The Lady-Pigeon and Her Comb

The Lady-Pigeon and Her Comb

Long ago in the Basque country, among green hills and wooded valleys, a poor widow lived with her son. They had a small cottage, a few plain belongings, and very little money. The boy watched his mother count their last coins day after day, and one morning he said, “Mother, I am going to look for work. I do not want us to spend all our lives worrying over what we lack.”

His mother hated to see him go so far away, but she knew that her son was grown. She gave him bread for the road, embraced him, and begged him never to forget the way home.

The young man travelled through villages, meadows, and deep forest. Toward evening he saw a great old castle standing among the trees. Its door was opened by a gloomy, one-eyed giant, a Tartaro of the old Basque tales.

“What do you want, little man?” the giant rumbled.

“Work,” the young man answered honestly. “My mother and I are poor, and I want to earn a living.”

The giant studied him for a long while, then nodded. “You have spoken plainly, so I will not harm you. I will even give you some advice. In my garden there is a pool. Tomorrow three maidens in pigeon-cloaks will come there. They will leave their magic garments beside a stone and go bathing. Notice the middle one. If she gives you her word to help you, she may become your best friend.”

The next day it happened exactly so. Wings rustled over the garden, and three white pigeons descended to the water. The moment they touched the ground, they became three young women and hid their pigeon-cloaks beneath a great stone.

The young man carefully took the middle cloak. When two sisters put on their cloaks, became pigeons again, and flew away, the third was left by the water.

“Please give me back my cloak,” she said.

“I will,” he answered, “if you promise to help me whenever I am truly in need.”

The maiden considered this, then said, “I promise. Tomorrow come to my father’s house. He will take you into his service. Do not be afraid of the tasks he gives you. I shall not leave you to face them alone.”

The young man returned her pigeon-cloak. She smiled, changed into a white pigeon, and disappeared among the trees.

The next morning he found another house deep in the forest. Its master was stern and suspicious.

“There is plenty of work here,” the man said. “Before noon you must clear a large plot of oak trees, prepare the soil, sow wheat, gather the harvest, and bring me a cake made from the new grain.”

The young man stared at him. “Before noon?”

“Before noon.”

He went into the forest and sat down on a stump. Ten strong men could not have done such work in a whole day.

But soon the Lady-Pigeon appeared.

“Why are you so sad? I gave you my word.”

She drew out a little comb. “Close your eyes, and do not peek.”

The comb flew into the air like a silver bird. Branches whispered. The oaks moved aside, the logs arranged themselves in tidy stacks, and the earth became soft and level. The comb flashed a second time, and green shoots covered the field. It flashed a third time, and the wheat stood ripe. The grain was ground, and on a warm stone lay a fragrant little cake.

“Run,” said the maiden. “Noon is near.”

The master could scarcely believe what he saw. The next day he invented another trial.

“In the far river lies a ring I have lost,” he said. “Bring it to me before noon.”

The young man reached the river and did not know where to begin. The water was deep and the current swift.

Once again the Lady-Pigeon came to him. “Do not be afraid. There is an old path of magic to the ring, but we shall use it carefully.”

She touched the water with her comb. Her shape scattered into a thousand silver drops that spun in the current. A moment later the water shone, and she stood safely on the bank again, holding the ring in her palm.

“Here it is. Now hurry.”

The young man brought the ring back in time.

Then the master ordered him to tame a high-spirited horse and three young mares. The Lady-Pigeon warned him, “This is magic too. Do not hurt the animals. Show them that you are not frightened, and speak calmly and firmly.”

So he did. At first the horse snorted and stamped, but the young man did not retreat. He held out his hand and spoke softly. Before long the animal allowed itself to be saddled. The three mares grew calm in the same way.

At last the master understood that an ordinary servant could not have managed so many impossible things without help. But instead of growing angry, he said, “You have shown courage and good sense. Choose one of my three daughters for your wife. But you must keep your eyes closed.”

Before the test, the Lady-Pigeon whispered, “I will touch your palm twice. That is how you will know me.”

The young man felt one hand, then another, and then a light double touch.

“This is my chosen bride,” he said.

And so they were married.

A few days passed. Then the Lady-Pigeon said to her husband, “We must leave. My father suspects that I have been helping you. Soon his anger will be stronger than his judgment.”

That night they slipped away. When her father discovered their flight, he set out after them.

“Look back,” she said. “Can you see him?”

“Yes. He is very close.”

The Lady-Pigeon threw a comb behind them. “Comb, lay a smooth road before us, and raise thick hedges behind us.”

At once a clear path opened in front of them, while tangled hedges sprang up behind. But their pursuer forced his way through.

The Lady-Pigeon threw a second comb. Fog fell between them; rain thundered down, and the wind whistled. Still he would not stop.

Then she threw her last comb. A wide, rushing river poured out between them. The stern magician had to halt on the far bank. There was no road farther for him.

“Now we are free,” said the Lady-Pigeon.

Before long they reached the boundary of the young man’s homeland. There the girl stopped.

“By the rules of the old enchantment, I cannot cross this boundary until a priest comes and baptizes me. And there is one more thing: while you go for him, do not let anyone kiss you. If anyone does, the spell will wipe away every memory you have of me.”

“I will remember,” her husband promised.

He hurried toward his village. But at the very first house an old aunt recognized him. She was so overjoyed that she ran up behind him and kissed him twice.

At once his memory grew clouded. He remembered his mother, his home, and his childhood, but he forgot the Lady-Pigeon waiting beyond the boundary.

Days went by. The maiden understood what had happened. She did not spend all her time weeping. Instead, she touched the ground with a little wand and raised a handsome inn beside the road, with a garden around it. Every traveller who came was offered supper.

One day three hunters stopped there. One was her husband, and the other two were his friends. The Lady-Pigeon knew him at once, but he looked at her as though she were a stranger.

The friends stayed the night. To the first she gave a magic comb and said, “You may not rest until you have combed every speck of road dust from your hair.”

He combed until dawn, but dust kept falling and falling.

To the second she gave a great basin of water. “Wash your feet after the journey.”

But whenever he washed one foot, the other became dusty again. So another evening went by.

At last only her husband remained. When it was time to put out the light, the Lady-Pigeon said, “Please extinguish the lamp.”

He did so. The lamp flared up again. He put it out a second time, and again it relit. This went on until the sky outside the window turned grey.

Then the Lady-Pigeon asked quietly, “Do you truly remember nothing? The forest. The three pigeons. The comb. The wheat field. The ring from the river. The road through the fog…”

Her words opened a door that had been shut in his mind.

“It is you!” he cried. “I remember now. I went for the priest and never came back. Forgive me. My aunt kissed me before I could stop her, and the enchantment did the rest.”

The Lady-Pigeon smiled. “What matters is that you remember.”

This time he kept his promise. He brought the priest, and after the baptism they crossed the boundary together.

When they reached the young man’s mother, the Lady-Pigeon touched the ground with her wand. On the hill rose a bright house, and a garden bloomed before it. There was room for the old mother, for guests, and for the white pigeons that came each morning to the windows.

The Lady-Pigeon kept her magic comb in a little chest. She seldom used it, for she knew the greatest wonder had happened without magic. Two people had learned to keep their word, to help one another, and to find their way back even when memory had lost the path for a while.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨