The Walking Stones
Near the little town of Plouhinec, in Brittany, there stands a group of huge stones. Country folk will tell you that they were put there long ago by the fairy dwarfs, who hid their treasure beneath them.
Many years ago, a farmer and his sister lived on the edge of the moor near Plouhinec. The farmer was very wealthy, for his farm was prosperous, and his sister, Rosanna, was a very pretty girl, courted by all the young men from the nearby town. However, she would have none of them, for she had fallen in love with Bernez, a young man who worked on her brother’s farm. Bernez was strong and handsome and he was a willing worker, but he was very poor. When Bernez told the farmer that he wanted to marry Rosanna, the farmer only laughed, saying, “Show me first your pockets full of gold.” Bernez went sadly away, for he knew that he did not have even a pocket full of coppers.
On Christmas Eve, the farmer gave a fine feast for all his workers, as was the custom. In the middle of the merriment, there came a knock at the door, and an old tramp appeared asking for food and shelter. He was a sly old rogue, but as it was Christmas, he was given a seat by the fire, and after supper, the farmer offered him a bed in the stable.
The old tramp settled down on the warm straw, and as he was falling asleep, midnight struck. Now, at midnight on Christmas Eve, all the animals in a stable can talk to each other in memory of the very first Christmas Eve in Bethlehem.
“What a cold night it is,” the old tramp heard the donkey say suddenly. In an instant, he was wide awake, but being cunning, he kept his eyes closed, pretending to be fast asleep, for he wanted to know what was going on.
“No colder than it will be on New Year’s Eve,” replied the ox. “Then the stones of Plouhinec will go down to the river to drink, as they do once every hundred years.”
“If only this old man snoring here on the straw knew what we know, he would be sure to go there,” said the donkey, “for the stones leave their treasure uncovered and he could fill his pockets with gold.”
“Little good it would do him,” said the ox, “without a bunch of crowsfoot and a five-leaved trefoil in his hand, the stones would crush him when they returned.”
“True,” brayed the donkey, “but even those would not be enough, for unless he offers a Christian soul in return, the treasure will turn to dust before morning.”
“Crowsfoot is easy enough to find, and a man who searches long enough may find a five-leaved trefoil, but who could persuade a Christian soul to die for him so that he could fill his pockets full of treasure?” asked the ox. Then the animals fell silent.
Next morning, the tramp was up and away at first light, searching the countryside for crowsfoot and trefoil. The crowfoot he soon found, but only on the penultimate day of the old year did he find a trefoil with five leaves instead of three. Then he hurried back to the stones of Plouhinec.
Beside the largest stone, he found Bernez. The young man had brought his lunch of bread and cheese to eat, and he was sitting dreaming of Rosanna and idly carving a cross on the stone.
Watching him, the tramp remembered that he had seen him at the farm. He remembered, too, how the young man had gazed adoringly at the lovely Rosanna, and an idea came into his head.
“What are you doing?” asked the tramp.
“I am carving a cross on this stone,” smiled Bernez. “Perhaps it will bring help and comfort to someone someday, but now it is almost time for me to start work once more.”
“Work,” said the tramp. “What do you get from that but an aching back? You will never make your fortune that way, but what would you say to having your pockets filled with gold?” Then he told Bernez all that the donkey and the ox had said, except the part about the plants and the Christian soul.
“You are a good friend,” said Bernez. “I will meet you here before midnight.”
That night, Bernez and the tramp were waiting on the lonely moor. At the stroke of midnight, the stones heaved themselves out of their holes in the ground and, with a mighty rumbling, made their way to the river to drink.
At once, Bernez and the tramp rushed over to the holes where they had stood and began to fill their pockets with the treasure. It seemed no time at all before they heard the rumbling again and knew that the stones were returning.
“Quickly,” cried Bernez. “Let us escape, or we shall be crushed.”
“Not I,” laughed the tramp. “I have the magic herbs to protect me, but you cannot escape. It is just as well, for unless a Christian soul is given in return, my treasure will turn to dust by morning.”
Bernez gave a cry of despair. He saw the tramp wave the magic plants, and the stones moved aside as they reached him. Then they closed together again and went on towards Bernez.
The young man saw the largest stone of all bearing down on him, and he was too frightened to try to escape. But as it reached him, it stopped. It stood there, protecting him from the other stones, which had to move aside as they passed him. To his amazement, Bernez saw that he was being protected by the stone on which he had carved the cross.
Only when all the other stones were in their places did the big stone move toward its own place. On its way, it came to the tramp. He waved his plants at it, but because of the cross carved on its side, the plants no longer had their magic power, and the stone went on, unheeding, crushing the tramp.
Bernez ran back home as fast as he could, trembling with fear, but next morning he had pockets full of gold to show the farmer, and the wedding was arranged at once.