Second Treatise on the Lore of the Gitany

Over the past years, the Travellers have maintained an extensive collection of oral histories and lore (there is often no distinction made between the two) passed from generation to generation and family to family.

I had the pleasure of spending a good deal of time with one of these storytellers in the summer of the year 218, when the Kalderash family passed through on their way to the Yuasa territories, and in that time Kalderash Phral regaled me with several of his favorite stories. I hope to impose upon the kindness of my publisher to bring forth a collection containing printed versions of all that I heard; this is the first installment of what may be many.

Common themes in Gitany tales are Supernatural beings, death and the dead, and the cleverness of the Gitany as they outwit their neighbors.

The Sone in these stories often come out poorly. It is my suspicion that since our storyteller was in Touraine holdings, he may have 'fit the tale to the place it is told' - this seems to be a commonplace tactic in Gitany loretelling.

The taleteller (or 'Baro Muy') is always very aware of his audience.

Uncle Jannikki and the Radiance

Just before the harvest, Jannikki went to a Radiance in search of work.

"I'll cut you so much hay," he promised, "It will last you all winter!"

"Very well," the Church man agreed, "I have a large field of waist-high grass. Mow it for me and earn yourself ten guilder. Fair enough?"

"Done, your Holiness. Only it won't be a quick job. Give me a little food and drink to fuel my labors."

"Well, why not?" The Radiance gave him meat, lard, bread and ale enough for two days. And so off Jannikki went, tromp tromp tromp, food over one shoulder and a scythe over the other.

When he got there, he was dismayed to see that the grass was much taller than he'd been told. It was so tall, you could walk into it and be lost - grass over your head! So Uncle Jannikki frowned. And he chewed his lip. And he pondered, all thoughtful like. Then he smiled and pitched his tent, got a fire going and started to cook his dinner. After dinner, he made himself a pipe and calmly smoked it.

For two days he cooked, ate, smoke, and slept. Then, when he had finished off the rations, he got up and headed back for the manor, without a blade of grass being mowed.

"Right, then, your Reverence," Jannikki said when he arrived, "Let's settle up."

"You've mown the lot?"

"Every single blade cut and neatly stacked."

The Radiance handed over the money, counting it carefully. Jannikki paused, and said "I think you ought to throw in a bit extra. That grass was much taller than you said. If I had known, I never would have agreed to work for such a pittance."

The Radiance frowned and shook his head fiercely. "Oh no, you sneaky Gitany. We had a deal. Take your money, and may the Light shone upon you in your travels."

"Not another farthing?"

"No. We are settled, and have done."

Jannikki spat on the floor and said "Fine. If that's the case, then let the grass leap up and grow itself right back into the earth!" With that, he slammed the door and left.

The Radiance hurried off to the meadow, and sure enough the Gitany magic had made the grass grow back just as tall as before.

"Well I'll be blessed," he said, "I shouldn't have been so stingy. Now I'll have to hire another mower to do the job over again."

The Boy Who Stared Everybody Down

Once there was a boy who was so proud, he was determined to stare everyone in the world down. He began in his kumpania's compound. He stared into the dog's eyes until the dog's tail drooped and it scurried off under the wagon. "What a fine eye!" thought the boy. "It's afraid of me."

And then he went to stare down the horses. The horses turned their velvety eyes to watch the boy approach. He never turned his head but stared and stared until the herd turned away in confusion and clattered off to a far corner of the meadow. "They are all afraid! See them run."

And then he went to stare down his mother and father. At the table he glared at his parents until his father dropped his knife and his mother started to weep. "Why are you doing this?" they cried. "No good can come of so much staring." But the boy never said a word. He packed a handkerchief with a few provision - a loaf of brown bread, some cheese, and a flask of ginger beer - and went out to stare down the world.

He walked a day and a night and came at last to the walls of the capital city. "Let me in!" he called to the old watchman. "For I have stared down father and mothers. I have stared down a dog and a herd of horses. And I can stare down you too." The watchman trembled when he heard this, but he did not let the boy come in. "Stare away," he said in a wavery voice.

The boy came nearer to the watchman and stared into the old man's rheumy eyes. He stared steadily until the old man felt weak with hunger and faint with standing and at last the old man looked away. Without another word, the boy matched in through the gate and into the city.

He walked until he came to the door of Loreline's castle, where two handsome soldiers in their fine livery stood at attention and gazed into space. The boy looked at them and thought, "I have stared down a might watchman. I have stared down fathers and mothers. I have stared down a dog and a herd of horses. And I can stare down these two as well." The soldiers glanced the boy's way. He stared back. He stared and stared until a passing fly caused one of the soldiers to sneeze.

"That mere gitano has stared you down," whispered the other soldier to his companion, out of the corner of his mouth.

"The deuce he did," said the one who had looked away. And the two quickly fell to fighting.

While they were squabbling and quarreling, the boy slipped in through the door and marched until he came to a great hall. There was the Prince, sitting in his throne. The boy marched up to the Prince, who was sitting there in all his majesty. He stared at the Prince, and the Prince stared back.

As he stared, the boy thought, "I have stared down quarrelsome soldiers. I have stared down might watchmen. I have stared down fathers and mothers. I have stared down a dog and a herd of horses. And I can stare you down as well."

As the boy stared, the Prince thought "What a strange boy. He must be taken away." And he turned to speak to his councilor about the staring gitano.

"See!" thought the boy. "I have stared down the Prince himself! They are all afraid of me!" Without another word, he marched back out the door and into the courtyard, through the courtyard and into the town square.

"Hear ye! Hear ye!" he shouted to the crowd that quickly gathered. "I am the one who stared everyone down. I have stared down the Prince himself. I have stared down quarrelsome soldiers. I have stared down might watchmen. I have stared down fathers and mothers. I have stared down a dog and a herd of horses. I have stared everyone down. There is no one greater than I."

The crowd marveled, and the crowd made a thousand obeisances. Except for Jannikki, who had seen everything and who believed nothing.

"No good will come of all this staring," said Jannikki.

The boy merely stared at Jannikki and laughed. "And I can stare you down too," he said.

"I am sure you can," Jannikki replied. "But staring down a man like me is no problem at all for a boy who has stared everyone down."

For the first time, the boy looked a little uneasy. The Jannikki pointed to the sun that glowered like a hot eye from its berth in the sky. "But if you can stare that down, then I will believe your boast." he said.

"Done," said the proud boy, and he turned to face the sky. And all that day, he stared at the sun. And as he stared, the sun seemed to grow and change and blossom. And when at last night came, the sun went down, as it was accustomed to doing. Yet still the boy kept staring. The crowd shouted, the crowd cheered, but the proud boy thrust his hand into the air.

"Quiet, you fool! Quiet! Can't you see the sun? It shines on. I must keep staring until I have stared it down. I am the boy who stares everyone down."

The sun came up again, and the sun went down again, as it was accustomed to doing. But the boy never moved, The last time I talked to Uncle Jannikki, he said the boy was still standing there, staring.

Jannikki and the Dream

Once, long ago, Jannikki was hunting. And a rich Sone was also hunting. Now, Jannikki came across a rabbit, drew his pistol, and *bang* he shot it. The Sone, however, argued with him, saying that he had shot it, and that Jannikki was not going to steal it. The two argued until night fell.

Finally, Jannikki said, "I have an idea. We have a contest. Tonight, we sleep. In the morning, whoever has had the most beautiful dream will get to keep the rabbit." The Sone thought for a moment, then agreed. They went back to the Sone's estate, and he showed Jannikki a place on the cold hearth where he would sleep. Then he went upstairs to his soft bed for a good long night of deep peaceful sleep.

In the morning, they met in the kitchen. The Sone, looking very pleased with himself, announced that he would go first.

"I dreamed that a great staircase had sprung out of the kitchen, of fine marble, and it led up and up and up, to a most wonderful garden, where fruits sprang from trees and meat grew on bushes, and sweet wine flowed in streams, and the sun was warm and the grass was soft, and birds sand all day long." Then he snorted and said, "Could you have dreamed anything more beautiful than that?"

Jannikki frowned thoughtfully and chewed his lip. "Actually," he said, "I had much the same dream. I saw that staircase in your kitchen, I heard the birds, I felt the sun, I saw the fruits, and then I saw you climbing up the stairs. And I didn't think you'd want to come back. So I woke up and ate the rabbit."