spotted a glimmer of light coming from a tumbledown hut and decided to try his luck there. When he pushed open the door, to his surprise, there was an enormous troll sitting on the fireside bench.

Ive sat here for three hundred years boomed the troll, and never had a visitor yet. Youd better come in.

The lad sat himself by the trolls side and chatted away as if they were old friends.

Might there be a bite to eat? he asked, as bold as brass.

If youre prepared to wait a while, said the troll, tossing six logs the size of young pine trunks on to the fire. And then, when the fire had settled into glowing embers, he rose and strode out of the house.

A few minutes later the door burst open and he came back in carrying an enormous ox on his back. He set it on the floor, felled it with one blow of his fist behind its ear, hoisted it up by its four legs on to the fire and turned it about in the embers until it was cooked brown all over.

He handed the boy a huge knife and invited him to help himself to the meat, then watched in amazement as the lad carved off a thick slice the size of the table-top and gobbled it up.

If youve had enough, said the troll, I shall have a little bedtime snack. And with that he finished off the ox hoof, horns and all.

But the troll wasnt as kind-hearted as he seemed. He was very offended that this slip of boy was so strong, and decided to teach him a lesson.

The next morning he said, I would like to treat you to a drink of lionesses milk for breakfast. Theres nothing quite like it for a growing lad. As it happens I keep a few lionesses in that further field. I cant milk them myself this morning as my back aches, so perhaps youd could do it while I set out the breakfast.

The boy obligingly took the pail and set off for the field. No sooner had he vaulted the hedge than twelve snarling lionesses appeared, twitching their tails threateningly. He marched over to the fiercest, bashed it over the head with his bucket and then swung it around by its tail until the terrified creature was yelping for mercy.

When he put it down all the others clustered around his feet like kittens, so he led them back to the trolls hut and left them at the door.

Ive brought the lionesses back with me, he called, so that you can tell me how much milk we need.

Nonsense, bellowed the troll from inside, angry that the boy hadnt got torn to pieces. You havent even been to the field! And he flung open the door in a temper. Immediately the lionesses set upon him, biting and scratching until the boy had to speak to them very sternly and send them back to their paddock.

All morning the troll sat nursing his wounds and thinking how he could get even with the brat. And then he had an idea. His two brothers had a castle on the hill, and by that castle was an orchard where the most delicious apples grew. But anyone who ate even a small bite of one of those apples would fall into a deep sleep immediately.

My brothers are ten times as strong as I am, said the troll to himself. They will rip him apart as he sleeps.

I really fancy some of those tasty apples from the castle orchard, he said to the boy. But with my bad back... Why dont you pick a basketful for us?

The lad was eager to help, but he was careful to collect the lionesses as he passed their field.

When they reached the orchard he climbed a tree and picked as many apples as he could, eating many along the way. But no sooner had he got down than a heavy sleep overcame him. Seeing this, the lionesses all lay down in a circle around him.

It was not until the third day that the trolls two brothers appeared, but they didnt come in the shape of an ordinary man; they came snorting savagely in the form of man-eating stallions.

At once the lionesses rose up against the troll-stallions, tearing them to pieces and finishing up every bit. When the lad awoke there they were purring contentedly around him and licking their chops.

Looking up he saw a pretty young maiden leaning from a window.

You were lucky not to have been caught up in that terrible fight! she called. You would have been killed.

The lad tapped his magic blue belt. I doubt it, he said.

Leaving the lionesses waiting patiently outside, he went into the castle to talk to the maiden. She told him she was the daughter of the king of Arabia and that the two trolls had kept her prisoner in the castle.