The Salt Krasnals Read online

  He even began to wish Mossypot’s leg was better. It would have been nice to have had a travelling companion, especially someone who knew the contours of the country as well as the patterns on the bark wallpaper in his house.

  Darkness was fast approaching again and the krasnal was starting to feel rather peckish. All those lovely fresh and fragrant wild berries which had kept him going since he’d left home, were not enough to stop his poor belly from rumbling. Suddenly a little clearing appeared among some oak trees and Hrapek thought it would be the perfect place to stay for the night. The ground felt warm, as if someone had recently lit a fire. Hrapek climbed up into the nearest tree by the dim light of the moon and settled himself in the thick hanging bow of an oak, behind a clump of moss, at the edge of a row of little houses.

  “Things always look different in the daylight,” he muttered to himself and with that he drifted off into a deep sleep.

  When Hrapek opened his dozy eyes next morning, at first he couldn’t remember where he was. Above him hundreds of leaves were shimmering in the breeze and the warm sun touched the krasnal’s face. To his side was a dense network of twisted branches, like arms knotted at the elbows and covered in a thick bark skin. Within them the windows of the little houses were already opening.

  “Of course, I slept the night in an oak— ouch!”

  Hrapek let out a cry of pain. His back felt really stiff. Goodness me how he missed his comfy bunk bed. Breakfast! That was the next thing he needed. He could hear his stomach rumbling around – a noise which could easily have competed with those in the salt mine! Something rustled above him, high in the topmost branches. Hrapek tried peering through the dense green leaves, straining his eyes. There was something up there. Something which had cast a great shadow over the tree and was now blocking out the sun.

  What should a krasnal do in circumstances like this? Hrapek thought in desperation, but before any sensible solution came to his mind he saw a shape glide into one of the trees opposite. Sitting in the branches was a great white bird, with two enormous red-tipped wings tucked into its side, a huge yellow beak and piercing eyes which were staring back at the little krasnal, who couldn’t hide himself among the leaves any more.

  Never mind breakfast, if I don’t get out of here quick, I’ll be someone’s morning snack!

  The poor krasnal could hardly breathe he was so petrified and as he clambered down the rough trunk he scratched his hands on the wrinkled bark. The whole commotion did not seem to bother the bird who hadn’t moved. Instead it was still sitting pretty on a long branch observing the funny little creature from a height. Perhaps it was preparing to pounce. Or maybe it had already had a feast and was not interested in a skinny krasnal.

  Yes, that must be it, Hrapek thought. The great bird couldn’t be bothered with the effort of swooping on him. There wasn’t enough meat on his short legs!

  While he was sweating with fear, a sudden squawking sound broke the silence.

  “Calm down my little chap. I’m not going to eat you. As a matter of fact I’ve never tried krasnal, but by the look of you I don’t think I ever will!”

  At that moment Hrapek felt a great relief and was thankful he hadn’t neglected learning languages in his youth!

  “Well really! There’s no need to be so direct; I might be thin, but I bet I’m as tasty as anyone!” he exclaimed, immediately regretting his words.

  “That’s as it may be. Still I’m not interested. In fact I’ve been hoping you’d pass this way. There’s something important you need to know.”

  “Sorry. Haven’t got time to talk to strangers. I must run. I’m looking for my brothers you see. They are on their way to Krakow, to meet the salt queen—”

  “Just a second. Not so quick. I think you might be interested in hearing what I have to say. I have news of your brothers. But first let me introduce myself. I am the White Eagle.”

  Hrapek hesitated, but something made him stay. After all he ought to listen to anyone with news of his brothers.

  “Hrapek,” he said, putting out his hand, then withdrawing it quickly.

  The eagle joined him at the foot of the great oak tree.

  “Now, listen carefully to what I am about to say and maybe you will be in time to save your brothers—”

  “Save them! From what? Goodness are they in trouble!?”

  “Let me finish, before you get too worked up. Your brothers have run into a spot of bother as a matter of fact. The last I saw of them, a nasty looking ogre was leading them into a cave not far from Krakow. I hope for your sake they are still alive—”

  “An ogre! A cave! You think they’ve been eaten alive!”

  The eagle was beginning to get rather tired of these constant interruptions.

  “No, I do not think they’ve been eaten by him. Not yet. You see he wants that salt globe they were carrying with them. To the ogre it is just another sparkling treasure to add to his collection. I am not sure your brothers knew what this globe was for.”

  “Why do you keep referring to it in the past tense?” asked Hrapek impatiently, looking very worried.

  “I’m afraid it’s gone… Although they don’t know it yet. But I dread to think what will happen when the ogre finds out they don’t have it any more.”

  “It’s gone? Makes no sense to me,” muttered Hrapek nervously.

  “Well, I can’t stand here talking to you. I must go and rescue them,” and as the impetuous krasnal was just about to go running off, the great eagle caught his waistcoat firmly in her beak and pulled the horrified creature back.

  “I saw that globe slip from their bag. Believe me. I know where it lies. Let me help you find it and then we’ll deal with the ogre. It’s high time he learnt his lesson,” she whispered.

  Hrapek was still a bit suspicious at first.

  “How can I trust you?” he asked.

  “I don’t think you have much choice, do you?”

  The answer didn’t solve anything but strangely Hrapek felt the eagle was right. If he was going to save his brothers from danger, then he’d have to act quickly. It was all coming back to him now! He suddenly recalled Mossypot’s words about the wily ogre who foraged for treasure on deserted battlefields.

  “Which way?” Hrapek shouted, desperate to be off again.

  “The ogre’s cave is up over that grassy hill. Your brothers climbed it through thick fog. I spotted them dimly from the sky, but even my sharp eyes found that thick mist difficult to penetrate.”

  Hrapek was just about to race off. He wanted to get to the top of that hill as quickly as possible, but the eagle tugged at his waistcoat once more.

  “Will you stop doing that!” he screamed angrily.

  “You’re too impetuous my little chap. Your brothers dropped their salt globe near the top of that hill. I believe it must have rolled down here somewhere. We’d better search the ground before setting off in pursuit,” said the wise eagle calmly.

  Hrapek leapt to action. With his snubby nose to the ground he began scouring the earth for that precious globe. In a frenzy he pulled up tufts of grass, turned over mossy rocks, even crawled under a thorn bush. Nothing! No sign of the globe!

  “Look we can’t linger around here any longer. I must get to my brothers before that greedy ogre eats them alive! It’s too bad about the globe,” sobbed Hrapek, forgetting what Skarbnik had told him.

  “Well, before you go, I suggest you take a look under that fallen log,” said the eagle.

  In no time Hrapek turned on his heels and dived towards the log. He felt nervously underneath with a hand, touched the earth, the grass… his fingers found something smooth and round and he pulled it out eagerly. The salt globe! He had it in his little palm. He thought of thanking the eagle, but the great bird was beckoning him up onto its wing. Hrapek couldn’t believe it. He slid the salt globe quickly into his pocket. Then made sure it was buttoned up, but before he knew it, he’d been gathered up by the white feathers and was sitting with his legs dangling over the t
ips! He clambered further on, trying to get a grip on the wing.

  “I’m afraid of heights!” he shouted desperately, almost slipping off again. “I sleep on the bottom bunk in the salt—”

  Air whistled past his face and his grey hair flew back in his eyes. His voice was lost in the thunderous roar as they took off. The ground gave way. The grass slipped past and the hill shrank before the krasnal’s eyes, until he felt only the wind whispering in his ears.

  “Skarbnik?” he managed to whimper, but his eyes were closing…

  The Crystal Wand

  Hrapek was clinging onto the eagle’s wing for dear life. The wind whistling in his ears was turning into words. Soon there was only darkness and a voice inside his head…

  “The days in the gingerbread cottage were long and dreary and the little red-haired prisoner thought of nothing but escaping as she went about her daily tasks, looking for signs of a way out.

  Each morning on waking Baba Jaga ordered her pots and pans, cauldrons, brooms, brushes, spoons and ladles to hold on tight. She drew plenty of air into her cheeks so that her face could have been mistaken for a bloated balloon, then slowly let it out. As she did so the old cottage began to stand up. There was a loud creak, like a hinge opening for the first time in ages, a sharp snap at the knee and the creature felt the house rise up in the air. A mirror showed her how the building stood up on a hairy yellow and white chicken’s leg and was guarded by six black geese that slept on its roof.

  In the day the leg stood upright making it impossible for anyone inside to escape. Sometimes the cottage walked around the forest and there were days when she had even glimpsed the edges of the snowy borders from the windows as she worked. The White Forest, shifting and swaying like a restless animal, sniffing its way over the earth hoping to catch and imprison another innocent creature. The long twisted branches of the hypnotic trees, scooping up the soil like knotted and gnarled fingers.

  Once when Baba Jaga returned very tired she had been a fraction slower in casting her spell on the little servant, who had felt the cottage descend as the chicken’s leg folded beneath it and settled on the ground. Then she had seen the witch lift a trap door under the table and began to wonder if it was possible to stay awake at night and find out where this secret passage led to. For a long time she tried to work out how this might be done, until one day an idea came to her.

  Baba Jaga always used the wand with the crystal tip when she turned her servant into a sleeping statue. A small salt pendant hidden inside the creature’s orange blouse looked exactly like this crystal. If she could swap them over then there might be a chance that the witch’s spell would not work.

  One evening Baba Jaga was late returning home again. When the red-haired creature saw the crystal ball and its accomplices nodding off to sleep, as quietly as possible, she removed the salt pendant from around her neck and crept to the stand near the door where the witch kept her wands. Carefully removing the little crystal on the end of the wand used for the sleeping spell, she replaced it with the pendant, then waited patiently for Baba Jaga to return. Tonight, if her plan worked she would be able to stand in the corner with one eye half open and wait for Baba Jaga to go to bed.

  The key turned in the bone gate and the gaunt witch hobbled up the path. She watched her take out a wand hoping that the old crone would not notice anything unusual. But Baba Jaga was tired and wanted to get to bed quickly, so with a few words and a flick of her wrist she cast her spell upon the poor servant. The creature’s heart beat fast. She was still awake! Now all she needed to do was close her eyes and keep quite still until the witch was fast asleep. Baba Jaga pottered around, stroking her black cat and talking to the spiders, then she changed into her night clothes, brewed herself some garlic and hogweed tea and retired to her bed.

  As soon as the witch closed her eyes and began to snore, the creature searched the room by the light of the moon. She found the wooden trap door in the centre of the gingerbread cottage, gently pulled it up and quietly crept down the stairs which led into the secret world below.

  It was dark and cold and she began to feel afraid. Her bare feet padded softly down the stone steps and along a narrow passage. Suddenly she became aware of eyes peeping out at her from either side.

  ‘Hello. Is anyone there?’

  A few steps further and she reached a light. It was coming from behind the bars of a cage. She peered inside.

  ‘Hello?’

  Then she saw a thin shadowy figure hovering at the back of the cage. He held a light like she’d seen the miners use, in one of his hands. She stepped back.

  ‘Do not be afraid. I am a captive like you and all these creatures,’ said the voice.

  The startled creature looked back along the passage where the light now shone on the cages of trapped animals – squirrels, voles, stoats, birds – forest creatures which Baba Jaga removed everyday.

  ‘We have all been robbed of our freedom.’

  ‘But why are you down here?’

  ‘Long ago I strayed into the White Forest. The witch found me trying to help these animals escape from her clutches.’

  ‘She caught me aswell and I live upstairs.’

  ‘Listen, I have a plan. Wait until she returns late again. Go to her cupboard and add the powder of the poppy plant to her hogweed tea. Once she drinks this it will make her sleep into the morning. Take the bone keys from her pocket and return here.’”

  When Hrapek woke he was lying on the ground looking down a steep incline onto a dusty path.

  Coming to his senses he gazed around half expecting to see Malinka standing next to him.

  “Everything was so real… I’d better get a move on before that horrible old witch turns them to stone,” he muttered, then remembering what the eagle had revealed about his brothers, began the slippery descent down the gravelly track towards the craggy rocks below.

  A Little Warrior

  Deep in the ogre’s cave the two krasnals huddled together like mice caught in a trap. Candles flickered around the walls and water droplets dripped occasionally from the lofty ceiling. They had tried pulling at the rope which bound them to the pillar of stone, but it was held fast and their struggle had sapped them of much needed energy. All they could do was sit on the cold floor and wait.

  “This place is so big it’s impossible to guess where he’s gone. What do you think he is up to? We’ve been sitting here for ages,” whispered Gappek anxiously.

  “Where’s this feast of wild berries and succulent fruit he promised us? I don’t smell anything apart from damp mouldy walls.”

  “I’m trying to think Gappek… We’ve got to get out of here before we’re eaten alive! If only we had been more sensible… leaving our lovely home like that… the best place in the whole world!”

  But Bulbek, never a one to dwell on misfortune, was already casting around for some way of breaking free.

  “Gappek, you see that candle above your head? Do you think you can reach it?” He was measuring the distance with his eyes.

  Gappek stopped grumbling and looked up at a candle holder sticking out of the wall. There was enough give in the rope for him to lean forward and stand on tiptoes. As nimbly as if he had been replacing a picture in the salt house, he soon had the candle in his hands.

  “Quick! Pass it to me,” ordered Bulbek.

  There was barely time to think. The fair-haired krasnal held the rope in the hot flame and they watched as it started to smoulder and burn. Then in a few seconds the line caught fire and snapped. They slid out of their coils and scurried around searching desperately for their lost treasure. Behind paintings… in cupboards… on top of boxes… suddenly the ground began to shake… the ogre was returning!

  “We’ve got to find the globe!” whispered Gappek, but he knew it could be anywhere among all this stuff.

  “Quick under these earthenware pots!” hissed Bulbek, as they disappeared from sight, just in time.

  The ogre let out an angry howl.

  In t
he middle of the cave he spotted the burnt ends of the old rope and kicked them away in disgust. They couldn’t have gone far. He began prowling around like a tiger, using his sharp nose to sniff them out, above the bitter odour of scorching rope. Suddenly his enormous nostrils felt itchy. Something was irritating them. He managed to hold back a huge sneeze which would certainly have turned the cave and its contents upside down. The distinctive salty reek of something which had lived a long time underground, was coming from the doorway.

  The ogre crouched on his haunches, stumbling through the brightly painted pots and pans which lay scattered on the floor. In a moment he’d be outside ready to pounce. One, two, three…

  He reeled backwards, letting out a fierce howl of pain, clutching at his throat and toppling over. After a short struggle he lay motionless, a sharp arrow sticking out of his neck, crimson blood trickling onto the floor.

  The krasnals, petrified at the sound of the tremendous bang, now heard the patter of little footsteps and feverish panting. They peeped from the pots to see a little figure enter the cave. The creature was wearing a pointed blue hat and thin strands of grey hair were hanging beneath the rim. Gappek was the first to see him. Oh there was no mistaking it! No indeed there was not! It had to be…

  “HRAPEK!” they yelled and straight out of the earthenware jar in the corner of the cave, jumped Gappek and Bulbek, tumbling excitedly along the ground.

  Hugs, handshakes, laughter and hopping followed. Gappek had to rub his eyes for quite a while to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and Bulbek pinched his left ear to make double sure all this was really happening!

  The questions and answers were brief at first, just enough to give a sketchy picture of events.

  “Well I didn’t think you had it in you Hrapek,” enthused Bulbek pointing to the arrow sticking out of the ogre’s neck.