Sanartia
There was once a king who reached old age without having a son. When
he was very old, his wife at last bore him a son. The child was called
Sanartia (i.e. desired, longed for); he grew up, and became very good
and very clever, so that he understood everything that took place
among earthly beings, wherever they were; but he did not obey his
mother. She therefore hated him, and said to the king, her husband:
'Since this boy will not obey his mother in anything, take him and
throw him into the great deep sea.'
The king was much distressed, but he did as his wife asked. The
youth guessed what his parents were talking about, but he showed no
resistance. After this, his father said: 'Let us go and look at the
town.' Then the youth said: 'Papa, give me a little money.' His father
gave him money, and they went to see the town. When they arrived,
the boy bought a little axe, knives, needle, thread, flint and tinder.
When they were on their way home, they came near the sea; the boy
pulled up an oak tree, and carried it on his shoulder. The father
was the first to see the sea, and when they were on the shore he
said to his son: 'Come hither, and see what a big fish I shall show
thee.' When the son came up to look, his father cast him into the
great sea, together with the tree he carried. A fish swallowed the
youth; his father turned and went home.
In the sea, the youth kindled a fire in the fish's belly, cut caviar
out of it, roasted and ate it. On the caviar from this fish the youth
lived thirty years, in the belly of that fish. Then, his firewood,
flint and tinder being well-nigh exhausted, he made a very big
fire. When the fish felt the heat, it leaped up and fell on the dry
land. The youth said: 'I will cut open the fish's belly, and see--if
it is in the water, I shall sew it up again, if it is ashore, I shall
make a hole and get out.' He cut a little, and saw that it was on
land. Then he cut a large opening, came out of the fish, made a fire,
cut flesh from the fish, roasted it, and ate it.
Just then, there passed a prince, on his way to marry a maiden, and
he saw the other prince coming out of the fish. The prince who was
going to seek his bride, sent a man to the youth to ask him to make
way, for he was sitting in the road, and there was no other road for
horsemen. But Sanartia would not move. Then the prince himself rode up,
and asked: 'Who art thou?' Sanartia told him the name of the king,
his father. Then the prince invited him, saying: 'I go to marry a
wife; ride with me.' Sanartia agreed, and they went together to the
appointed place.
When they came near, they sent on a man to the king, who was master
of the country, asking him to give his daughter in marriage to the
prince. The king agreed, and sent to say: 'If the prince succeeds
in performing two exploits, I shall fulfil his wish; but to do these
deeds is both hard and perilous: the princess throws a great lump of
lead as far as a gun will carry a bullet, the suitor must throw it
back again to the place where the princess is standing.' The suitor
for the maiden's hand sent and said: 'I will do this.'
He went and stood in the place the maiden pointed out to him. She
threw a piece of lead which fell at the place where the prince stood;
he was not only unable to throw the lead, but could not even lift
it from the ground; then his comrade, the other prince, Sanartia,
took up the lead and threw it for him. The piece of lead went much
farther than the maiden had thrown it.
This exploit having been performed, the prince had another to do:
mistaking Sanartia for the suitor, they took him to a wilderness where
there was a castle, and in it dwelt Ocho-Kochi. [1] They opened the
door of the castle, and let in the prince, saying: 'This Ocho-Kochi
will kill the young man.' He spent that night in the castle.
When he was preparing to sleep, Ocho-Kochi came to him and wished
to kill him, but Sanartia was very strong, he seized Ocho-Kochi,
threw him on the ground, and beat him with all his might. When he
had thrashed him soundly, he said to him: 'Go and stand at the gate
as watchman.' So he went and watched till dawn.
In the morning, the king, the maiden's father, sent his vizier,
saying: 'Find out what the prince and Ocho-Kochi are doing.' When
the vizier came to the door, Ocho-Kochi called out from the inside:
'Master sleeps, wake him not, or he will beat me.' The vizier made no
reply to Ocho-Kochi, but went back and told the king what he had heard.
The king was amazed, he set out for the castle, and said to
Ocho-Kochi: 'Open the door to me.' But Ocho-Kochi replied: 'Master
will kill me.' Just then, Sanartia awoke, and said to Ocho-Kochi:
'Open the door for him.' He immediately opened the door, and let in
the king. Then the king and Sanartia went away together. The king
wished to marry him to his daughter, but Sanartia went away secretly;
he dressed the prince, his companion, in his clothes, and sent him
in his place to the king; as soon as he arrived he was wedded to the
princess. Afterwards Sanartia visited him as a friend.
If they had known that Sanartia had performed these exploits they would
not have given the princess to the other prince. But a handmaiden at
the court found out the secret somehow, that Sanartia had done the
deeds, and the princess's husband had done nothing. One evening the
handmaiden told the princess how Sanartia had cheated her and married
her to another man; she was angry, and that same night, after Sanartia
had lain down to sleep, she went and cut off his leg at the knee.
Sanartia did not die of the wound, but went away to another land,
and became friendly with a one-handed man, and they lived together
in the house of the latter. Afterwards they built a house in common,
and moved into it. Sanartia took a maiden, and kept her with him
as nurse. [2] The two friends went out to hunt, and stayed in the
forest all night. At home there was nobody but the maiden.
Meantime there came a demi, who sucked the maiden's breast and then
went away. When Sanartia and his friend came home, the girl told
them what had happened. Sanartia left his friend and the girl at
home, and said to them: 'If the demi comes, take him and keep him
till I come back.' The demi came, but the man was afraid to lay hold
of him; and the demi went away again. As soon as Sanartia came in,
he asked his friend and his nurse: 'What did you do?' They answered:
'The demi came, but we could not take him, and he went away again.'
Next day Sanartia stayed at home, and sent his friend to hunt. The
demi came that night also, but as soon as Sanartia saw him he met
him at the door, and when the demi came in, Sanartia seized him and
threw him to the ground, then he told the nurse to bring a rope, with
which he bound him tightly. He took out his dagger, and was about to
cut him in pieces, but the demi entreated him, saying: 'Slay me not,
and I will heal thee of all infirmities.' Sanartia hearkened to the
demi's prayers, and said: 'If thou wilt restore my leg which was cut
off I will let thee go, otherwise I slay thee.'
The demi pledged his word to heal him, and led him to a great river,
saying: 'Put thy leg therein and it will be sound.' But Sanartia did
not yet believe the demi, so he ordered him to bring a dry stick,
and said: 'Put this stick in the water, and if it becomes green and
bears leaves then will I put in my leg, otherwise I will not.' The
stick was put in the water, but it came out as dry as before.
Then Sanartia was angry, and wished to kill the demi, but again he
entreated, saying: 'There is still another healing stream.' So he
took him to the other stream, and as soon as Sanartia put in his leg
it was made whole and sound like the other leg. After this, he did
not kill the demi, but let him go free; he made the demi heal his
one-handed friend, whom he wedded to his nurse. He left them there,
and set out for his father's house.
But when he reached it, nobody knew him. Next day he secretly mounted
his father's horse, and went to the place where he had married the
prince to the princess. On the road he saw a swineherd; when he
approached, he recognised in him his old friend the prince. When he
questioned him, the swineherd replied: 'As soon as thou hadst gone
hence they made me a swineherd.' Sanartia drew out his sword, gave it
to him, and said: 'Kill all the swine but three, and wound those three;
then drive the three home, I shall be there, ready to punish anybody
who is angry with thee.' The swineherd did as Sanartia told him,
and in the evening drove the three swine into the king's courtyard.
Sanartia came to the palace earlier, but they did not recognise
him. When the swineherd drove in his swine, his wife was about to
beat him, saying: 'Why hast thou lost the swine.' But at that moment
Sanartia appeared before the princess, was angry with her, and said:
'If thou wert a good woman thou wouldst not make thy husband feed
swine.'... They knew at once that it was Sanartia, and were much
amazed, saying: 'His leg was cut off at the knee, how has he replaced
his leg?' Sanartia ordered them to bring the princess's husband: he
made her wash him well with her own hands, bring clothes, and dress
him in noble apparel. When Sanartia was leaving for home, he called
the princess and her parents, and said to them: 'If you do not treat
the prince as becomes his rank, I shall come at once, and it will
fare ill with you.' He took leave of them all and went home.
[1] Ocho-Kochi, literally, 'the goat-man,' occupies an important
place in Mingrelian mythology. He is a satyr, a wild man of the
woods, represented as an old man with a long beard, his body covered
with hair.
[2] The word translated 'nurse' is dzidze, which means not only a
nurse but any woman, married or single, who has been adopted into
relationship by the ceremony of a man taking her breast between his
teeth. This creates a degree of kinship inferior only to that between
mother and son. The custom still exists in Mingrelia.