This is post #2 of my penance after I have been blacklisted by Hivewatchers for plagiarizing.
No need to upvote this post, as the payout has been declined.
But comments are welcome. I will continue to upvote all meaningful comments.
THE SWORD OF SAINT PETER
Source
The boy greeted his mother and left.
The next day, the King of the Pagans said to the queen:
“Queen, what happened to the deaf and mute?"
"King of the Pagans, the deaf-mute has escaped from the castle. One day, someone will come and tell us that they found him dead in a ditch. It won't be a big loss."
This is what the queen said. But she thought:
"Patience! When my eldest son is big and strong, he will not forget what I endured for him."
For a year the king's son walked straight, always straight ahead, from sunrise until night. Finally, he arrived at the edge of the great sea, in Landes forest, in the land of pines and resin. There he entered a farm.
“Hello, sharecropper and company."
"Hello, my friend. What do you want from me?"
"Sharecropper, don’t you need a valet? I'm only fifteen. Yet I am strong, dexterous, and bold."
"My friend, I need a shepherd to look after a flock of three hundred white and black sheep by the great sea. If you do my business, I will give you your food and your maintenance, and every year I will give you twenty écus in wages.
"Master, I am your shepherd."
The next day, at the break of dawn, the king's son whistled his two great dogs, opened the door of the stable, and went to tend, by the great sea, his flock of three hundred white and black sheep. At nightfall he returned, carrying three dead wolves on his back.
“Here, master. Here is your flock of three hundred white and black sheep. The account is there. Here are three dead wolves. I twisted their necks like chickens. Go and collect some eggs and bacon, and keep a good portion for me."
The next day, at dawn, the king's son whistled his two great dogs, opened the door of the stable, and returned to tend, by the great sea, his flock of three hundred white and black sheep. It was summertime. Around noon, the boy lay down to sleep in the shade of an old oak tree. Hanging on the trunk of the tree, a woodpecker was desolate.
“Quiou quiou quiou.”
"Woodpecker, you’re breaking my head. I want to sleep. So why are you so sorry?"
“Quiou quiou quiou. Shepherd (in those days the animals spoke), I have every reason to be sorry. The hornets chased me out of the nest that I had dug for myself, in the trunk of this old oak."
"Patience, woodpecker. I'll give you back your nest."
The king's son struck the lighter, lit a handful of dry herbs, and smoked the hornets.
“Here, woodpecker. Go back to your nest, and don't bother me again. I want to sleep."
“Quiou quiou quiou. Shepherd, you have done me a great service. I will pay you according to my power. Shepherd, I know who you are. I know what you think about night and day. You think your mother told you: “Go travel the world. You will send me your news in secret. Find the sword of Saint Peter. When you grow up big and strong, don’t forget what I endured for you." Shepherd, I don’t know where Saint Peter’s sword is. But if it is necessary to convey your news in secret to your mother, speak, and you will be obeyed."
"Woodpecker, go tell my mother: “Your son is doing well. He keeps a flock of three hundred white and black sheep by the great sea, and he does not forget what you endure for him."
Source: L’Épée de saint Pierre, from the French book Contes populaires de la Gascogne, tome 1, published in 1886.
Source: L’Épée de saint Pierre, from the French book Contes populaires de la Gascogne, tome 1, published in 1886.
Hello, my name is Vincent Celier.
I am writing translations of folk tales that I found in public domain French books, so that people who do not understand French may enjoy them too.
For a year the king's son walked straight, always straight ahead, from sunrise until night.
The storyteller did not specify how he was eating, but this is obviously a detail in such a tale.
Assuming the king's son walks not too fast at around 4 km/hour, he would do around 40 km per day. So, for a year, he would have walked at least 350 days, and that would mean 14,000 km for the whole trip. The sea near the Landes forest is the Atlantic Ocean, more specifically the Bay of Biscay, known in French as the "Golfe de Gascogne" (Gulf of Gascony). Considering the geography of South Europe, the king's son must have started his 14,000 km trip from the East. Even assuming that he could not walk 40 km per day when crossing mountains and rivers, 7,000 km from the East would put the kingdom of his father somewhere in present-day Russia. This is not realistic, but this is OK because it is a tale, it is not a true story.
The Landes forest is the largest man-made forest in Western Europe. It is mostly made of maritime pines that were planted, starting in the XVIIIth century, in what is called the Landes de Gascogne (Gascony moors). Before the pine plantations, the land was mostly moorlands and swamps. It has been systematically planted with maritime pines, under the impulsion of the French government, who voted a specific law in 1857.
State of afforestation around 1850 (source)
State of afforestation around 1900 (source)
After his first day as a shepherd, when the king's son came back with three dead wolves, he said to his master:
Go and collect some eggs and bacon, and keep a good portion for me.
The author of the French book, in a note, explained that it was customary for those who killed a wolf, a fox, or another harmful animal to go visit their neighbors and collect donations in kind such as bacon, eggs, etc., and even sometimes money. The reason was that killing harmful animals was beneficiary for the whole community.
As I said, my wife Kati owns a small vineyard of 320 vines. We have made wine in 2020, 2021, and 2022. We will not make wine in 2023, because there are almost no grapes, as it has been attacked by a mold.
Last year, three of my seven brothers: Philippe (1947), Bruno (1948), and Jérôme (1960) came to Pécs for the harvest. We collected the white grapes and we made the grape juice to be fermented with a small manual press.
Ginning
Last week, I made 100 bottles of white wine and 91 bottles of red wine.
-- Vincent Celier