Here is one of the oldest tales ever told in Cornwall. They were also called stupid fairy tales there. And the cheerful old tinsmith from Lelant loved to tell it.
In ancient times, when Cornwall was still full of giants, not far from Mounts Bay there lived in a village a nice boy whose name was Little Tom.
He was a nice guy, but he didn’t really like to work. He worked whenever he wanted, but didn’t want to take up a permanent job.
True, Tom was not tall - we mean for those old times when, as they say, all the men in Cornwall were taller than each other - about eight feet.
But his shoulders were broad, his back strong, and his arms and legs seemed to be made of iron.
His old mother often told him to find a real job and at least earn his own living. Because, I must tell you, he always ate for two.
And then one morning, to please his mother, or perhaps because he was courting a beauty from Krolas just at that time, Little Tom went to Market Jew to look for work there. You understand, he couldn’t propose to a girl if he himself didn’t earn anything. First of all, Tom went to a man named Honny (short for Hannibal) - he was a tinsmith, and in addition, he also kept an inn so that anyone could come in and drink a mug of good ale with him.
— Do you need a strong, young and flexible worker? - Tom asked him.
“I’m very sorry,” answered Honny, “but I probably won’t find a permanent job now.” But listen! I need to send a cartload of kegs of beer to St. Ives, and you could do me a good service, and I will pay you handsomely for it. Well, how's it going?
They immediately hit it off. Tom brought out four paired ox teams, the owner himself helped Tom load barrels of beer onto the cart, and in addition put another barrel for Tom so that he would not get bored on the road and would treat the kind fellow travelers he would meet.
And, shouting to the oxen: “Hey-oh-oh!”, Tom drove out of the yard.
He drove and drove and suddenly - stop! A tall stone wall with a wide, strong, locked gate rose right in the middle of the road. You won't pass, you won't pass!
- Oh, worthless giants! No other way, it’s their doing! - Tom was seriously angry. - Well, where have you heard of this - to build a wall on the road! It must be that big Denbras! A giant of giants, a strongman of strongmen! Eh, yes, I’m also a good guy. Let's see who wins!
And Tom leaned with all his strength on the stone gate and opened it with one blow.
- Hey, let's go! - Tom shouted to the oxen. - Hey! And the cart with beer rolled creaking along the stone slabs of the courtyard straight to the giant’s castle.
But I must tell you that by that time the giant Denbras had already begun to grow old and became deaf. Never in his life would he have heard the creaking of the cart if not for his little dog: she barked so loudly that even a dead person would wake up.
Denbras sat up on the bed, stretched, rubbed his eyes, and then went out into the yard. At first he didn’t see either Tom or his cart, because it never occurred to him to look directly at his feet. And while he was looking around, Tom managed to get a good look at the giant.
Old Denbras was at least fifteen feet tall and, of course, broad in the shoulders, but rather thick. The reason for this is gluttony and idleness, so in his old age he developed a paunch. The hair on the giant's head stuck out like tufts of dry heather, and his teeth were ground down almost to his gums - all because he ate sheep straight with wool and bones!
However, Little Tom was not at all afraid of him, although he met Denbras for the first time.
- Hello! - Denbras roared, growled, screamed, finally seeing Tom. -Who are you, you pathetic little thing? How dare you come here with your creaking cart? Oh, no way, is this beer? Did you bring it to me? I didn't expect that!
“You can have a sip,” said Tom, “but I’m not bringing this beer to you, but to St. Ives.” And I’m driving through your yard, because it’s on the road!
- Oh, you impudent puppy! - Denbras got angry. “Get out of here while you’re still alive, otherwise I’ll break the bars and whip you!”
- Ku-ka-riku! Isn't it too early to crow, old rooster? - Tom answered him.
Then the giant became darker than a cloud with anger and, without saying another word, grabbed a huge elm, twenty feet high, and tore it right out of the ground with its roots.
But while he was clearing the trunk of small branches and twigs to make a real smooth club, Tom threw all the beer barrels off the wagon, took off one wheel - and he got a wonderful shield; He removed the large oak axle - and he also got a strong, smooth club. The giant dug for a long time, cleaning his “twig,” and Tom was already waiting for him at the ready.
“Well, hurry up,” Tom urged the giant Denbras. - I'm waiting for you! Here is my shield, and here is my sword! - And he shook the wheel and the oak axle from the cart.
Finally the opponents came together.
But the giant turned out to be completely clumsy, and besides, he swung his club without aiming, at random, from which Tom concluded that he was also blind. And Tom himself was much more agile. He worked his club so deftly that the poor giant was completely out of breath.
Tom could have wounded Denbras long ago with the sharp end of an oak axle, but every time he felt sorry for the old man. And he only reflected with his wheel the blows of the giant’s twenty-foot club. Poor Denbras kept hitting wide, and sometimes, missing, he fell flat on the ground.
But Tom nobly gave him his hand to make it easier for the old man to get up, and even brought him a keg of ale to strengthen his strength.
However, seeing that the sun was setting, Tom decided to tickle the old giant a little to make him move faster. And he, as it seemed to him, lightly poked Denbras with his spear.
But - oh woe! “Little Tom himself didn’t know how much strength he had, and he lunged too sharply.” The oak axle pierced the giant right through, and he fell to the ground like a fallen tree.
Tom was in despair. He knelt down next to the giant and tried to encourage him with words.
- Don't be discouraged, buddy! - said Tom. - You'll get better soon. I accidentally! Did I want to offend you? Who would have thought that you have such delicate skin!
But the giant only moaned in response. Tom carefully removed the oak axle from the wound and stuffed the wound tightly with pieces of turf, which he immediately cut. Old Denbras felt a little better. Then Tom ran to the cart, knocked out the bottom of one barrel of beer and brought it to the giant’s mouth like a mug.
- Drink, my dear, drink! - he persuaded the giant. Finally; Denbras spoke.
“Nothing can help me now, son!” - he said barely audibly. - End! Cover!.. But I died in a fair fight, right?
“That’s right,” Tom answered, almost crying.
- Well done! A true Cornishman. You fought honestly, and that's why I love you. It was a glorious and fair battle... My strength is leaving me. Bend down, son, I will tell you my last wish...
And old Denbras told Tom that, since he had no relatives, he made Tom his heir and ordered him to take all the treasures that he hid in the cave under the castle.
“Now help me get to the top of the hill,” he asked Tom.
They climbed the hill with difficulty, and the giant sat down on his favorite stone bed, leaning his back against a wide flat rock.
- Bury me honorably! - he said to Tom. - Here, where I am sitting now. According to the laws of the old people of our country. These are the stones with which you will surround me. I prepared a big koyt a long time ago. Bury me with honor and be kind to my dog!
“I’ll do anything, old friend, just don’t die!”
But the giant shook his head and gave up the ghost.
Tom blocked Denbras on all sides with large stones, folded his hands on his knees - in a word, he did everything honorably. And then he went down to the castle courtyard, replaced the wheel and the oak axle, which did not take him much time, brought the oxen and cart onto the road, locked the castle gates tightly and set off for St. Ives. He safely handed the beer to whoever was ordered and returned the next day to Market Jew along a different road.
It was a holiday - Midsummer's Eve - and bonfires were lit on all the hills.
In Market Jew there was dancing in the streets to the tune of bagpipes and drums. Honni, the innkeeper, was having fun with everyone. He was very glad that Tom returned with both the cart and his oxen in perfect health.
- Well done! - he told him when Tom had a snack and a drink from the road. “Stay to work for me for a year, I’ll give you a good salary.”
“I can’t,” answered Tom, “although I couldn’t find a better place.”
“Then why do you say no?” - Honny was surprised. “You just asked me for a job yesterday.”
But Tom did not want to tell what happened with the giant Denbras, and he answered:
“You see, during this time my grandfather, who lived in the mountains, died and left me as an inheritance of land and money. I must quickly go there and bury the old man with honor.
Under this pretext, Tom left his hospitable host and hurried to his beloved in Krolas. He told her everything without concealment; they got married and lived happily ever after in the giant's castle.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru