Atondido Stories
“Do you see that blackish lump over yonder?” the ogre said,
pointing with his golden club. “That is the Glass Hill. On that
hill stands a tree. From that tree hang the Three Citrons which
send out fragrance for seven miles around. You will climb the
Glass Hill, kneel beneath the tree, and reach up your hands. If
the citrons are destined for you they will fall into your hands of
their own accord. If they are not destined for you, you will not
be able to pluck them no matter what you do. As you return, if
you are hungry or thirsty, cut open one of the citrons and you
will have food and drink in plenty. Go now with God’s blessing.
But wait! I can’t let you go away hungry! Hi, mother, bring out
the dumplings!”
Yezibaba set a large golden dish on the table.
“Eat!” her son shouted. “Or, if you are not hungry just now,
put some in your pocket and eat them on the way.”
The prince said that he was not hungry but that he would be
glad to take some of the golden dumplings with him and eat
them later. Then he thanked the ogre most courteously for his
hospitality and advice and took his leave.
He trudged quickly on from hill to dale, from dale to hill
again, and never stopped until he reached the Glass Hill itself.
Then he stood still as if turned into stone. The hill was high and
steep and smooth with not so much as a scratch on its surface.
Over its top spread out the branches of the magic tree upon
which hung the Three Citrons. Their fragrance was so powerful
that the prince almost fainted.
“Let it be as God wills!” he thought to himself. “But however
the adventure is to come out, now that I’m here I must at least
make the attempt.”
So he began to claw his way up the smooth glass, but he had-
n’t gone many yards before his foot slipped and down he went
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