The Salt Krasnals Read online

  “This is ghastly news,” was all Gappek could say.

  “Maybe she’s not in the forest. For all we know she could be sitting by a nice warm fire having a cup of tea right now,” said Bulbek, trying desperately to look on the bright side.

  Skarbnik, never a one to stray from the truth, saw it rather differently.

  “I’m afraid I very much doubt if your sister is drinking tea by a fire. She was last spotted by a family of stoats, heading towards the White Forest. They tried to warn her but she continued onwards. The trees of that forest have long winding branches. They stretch out around the countryside gathering up any intruders who stray along its borders. I doubt if your sister escaped their clutches. She has not been seen since,” said Skarbnik gravely.

  “Oh poor Malinka! We must help her at once!” shouted Gappek, jumping down from the table.

  “Calm down my little chap. Nothing good is ever achieved in a hurry. Before you attempt to set off on a journey to find her, I suggest you listen to a few things I have to say,” replied Skarbnik in his usual manner.

  Bulbek put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  Skarbnik was standing over them.

  “You might not think this mine is very peaceful, but the world above us has been at war. It is still a dangerous place. Stick together and be careful who you speak to. You must head for Krakow and ask to see the salt queen who rules from Wawel Castle. She will know how to rescue your sister.”

  Skarbnik lowered his voice.

  “I too would like to see that witch removed. My daughter has lost the will to laugh. She is gloomy and grave and her heart languishes in grief, ever since—”

  Here the ghost broke off as if there was something too painful for him to speak of.

  They wondered why he seemed so unhappy. What had made his daughter feel so sad? Skarbnik quickly regaining his composure, said,

  “Now, my little fellows, there is something I want to give you. Remember to take it with you if you intend to enter that evil forest.”

  The krasnals followed the ghost through the kitchen and back out into the corridor which led from the lounge. Skarbnik stopped before a heavy oak door and turned the handle.

  “This is my library,” he said proudly, stepping inside.

  Gappek and Bulbek blinked in wonder. The shelves were lined with tablets of salt, for in those days paper books were scarce. There were cabinets and cupboards brim full of oddments: coloured gemstones, pieces of soil, solidified lava, dried roots… Skarbnik had travelled deep within the mine, observing and analysing the subterranean world and carefully recording his findings on blocks of salt. The krasnals also had a few keepsakes in their house: various salt ornaments and carvings of their favourite plants and animals, but they’d never seen anything like this before.

  Skarbnik smiled, noticing their mouths hanging wide open with wonder.

  “I’m more than just a card player, you know.”

  They stepped inside the room and watched as the ghost rummaged through the many drawers and cupboards.

  “I have a special gift for you,” he said pulling out a piece of rock salt in the shape of a tiny globe.

  “Take it to the salt queen. You don’t need to explain anything to her. She will know what to do,” said Skarbnik furtively.

  “Remember it is a dangerous world up there,” he repeated.

  The two krasnals stared at the beautiful gift shimmering on the treasurer’s palm. Then Gappek took it, handling the globe carefully as if his whole life depended upon it.

  “It is time for you to be on your way,” said Skarbnik, disappearing before they could say anything.

  Stubborn Old Fool

  Gappek was tidying up the wardrobe, checking whether any waistcoats, trousers or hats needed washing or mending before they embarked upon this big adventure. He could hear Bulbek downstairs still trying to persuade their elder brother to abandon his lazy lifestyle. It sounded about as easy as growing potatoes in the mine!

  “I know you love our cosy house, but can’t you see how important this journey is?” said Bulbek.

  “Travelling is for youngsters who have no commitments. No soft duvet, no regular meals – forget it!” grumbled Hrapek.

  “I don’t know about any commitments of yours. Besides we’ve been stuck in here for ages,” urged Bulbek.

  Hrapek closed his eyes and recalled the number of wonderful snoozes, warm cups of tea and good conversations the four of them had enjoyed in this house. It would be a wrench to let it all go.

  He loved his sleep but only really enjoyed it because he knew that his brothers were pottering about their business.

  Bulbek shrugged his shoulders. This was harder than mining rock salt!

  They sat by the fire in the evening drinking lemon tea with honey, having packed a medium-sized bag with essential items: a miniature pan for cooking food on a fire, two straw carry mats, little blankets for sleeping outdoors, an extra strong rope, a tiny penknife and some spicy poppy-seed biscuits in case they got hungry.

  “You won’t get far on that,” said Hrapek, inspecting the bag.

  “We’ve got to carry it, so we’re travelling light. Besides why are you worrying, you’re not embarking upon this journey,” said Bulbek.

  Before an argument could break out, Gappek stepped in.

  “Don’t forget we have got to take Skarbnik’s little present with us,” he said, pulling the salt globe from his pocket.

  “What is that thing?” asked Hrapek contemptuously.

  “It’s a globe made of salt,” replied Gappek, his face lighting up in excitement.

  “But what’s the use of that?” Hrapek continued.

  Bulbek peered eagerly into the surface.

  “Pretty, isn’t it. Skarbnik just told us to take it to the salt queen. It’s probably a good luck charm.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” snapped Hrapek impatiently.

  Gappek and Bulbek looked at their brother hopefully.

  “Are you sure we can’t change your mind?” they insisted.

  Hrapek coughed.

  “As sure as I’ll ever be.”

  And that was it. The two travellers sat down to their last meal in the house for a while, slept in their cosy bunks and set out by first light on their long journey to see the salt queen in Krakow, not really knowing what to expect.

  Hrapek did not watch them go. He did not wave or wish them luck. He didn’t even cry. Instead he just buried his head in the blanket when he heard them wake and pretended to sleep on.

  By the time he was fully awake, they must have been long gone. Away up over the staircase. Through the hillside and out into the pine and gorse bushes which grew on the gentle tree-covered slopes.

  Hrapek skipped breakfast. He didn’t have any appetite for it. The house felt empty without the sound of Gappek sweeping the floor with the pine needle broom or Bulbek stuffing himself with a large pie. He thought he could hear horses whinnying and wheels turning, but that was only giving the poor krasnal a terrible headache. By the end of this first miserable day on his own, he was beginning to wish he hadn’t been so stubborn. Gloomily, he made himself a quick light supper of scrambled eggs and turned in early.

  Fire in the Forest

  Gappek and Bulbek crept all the way along the passage which linked their house to the world outside, climbing the winding stairway towards the grass. They fell quiet, consumed only by the thought of seeing the earth again. What must it have been like to spend your entire life below ground, cut off from the blue sky, the lofty mountains, the leafy trees and all the plants and animals which make this world so unique? It was not that the two brothers didn’t like their cosy salt house hidden away in the mine, with its crackling fire and snug beds, but just as foxes, rabbits and badgers come out of their burrows, so did the krasnals.

  They hoisted the secret door aside, letting the bright light flood momentarily into the gloomy darkness of the winding passage. Then stepping outside, carefully secured the rock, repla
cing the moss and stones around the edges to disguise the secret entrance and stood panting, their heads looking up to the great sky arched overhead.

  “It’s incredible,” whispered Gappek opening his mouth in amazement.

  “Just imagine if we could fly up there and travel between those white clouds through that blue tunnel,” uttered Bulbek, as if he was dreaming.

  “It does seem amazing, but I think I would rather have my feet upon the ground,” mused Gappek.

  A gentle breeze was blowing through the trees. Branches were swaying in the pine forest which sprouted up from the soil like hairs on a giant’s cheek. It was here they had found the wood for the furniture they needed in their house. Among these trees they foraged for puffballs, truffles, chanterelles, wild strawberries, bilberries and various herbs, to keep the cupboards well stocked for winter. But turning their eyes from the blue sky to the earth, they were confronted with a very unsettling view.

  “Bulbek! Look! There is smoke rising from the forest!”

  Krasnals can move fast if they want to. A faint breeze was blowing from the north and it wasn’t long before they began to detect the smell of acrid smoke in the air. The ground between the mine and the pine forest was damp and mossy, but soft underfoot. They jumped over grassy hillocks, rolling and tripping, olive green trousers spattered with mud and black boots dipping in and out of the soggy earth. By the time they arrived at the path leading to the forest, Bulbek was panting and his round face glowed bright red.

  “Wait…” he puffed, grabbing his blue hat (a bright, cheerful, little cone-shaped one, which the krasnals were so fond of wearing) and pulling it off, so that the air could get to his thick yellow locks. But Gappek had already darted into the trees and was marching towards the source of the black smoke.

  “Who did this? Bulbek… Bulbek quick!” exclaimed the horrified krasnal.

  Bulbek was still a way off, using what little strength he had left to plod his way towards the fire, but he could hear his brother’s frantic voice on the breeze and he was beginning to wish Gappek had been a bit more discreet.

  “Gappek!” he hissed, as he drew closer. “Keep your voice down. Whoever did this was clearly bigger than us!”

  Beyond the stump of one of the trees a shrill whistle went up. The two krasnals swung round and came face to face with a funny looking little creature with dry moss for hair, carrying an elegant cane made from the finest pine wood. There were stories circulating among krasnals that lots of these forest inhabitants often had a storehouse of marvellous things to eat. If they were lucky breakfast might not be far away.

  “Good morning,” said Bulbek out of politeness.

  But before another word could be spoken the creature grabbed both brothers by their elbows and marched them hastily down a deserted tree trunk, which they soon found disguised the entrance to a rather cosy looking house. The creature kept up his silence all the way down the stairs, despite the krasnals’ desire to know what was going on.

  “Who was it love?” a little voice called out, once they were inside.

  “Just a couple of nosy krasnals.”

  Gappek felt offended.

  “Nosy krasnals indeed! We’re not on holiday! I’ll have you know that we are looking for—” but the creature cut him off in mid sentence.

  “Blundering into the forest and shouting your heads off! You don’t know what dangers could be lurking in a place like this. A one-eyed monster has been seen in these parts,” said the strange little creature turning to his wife who had just joined them from the kitchen.

  “Mossypot’s right. I’ll never forget that horrible gleaming eye sticking out of the centre of its head!” she added.

  “It lit a fire here and burned the trees to cinders. I thought the end of the world had come!” recounted Mossypot sadly.

  Gappek and Bulbek went pale. The prospects for their journey had just taken a turn for the worse.

  “But we must get to Krakow! We need to find the salt queen and ask her how we can rescue someone from the White Forest,” they explained.

  “Well, it sounds like a perilous quest. I wouldn’t go to the salt queen, or that strange city where she lives. And as for the White Forest, well no one comes out of there alive!”

  “My husband’s right. Wouldn’t you fellows do better to turn back while you’re still in one piece. Go back to your salt mine and live quietly while you can,” said Mossypot’s wife sounding rather concerned.

  “The mine is too noisy since those giants found it. They’re picking it clean. Soon I doubt if there will be much salt left!” said Bulbek in desperation.

  “And you think this salt queen will listen to you. A couple of pint-pot krasnals,” said Mrs Mossypot.

  “But did any krasnals pass through this forest?” asked Gappek hopefully.

  “Let’s have breakfast,” said Mossypot’s wife dismissively.

  “We’ll tell you what we know over a nut cutlet.”

  They followed their hosts into a room where the walls and floors were made of bark.

  Gappek and Bulbek had wolfed down two each before Mossypot had spoken again.

  “Well now,” said Mrs Mossypot, pushing another plate of cutlets into the centre of the table,

  “A krasnal passed this way some time ago. It was autumn and I was baking some hazelnut biscuits, when I spotted this creature with red curls and rings in her ears. That’s a fair krasnal if ever I saw one, I said to my husband. Isn’t that right dear?” said the wife, adjusting her straw pinafore.

  “Right as day. Wandering around the forest she was. Asked me if we knew of anywhere comfortable to stay. Not in this forest, I said. Well she just sniffed haughtily and said she was ‘going north’.”

  Gappek jumped off his seat, “So she’s alive then!”

  “Was alive,” said Mossypot. “This happened a long time ago and there are many bad things in the north.”

  Bulbek missed this part of the conversation as he was beginning to feel a bit sleepy. He rubbed his stomach and stretched his feet towards the crackling hearth. He had had one nut cutlet too many and the roaring fire coupled with Mossypot’s rather comfortable duck feather cushion was adding to the difficulty he was having keeping his eyelids open.

  “But you have no proof that she is not alive,” insisted Gappek, who was too busy talking to notice his sleepy brother, until Bulbek’s loud snoring reverberated around the room.

  “Help yourself to another cutlet and let him be. You fellows are going to need all the strength you can get. The road north is a long one,” said Mossypot’s wife, who was used to her moss-haired husband snoring his head off through the night.

  Gappek gave in. You didn’t argue with females. He only had to think of his self-willed sister. And besides although they hadn’t got very far yet, they had at least had some encouraging news and that was something.

  “I’ll walk you to the edge of the forest if you like,” said Mossypot. “We can follow the path after dark. You’ll be safer having me as your guide. I know this forest inside out.”

  The Yew Tree

  As darkness fell, and the pale yellow moon stared down like an eye into the trees, Mossypot dusted his cucumber green jacket with a brush made from thistles and prepared to escort his two guests through the forest. He picked up his pine wood stick and closed the door of the bark house quietly behind him.

  “My legs are not as good as they used to be,” Mossypot explained, “besides I find a good strong stick keeps the wolves at bay!”

  The two krasnals recalled how hasty he had been on the previous evening. He certainly hadn’t come across as an old codger!

  Behind them the awful smell was lingering in the forest air. The orange embers glowed; a reminder that they had now left the comfort of the bark house under the tree and were once more in the dangerous world above.

  “Do you think we will see any one-eyed monsters?” asked Gappek nervously.

  Mossypot scratched his head.

  “Who knows? But if you
do, stay out of their way my little fellows.”

  “Can’t we talk of something happier, like Mrs Mossypot’s hazelnut biscuits!” said Bulbek trying not to think of the dangers they faced.

  Mossypot sighed.

  “If only that’s all we needed to worry about!”

  They walked in silence for a while, listening to the nocturnal sounds of the dark forest: the dull tap of Mossypot’s stick against the dry needles; the distant hoot of an old owl keeping watch; the gentle scuffle of feet as a wily stoat went hunting.

  The first rays of dawn light were creeping towards the forest, waiting to spring up into the darkness between the trees. Gappek and Bulbek could see the faint outline of a grassy hill in the distance and beyond that they imagined their path winding its way to the great city of Krakow.

  Mossypot stopped to lean on his staff.

  “This is as far as I go… Well good luck my little fellows. You are going to need it.”

  Gappek didn’t know why, but he felt a bit sad and lonely at the thought of saying goodbye. All sorts of worries began to creep into his mind, as if the heavy weight of responsibility had been put back squarely upon his shoulders and the wise, shrewd Mossypot would have been someone to turn to if they ever got into trouble.

  “Goodbye. Hope we will have the pleasure of your company again one day. Give our regards to your wife,” said Bulbek quietly.

  “Will do.”

  With that Mossypot turned back into the forest and the two krasnals found themselves on their own again.

  They followed the sandy track stopping now and then to pick blackberries from the bushes which grew abundantly in the hedgerows. It was a pleasantly warm day for the time of year and Bulbek had already removed his hat and scarf.

  “Funny sort of creature, that Mossypot. Don’t you think Gappek,” he said, trying to remove a blackberry pip from one of his back teeth.