Cadwaladr and His GoatSacred-Texts Legends and Sagas Index Previous Next

Cadwaladr and His Goat

CADWALADR had a very handsome goat named Jenny, of which he was very proud. Now
Jenny was a very well-behaved goat as a rule and gave no trouble, but one
evening she would not let Cadwaladr catch her. She ran round and round the
field, and though Cadwaladr was fleet of foot, do what he would he could not get
near her. Then she jumped over the hedge, like a hunter, into the next field.
When Cadwaladr went after her, she jumped into the field beyond, and over the
mountain wall towards the mountain. Several times she allowed Cadwaladr to come
close up to her and then darted away. The last time she rushed up to the top of
a high precipice. Cadwaladr, who had been getting wilder and wilder as his
breath became shorter, now picked up a great stone and threw it at the
exasperating animal with all his force. The stone knocked her over the precipice
and she fell bleating to her doom. Cadwaladr was now very sorry, and made his
way to the foot of the crag: the goat was dying, and licked his hand. This so
affected him that he burst into tears, and sitting on the ground took the goat�s
head on his arm. Suddenly the goat was transformed into a beautiful young woman.
Looking joyfully at him with great brown eyes, she said, "Ah, Cadwaladr, have I
at last found you? Come with me." He put his hand in hers and allowed her to
conduct him away. As for the hand, it felt just like a hoof, but when Cadwaladr
looked at it, it seemed like an ordinary hand though it was whiter and more
shapely than any hand he had ever seen before.
The maiden led him on and on, and Cadwaladr had never listened to more agreeable
conversation than hers. At last they came to the top of a very high mountain. It
was now night and the moon was shining. Cadwaladr looked round and saw that they
were surrounded by a countless flock of goats, and the din of a most unearthly
bleating arose suddenly. One of the goats which was larger than all the rest
bleated as loudly as all the rest put together. This one rushed at Cadwaladr
and, butting him in the stomach, sent him toppling over, just as he had sent
Jenny. Cadwaladr went rolling down the mountain side and did not stop until his
head went crash against a great rock. He fainted away and he did not recover
consciousness until the sun and the singing birds awakened him in the morning.
But he saw no more of either his goat or the fairy she had turned into from that
day to his death.

Next: The Fairy Wife