Whootie Owl's Newsletter February 2007 Scroll to Whootie's "New Story of the Month"!

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WHAT'S NEW WITH WHOOTIE   • Whootie Owl's New Story of the Month. "The Beekeeper & the Bewitched Hare" is a         folk tale with a touch of romance from Scotland.  Themes: kindness, love.     • Quick Click for Valentine's Day. A wide selection of love stories from around the world,         compliments of your friendly host, Whootie Owl.   • Kids Whisper to Whootie - Last Month   • Adults Whisper to Whootie - Last Month

 Whootie Owl's New Story of the Month
"The Beekeeper & the Bewitched Hare"  (from Russia, western Siberian)

                    ACROSS FROM A MOOR IN SCOTLAND there once lived a lad who earned his living as a beekeeper. He lived in a cottage by himself but wasn't at all lonely because he felt a sort of connection with his bees. In the spring and summer when the heather bloomed on the moor, the bees buzzed about with a satisfied kind of hum, sipping nectar whenever they liked, and he felt happy for them. In late fall when the wildflowers became scarce, their buzzing became more erratic and he understood their anxiety. Sometimes the lad complimented his bees on an especially large batch of honey, and they seemed to buzz about in pleasure and pride. Folks in town said the lad could talk to the bees. Of course that couldn't be true, but n a way he felt they knew each other very well.

                    One evening as he was checking his beehives, the lad was startled by a sudden barking sound. Two hounds came dashing from across the moor directly at him. The object of their chase soon became apparent when a white hare leapt out of the heather into his arms. Quickly the lad tucked the terrified animal under his jacket. The two hounds circled his legs, barking angrily. He picked up a stick and swung it around; eventually the dogs gave up and bounded away.

                    When the dogs had disappeared from view, the lad set the hare back on the ground and returned to work. But instead of hopping into the thicket, the hare followed him, twitching its nose and eyeing him steadily.

                    "Well now, you act like you want to be my pet," he said. He went inside and the hare ambled in behind him. "It looks like you're staying for dinner. Well, I suppose I might have a carrot for you." So he let the hare nibble on a carrot while he scooped some stew into a bowl for his own dinner.

                    When they had both finished, the hare jumped onto his lap and he stroked its head and ears. "Ooch!" he said with surprise. "I've seen black or pink eyes on a white hare, but how did you get those blue eyes?" The hare responded by stretching its back for more petting.

                    The next morning he took the hare to the hives to introduce her to his bees. He knew that changes can alarm bees, and he didn't want the presence of the hare to unsettle them. So he held out the hare for them to inspect, then set her down close to his feet. The bees dipped down and spun around her face but she didn't seem to mind. After they satisfied their curiosity and returned to their hive, he took the hare to the next beehive for another round of introductions.

                    One afternoon a few weeks later, the lad saw an old woman coming along the track across the moor. Thinking he might sell her a fine comb of honey, he met her at the gate. Before he could speak, she pointed to the hare peering out from behind a heather shrub.

                    "You don't see that every day," said she with a crooked smile. "A blue-eyed hare."

                    "Indeed," said the lad, turning to admire his pet.

                    "What do you want for her?" said the old woman said.

                    "She's not for sale."

                    "Surely you have your price. Now look at this bonnie piece of gold. It's not every day a lad is offered a piece of gold for a common hare, is it?"

                    "She's not common, and she's not for sale," frowned the beekeeper.

                    At once the old woman, whom the lad thought was much too old for such friskiness, sprung over to grab her. A bee hovering nearby gave a loud shrill, a sound that surprised the old woman and apparently alerted other bees. In moments a dark swarm had gathered and rushed to attack the old woman.

                    "Eek!" she cried, spinning around and running away. "You'll be sorry you didn't hand over the worthless hare when you could!"

                    The next day at the marketplace, selling his honey, the beekeeper shared what had happened with the young baker who tended the stall next to his.

                    "Surely the woman was a witch," said the young man, arranging his bread, potato scones and meat pies into neat rows. "You'd better be careful."

                    "Aye," agreed a seller of sweaters and kilts on his other side. "She was a witch and there's no doubt about it."

                    But the lad thought, "Then again, these two often think people are witches, and it could have been just a strange happenstance." Still, that night he barred his windows and locked his doors, just in case. From then on, he kept a close eye on his hare at all times.

                    The summer passed. By the time frost lay on the ground in the morning, few bees remained out in the cold air since most of the flowers had long since dropped. Most of the bees had already retreated to the hives where they began their cold weather work of keeping the hive warm enough for their queen to lay her eggs.

                    ne chilly October morning the lad was setting trays of sugar water inside the beehives when a gypsy caravan rolled by on its way southward. He waved to the driver and a young gypsy man waved back. Much later, the lad noticed a sack of grain lying in the road just past the gate.

                    "Ooch, it must have dropped from the gypsy van! They'll never know it's missing until they set up camp tonight, and by then it'll be too dark to come back looking for it." So the lad hoisted the sack onto his cart and took off, following the tracks that the gypsy van had dug behind in the earth.

                    In an hour or so he caught up with them. He hailed them and when they stopped, he handed the young gypsy driver the sack of grain.

                    "Do you mean to tell me you followed us all this way to return a sack of grain? Folks are usually more than glad for us to go, and to never see us again."

                    "Why shouldn't I bring it to you?" said he. "Or else I'd have to think about your poor horses missing their dinner."

                    Just then the hare poked its head out from under the beekeeper's jacket.

                    "And what is that?" said the gypsy lad. "A blue-eyed hare?"

                    "Yes," he said with pride. "She's a special one, she is."

                    "More than special, I'd say," said the gypsy fellow. "Grandma!" he called inside the van. "I want to show you something."

                    An old woman with a bright headscarf, long pleated skirt and puffed white blouse stepped out of the van. "Now what do you think of that?" said the gypsy man, nodding only slightly toward the hare so as not to startle the animal.

                    "Oh my!" said the grandmother.

                    "It's only a hare," shrugged the beekeeper.

                    "Not at all," disagreed the old woman.

                    "What else could she be?"

                    "Tis a lassie," the grandmother whispered. "A lassie who was bewitched!"

                    The beekeeper gasped. Then he spilled out his story of the two dogs, the strange old woman who had tried to grab her, the bees who forced her away, and what his friends at market had said.

                    "Your friends were right," said the grandmother firmly, "That woman was a witch. No doubt the very one who bewitched the lassie. And one thing you can count on, she will come back for the lassie. She's biding her time, that she is."

                    "What is she waiting for?"

                    "All Hallow's Eve, I suspect," said the grandmother. "She knows the bees will be back in their hives by then, and in all the year, that's the day when the magic of witches is most strong."

                    "What can I do?" he said, alarmed.

                    "Tell me, did you say you talk to the bees?"

                    "Not exactly talk…"

                    "Hmmm, however you talk to them, you may need their help. When you go home, explain to them that the witch may return. Before the sun sets on All Hallow's Eve, tie a good strong cord around the hare's neck and keep her on your lap till past midnight. Do you think this will be easy? When she's under the power of the witch's spell, she can pull and jump with a power that will shock you, but you must hold her tight. If the bees can help, all the better." The old woman sighed, took a deep breath and looked at him with her old watery eyes. "That's all I can say. Other than this, what will be, will be."

                    When the lad returned to his cottage, he carried the hare with him from hive to hive, repeating what the old gypsy woman had said. On the one hand, he felt a bit silly explaining all of this to a mass of bees. Yet by their collective sounds they seemed to murmur in understanding, as a person would do who was listening to someone else. And when the lad stepped away he sensed a building excitement from within the hive.

                    On All Hallow's Eve, the beekeeper tied a strong cord around the hare's neck and set her on his lap. There she stayed contentedly until the darkness settled so thickly that he could only see the outline of her white fur. Then suddenly the hare lurched so powerfully that he could barely contain her. She twisted with such a might it was all he could do to keep her from sliding out of his hands. Just as she started to wriggle free altogether, he heard a hum that meant his bees were encircling them. Closer and thicker came the bees, forming a tall and thick surround. The hare jerked her ears and twitched her nose. She flitted on his lap and hopped about but no longer tried to escape. Finally the hare settled down once more.

                    And then - the marvel of it! No longer was a white, blue-eyed hare on his lap, but a bonnie blue-eyed lassie! Quickly he removed the cord from around her neck. They laughed at the wonder of it, they did not know what to think! But as morning dawned, the bees were back in their hives, the birds were flying over the moor, and the lad and his lassie were in the cottage, making plans to marry.

This story is a sgeulachdan (skale-ak-tan) . A sgeulachdan is a tale that's told as part of the entertainment at a gathering such as a wedding or a funeral. Almost always the sgeulachdan had a theme for the occasion. The Beekeeper and the Bewitched Hare is a tale suitable for All Hallows' Eve, the holiday known in this country as Halloween.

SOURCE
Retold by Elaine Lindy ©2007. All rights reserved.

ANOTHER VERSION
"The Beekeeper and the Bewitched Hare," from Thistle and Thyme: Tales and Legends from Scotland (Holt, Rinehart and Winston: New York, 1962), pp. 106-118.

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KIDS WHISPER TO WHOOTIE
*from JANUARY 2007*

Klay, child under 13:
"A good web site for kids who like drama."

Sahar, age 10, about the story The Merchant and the Tiger and the Six Judges:
"I thought it was great. I love the story! It is a classic! Believe me, I would sail to the bottom of the ocean to real this!"

Hannah, child under 13:
"Why don't you get High School Musical as a play script? Everybody is bonkers about it and our school would like to do it for a summer performance."

Shelby, child under 13:
"I don't believe all the love stories! They're fascinating! You sure are good!"

Jasmine, child under 13:
"Howdy nice to meet cha!"

Julio, child over 13:
"Your stories are cool, I want to see more."

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"Cool."

Angela, age 12, about the story Fur & Feathers:
"It was trying to show you that you should listen what people tell you and don't be a snob about what you have because one day you won't and you will be sorry."

Shelby, age 8, also about Fur & Feathers:
"I think the mongoose was the hero in this story. He told the truth, even though everyone else was scared to. He also made sure he had a way out."



ADULTS WHISPER TO WHOOTIE
*from JANUARY 2007

Samantha Neal, teacher:
"I can't believe my luck in finding this, it's fabulous! I'm teaching English as a foreign language and the kids love performing."

Glenn Berger, teacher:
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"Very good source for kids!"

Tablet, parent/caregiver:
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Mikael:
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Hoots from Whootie Owl!
Absolutely Whootie: Stories to Grow By
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