Once upon a time, even beyond the Peruvian Sea, there was a great sea, in the middle of which was a great island; in the middle of this island was a great mountain, and on the top of the mountain a thousand and one-year-old tree.
It had ninety-nine branches, on the ninety-ninth of which hung a cloak with ninety-nine hiding-places; in the ninety-ninth hiding-place of this was my brother Laci's ninety-nine-leaf Bible, and on the ninety-ninth leaf of this I read this story.
A biz a': Once upon a time there lived a very poor man, and next door to him lived a poorer man. One had a son and the other a daughter. The poor men got themselves together, and married the boy and the girl, so that, while they were at it, they could have two of a codfish.
A young woman once says to her lord:
- Did you hear that! Kied, it is true that you are not a Papist, but try this: fast on a Friday and see if God will give you something.
The Ephite man heeded the advice, not to eat a single bite on Friday, but God gave him nothing. "Well, God help him," he thinks to himself, "let him have the rest!" - and he fasted the second and the third, and at length he got so into fasting that for seven consecutive Fridays he ate nothing, but nothing under heaven. But God just didn't give anything for the seven days of fasting either. "Hm," he thinks to himself, "that was enough, if he had wanted to give, his holy majesty could have given!"
The poor man thinks and says to his wife:
- Do you hear, wife? Bake me a cake of ashes, for I want to go to God, and see where the fault lies.
The woman cooks, and the poor man goes on his way.
At noon we reached the Herecz forest. There he found a gray man with two oxen the size of a peppercorn ploughing through the ciheres fallow. He greeted him, and he received him. He asks where he is going. What is your business?
- "I would go to God," says the poor man, "I fasted on seven Fridays, and he gave me nothing. Now I want to know why he has not given me anything?
- 'Don't bother,' says the grey man, 'but I'll give you these two peppercorns, and you can live on them, just don't sell them to anyone, no matter how much they promise.
The poor man drove the two gift animals home, and the next day he went to the forest to hunt. He assembled the cart from here and there: one man gave the wheel, the other the rod, the third the axle, and so he put it together. Suffice it to say that it was as it was. But he dared not put more than two sticks of wood on it, for he trusted the oxen even less. But these were the trolls, and when he would have started, one of them spoke:
- Who put these two sticks of wood after him, my lord? Just load the cart so that it rattles underneath, for we are ashamed to go to the village with two sticks of wood!
The poor man waggled his head, but he got up the nerve to load the cart with as much as he could carry.
As they leave the forest, they meet the Count and the village magistrate. They almost fell over when they saw the two oxen carrying the huge cartloads of wood. The Count asks:
- For how much will you give me these two oxen, you poor man?
- "Not for sale, Your Grace," replies the poor man.
The Count is angry, and tells the poor man that if he does not plough the Herecz forest in one day, and does not sow and bury it, he will be without oxen.
Ah, the poor man is making himself sad! What can he do?
- 'Don't worry, my lord,' said one of the peppercorn oxen, 'just get the ploughing tools, and we'll do the rest!
Well, the poor man gets it. One gives talyigakers, the other ekekabala (ploughshare - the editor), the third eszteke (mule, an iron-edged stick for cleaning ploughshares - the editor), kurtavas, longvas, and in a little while he has made up the plough.
They go to the Herecz, and one of the oxen there says:
- Kied just lie down and sleep, my lord, we'll see to the rest.
The farmer took him at his word: he went to bed, fell asleep, and when he woke up, the plough had already been ploughed. They hurried home, and he reported to the judge that he had finished the work. The judge and the earl went out to the place, and went over the place, but not a hair's breadth, nor so many defects in the sowing.
- "Well, you poor man," says the Count, "if you don't get all the fodder I have, root and branch, in one day, you'll be without a fist, you know!
The poor man begins to mope, but the pea pod comforts him again:
- Don't worry, my lord! Let Kied lie down in the groove and sleep, and the rest is our problem.
One day they even cleaned up the place where all the fodder had been put. They put it all on a wagon, but they put it so high up that the poor man couldn't see over the top. When they got to the castle, the poor man came up to the count and said:
- Your Excellency, I have brought the fodder so far, but if you don't get the castle turned around, we won't have room in the courtyard.
The Count didn't even listen to him, he threw the poor man out so hard that his neck broke. The oxen saw this and moved one of the wagons to the castle, and it turned upside down. The Count was killed with a vengeance.
- "Do you hear, poor man," said the count, "if you don't take me to hell with the judge, you won't have a fist, and you'll see a mockery yourself! I want to see hell, what kind of world there is!
Hey! The poor man is pretending to be a boy. How can he take him there, when he has never been to hell! One of the oxen rings out:
- Never mope, my lord! You're both in the right place, and you're both entitled to it.
Then the poor man stood in front of the great whole cart, the count and the judge mounted it, and the two oxen set off for the hellish realm. When evening came, they reached the Sada (the entrance to hell - ed.). The Peppercorns ran at the door, banged their heads against it, and the Count walked in at a great speed, followed by the judge.
- Now, master, pull the door on them! - said one. The poor man did so, and the count never got out of the world, nor the judge. And the poor man with the two peppercorns lives to this day, if he is not dead.
(Elek Benedek: Hungarian tale- and mythology Volume 1)
