Atondido Stories
over the head.
"My head! My head!" the devil cried.
"My poor fellow!" the farmer said, pretending to be very
sympathetic. "I hope that tree as it fell down didn't hurt you!
Now I'm going to whistle again and you must be more careful."
This time when he whistled the farmer struck the devil over the
head harder than before.
"That's enough!" the devil shouted. "Another tree has fallen
on me! Stop! Stop!"
"No," the farmer insisted. "You whistled three times and I'm
going to whistle three times. Are you ready?"
The poor devil had to say: "Yes," and thereupon the farmer
began to whistle and at the same time to beat the devil over his
head and shoulders until the devil supposed that the whole for-
est was falling on him.
"Stop whistling!" he shouted. "Stop or I'll be killed!"
But the farmer wouldn't stop until he was too exhausted to beat
the devil any longer.
Then he paused and asked:
"Shall I whistle some more?"
"No! No! No!" the devil roared. "Undo the kerchief and let
me go and I swear I'll never come back!"
So the farmer undid the kerchief and the devil fled, too terri-
fied to stop even long enough to look around for all those fallen
trees.
He never came back and the farmer was left in undisputed
possession of the gold.
"I owe all my good fortune to my old grandmother," the
farmer used to say, "for she it was who told me to tie them with
bast."
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