Alan Garner - Collected Folk Tales

The Rabbit went and hid behind a tree, and a few days later a hunting party arrived at the hill just before night, and Gobbleknoll opened again. This time the Rabbit used magic art, and took the shape of a man, except for his ears, which he tucked down his shirt, so that they would not brush against the roof and make Gobbleknoll sneeze.

He went down long and horrid passages, until he came to the hill’s stomach, and there were the remains of all the victims, and some who were not yet dead.

“Hey hey hey!” shouted the Rabbit. “Why don’t you eat? You leave the best! Here’s a delicious heart. What’s wrong with that?”

Gobbleknoll set up a dismal howling, for it was his own heart that the Rabbit had seen. And the Rabbit knew this, and took out a knife, and stabbed the hill dead. The ground split, and the blue sky lit the deep hollows, and the living came out and wept before the Rabbit, and wanted to give him power and riches. But all the Rabbit would take was Gobbleknoll’s fat, and he went home with it on his back, and he and his grandmother were fit to burst from it for many a day.

ong, long ago, when the world had just been made, and the blue sky was being put up over it, Shick-Shack lived with a fox in a wilderness place.

One day, the fox said that he would go hunting.

“Then go to the hill,” said Shick-Shack. “Do not go to the lake.”

Well, the fox was away all that day, and at night he did not come home. And the next day, too, he did not come back.

“That fox,” said Shick-Shack, “has gone to the lake. And now I shall have to find him.”

So Shick-Shack went to the lake to look for the fox, but all he could see was a brown bird on a branch over the water.

“Brown bird,” said Shick-Shack, “why are you sitting there and staring down so at the water?”

The brown bird said nothing.

“Brown bird,” said Shick-Shack, “why won’t you speak?”

The brown bird said nothing.

“Brown bird,” said Shick-Shack, “if you’ll tell me why you are staring down so at the water, I’ll paint you with bright colours.”

“If you’ll paint me with bright colours,” said the brown bird, “I’ll tell you why I’m staring down so at the water.”

“Well, I’ll do that,” said Shick-Shack. And he painted the brown bird with bright colours.

Then the bird said, “The truth of why I’m staring down so at the water is that a fox came here the day before now; and the snake that lives in the lake has eaten the fox, and is down there, sleeping.”

“Hah,” said Shick-Shack. And he sat on the shore of the lake, and turned himself into a tree stump.

By and by, the snake came out of the water. And when it saw the stump, it said, “That’s no tree stump.” And the snake wound all its lubber length about the stump, and squeezed. The stump split, and said nothing.

“It is like a stump,” said the snake, “but it is Shick-Shack.”

Just then, a dog came along, and the snake said, “Dog, bite that stump with your teeth.” So the dog bit the stump with its teeth. And the stump said nothing.

“It is like a stump,” said the dog, and went away.

Next, a bear came along.

“Bear,” said the snake, “rip that stump with your claws.”

So the bear ripped the stump with its claws. And the stump said nothing.

“It is like a stump,” said the bear, and went away.

“It is a stump,” said the snake. “It is not Shick-Shack.” And it lay down on the shore, and went back to sleep.

The next thing was that Shick-Shack turned back from a stump into himself, and he throttled that snake, and threw it into the lake.

Now the water didn’t like that, and it came up out of the lake to drown Shick-Shack.

Shick-Shack ran, and the water came after. He ran to the hill, and ran up it. He ran to the top. The water came after. There was a tree at the top of the hill, and Shick-Shack climbed it. The water came after. Shick-Shack climbed to the top of the tree. The water came after.

Shick-Shack said to the tree, “Grow.” The tree grew. The water came after.

Shick-Shack said to the tree, “Grow.” The tree grew. The water came after.

Shick-Shack said to the tree, “Grow.” The tree grew. The water came after.

Shick-Shack said to the tree, “Grow.” The tree said, “I’ve done with growing.”

The water came after. Shick-Shack broke branches from the tree to make a raft, and he sat on the raft and floated over the water.

Shick-Shack saw an otter swimming by, and he said to the otter, “Have you seen any land?”

“No, I haven’t,” said the otter.

“Go and find some,” said Shick-Shack.

So the otter swam down into the water, and when she came back she said, “There is none.”

Shick-Shack saw a rat swimming by, and he said to the rat, “Have you seen any land?”

“No, I haven’t,” said the rat.

“Go and find some,” said Shick-Shack.

So the rat swam down into the water, and when she came back she said, “There is none.”

“Show me your paw,” said Shick-Shack.

The rat showed him her paw. And there were three grains of sand in it.

Shick-Shack put the three grains of sand on the water, and took some ants from the branches of the raft, and he said to the ants, “Walk round that sand.”

So they did. And the sand grew.

“More,” said Shick-Shack. The ants walked round the sand. The sand grew. Shick-Shack said, “More.” The ants walked round the sand. The sand grew. Shick-Shack said, “More.” The ants walked round the sand. The sand grew. “Is that enough?” said Shick-Shack.

So he put a wolf and her cub out on the new land, and the cub ran; and it ran and it ran, till it was an old wolf, but it never did reach the end of the land.

“Hah,” said Shick-Shack.

Then Shick-Shack grew an oak tree, and he lived there, in the oak tree, on the new land. And he was so glad, he sang a little song:

“Within and out, in and out, round as a ball,

With hither and thither, as straight as a line,

With lily, germander, and sops in wine.

With sweet briar,

And bonfire,

And strawberry wire,

And columbine.”

un-apu and Xbalanque were twin hero-wizards, warriors and mischief-makers, both the pride and the torment of Guatemala.

Vukub-Cakix, the Great Macaw, was nothing but trouble. He shone with the brilliance of gold and silver, and his teeth were emeralds, and he owned the nanze-tree of succulent fruit. He was a boaster, and his sons were no better. Their names were Zipacna the Earthmaker and Cabrakan the Earthshaker. The sons made mountains and then toppled them, and the father guzzled the harvests, so that between them they were a plague in Guatemala.

One day Vukub-Cakix climbed his nanze-tree to eat the fruit, but the fruit had been eaten already. He swung in the tree-top, screaming his rage, but the rage turned to pain as a blow-pipe dart struck him on the jaw, and he lost his grip and tumbled to the ground. While he lay there, winded, Hun-Apu jumped on him out of a bush and began to strangle him. Vukub-Cakix would have died then if he had not seen the pulp of the nanze-fruit smeared round Hun-Apu’s mouth. This angered Vukub-Cakix more than his throttling, and he swelled into monster-fury and tore Hun-Apu’s arm from its shoulder.