Brother and Sister

A little brother took his sister by the hand and said to her: "Since our mother died, we haven't had a single happy day. Our stepmother beats us every day, and when we go near her, she kicks us away. All we have to eat are hard crusts of bread; the dog under the table is better fed than we are, for she sometimes throws it a good morsel. Heaven help us, if our mother only knew! Come, let's go out into the wide world together."

All day long they walked over meadows, fields and stony places. When it rained, the sister said, "Heaven is weeping with us." In the evening they came to a great forest, and they were so tired from sorrow, hunger and the long walk that they crept into a hollow tree and fell asleep.

When they woke up the next day, the sun was already high in the sky and shining warmly into the tree. The brother said, "Sister, I'm thirsty. If I knew where there was a spring, I'd go and drink. I think I can hear one bubbling." He got up, took his sister by the hand, and they went to look for the spring.

But the wicked stepmother was a witch. She had seen the two children leave, crept after them secretly as witches do, and enchanted all the springs in the forest. When the children found a spring sparkling over the stones, the brother wanted to drink. But the sister heard a voice in the bubbling of the spring: "Whoever drinks from me will become a tiger, whoever drinks from me will become a tiger." The sister cried: "Please, brother, don't drink, or you'll turn into a wild beast and tear me to pieces." Thirsty as he was, the brother did not drink: "I'll wait until the next spring."

When they came to the second spring, the sister heard it say: "Whoever drinks from me will become a wolf, whoever drinks from me will become a wolf." "Please, brother, don't drink, or you'll become a wolf and eat me." Again the brother did not drink: "I'll wait until the next spring, but then I'll drink, whatever you say, for my thirst is too great."

When they came to the third spring, the sister heard in its bubbling: "Whoever drinks from me will become a deer, whoever drinks from me will become a deer." "Oh, brother, please don't drink, or you'll become a deer and run away from me." But the brother had already knelt down by the spring, bent over and drunk from the water. As soon as the first drops touched his lips, he became a little fawn.

The sister wept for her poor enchanted brother, and the fawn sat beside her and wept too. At last the girl said, "Be still, dear little fawn, I will never leave you." She untied her golden garter and put it around the fawn's neck, plaited a soft cord from rushes, tied the little animal to it and led it along with her. They went deep into the forest, and after walking a long, long way, they came to a little house. The girl looked inside, and since it was empty, she thought, "We can stay and live here." She gathered leaves and moss to make a soft bed for the fawn. Every morning she went out and gathered roots, berries and nuts for herself and brought fresh grass for the fawn, which ate from her hand and played happily in front of her. In the evening, when the sister was tired, she said her prayers, laid her head on the fawn's back as a pillow and slept sweetly. If only the brother had had his human shape, it would have been a wonderful life.

For a while they lived like this, alone. Then one day the king of the country held a great hunt in that forest. The sound of the hunting horns, the barking of the dogs and the merry shouts of the huntsmen echoed through the trees. The fawn heard it and longed to be there: "Oh, let me go out to the hunt! I can't bear it any longer." He begged so hard that at last his sister agreed. "But come back to me in the evening," she said. "I'll lock the door against the wild huntsmen. So that I know it's you, knock and say, 'Little sister, let me in.' If you don't say that, I won't open the door."

The fawn bounded out, overjoyed to be free. When the king and his huntsmen saw the lovely animal, they chased it, but they could not catch it. When evening came, the fawn knocked at the door of the little house: "Little sister, let me in." The girl opened the door, the fawn leapt inside and rested all night on its soft bed.

The next day the hunt began again. When the fawn heard the horns, it wanted to go out again. The huntsmen saw it again and chased it; this time one of them wounded it slightly in the foot, and the fawn limped slowly away. One huntsman followed it to the little house and saw the fawn say, "Little sister, let me in," and saw the door open and quickly close again. The huntsman told the king everything. The king said, "Tomorrow we'll hunt once more."

The sister was very frightened when she saw her fawn was wounded. She washed off the blood and laid herbs on the wound: "Go to your bed, dear fawn, so you get well." The wound was so small that by the next morning the fawn felt nothing. When the sounds of the hunt were heard again, it said, "I can't bear it, I have to go." The sister wept: "They'll kill you." But the fawn begged so hard that she unwillingly opened the door.

The king said to his huntsmen, "Chase it until evening, but no one is to harm it." When the sun set, the king said to the huntsman, "Come and show me the little house." When he came to the door, he knocked and called: "Dear little sister, let me in." The door opened, the king went in, and there stood a girl more beautiful than any he had ever seen. The girl was frightened when she saw a king. But the king looked at her lovingly and held out his hand: "Will you come with me to my palace and be my dear wife?" "Oh yes," said the girl, "but the fawn must come with me. I won't leave him." The king said, "He shall stay with you as long as you live, and he shall want for nothing." Just then the fawn came in. The girl tied it to the rush cord, and they left the little house together.

The king took the beautiful girl on his horse and brought her to his palace, where the wedding was held with great splendour. Now she was queen, and they lived happily for a long time. And the fawn played in the palace garden and was loved by all.

But the wicked stepmother believed the children had been torn to pieces by wild animals in the forest. When she heard that the girl had become queen and that the fawn was living happily at the palace, she was filled with envy. She wanted her own ugly, one-eyed daughter to be queen. When the queen gave birth to a lovely baby boy, and the king was away hunting, the witch disguised herself as a maid and came into the queen's room. "Your bath is ready, my queen," she said, and she led the weak queen to the bathroom and locked the door behind her, and made the bath unbearably, burningly hot. Then she put her ugly daughter in the queen's bed and gave her the queen's appearance, but because she could not give her back her missing eye, she told her to lie on that side.

At midnight, when everyone was asleep, the nurse was sitting by the cradle. She saw the door open and the real queen come in. The queen took her child from the cradle, held it in her arms and fed it, then smoothed its pillow and tucked it in. She did not forget the fawn either; she went to the corner and stroked its back. Then she slipped quietly out of the door. The nurse saw this every night, but she did not dare tell anyone.

One night the queen began to speak: "How is my child? How is my fawn? Twice more I'll come, and then never again." The nurse told the king everything. The king said, "Oh heavens, what does this mean? Tonight I will watch by the child myself." That night the queen came again and said the same words. The king did not dare speak to her, but he watched again the next night. When the queen came again and said, "How is my child? How is my fawn? Once more I'll come, and then never again," the king could not hold back. He ran to her and said, "You can be no one but my dear wife!" "Yes, I am your dear wife," said the queen, and at that moment, by the grace of God, she came back to life, healthy and rosy-cheeked.

Then she told the king what the wicked witch and her daughter had done to her. The king brought them both before the court, and both were punished. When the witch was driven from the land and never seen again, her spell was broken too, and the fawn took on his human shape once more. The sister and brother hugged each other and lived happily until the end of their days. The sister's patience and love, her refusal ever to leave her brother, had broken even the strongest spell.