The most interesting fiction with which I have met, approaching in intention and construction to the German Eulenspiegel, is a legend current among the Wallachians, entitled “Bakâla.” The hero goes through a few adventures savouring much of the wily malice of Owlglass; but there are only thirteen of these adventures in all. The first introduces us to Bakâla, at the death of his father, who leaves a single cow behind him. The question arises between Bakâla and his two elder brothers, as to which is to become possessor of the cow. They agree at last to build three sheds, and, placing the cow in the middle, give her the opportunity of deciding the ownership. Bakâla builds his shed of a grassy material, which the cow perceives, and instead of entering the sheds of stone built by Bakâla’s brethren, enters his, and thus becomes his property. He then sells his cow to a tree, which agitated by the wind, appears to bargain with him. His brethren mock at him for a fool in selling the cow to a tree; and next day, when payment is to be made, the cow has broken loose and departed, and when Bakâla asks for the money, there being no wind, the tree is silent. Then Bakâla cuts down the tree and finds a pot of money in the roots; thereof he takes the agreed price, and goes home, and his brethren are astonished at his receiving money from a tree. The two brothers plague him until he tells them the whole story as to the treasure, which they go and take. Bakâla is then sent to borrow a fruit measure from a neighbour, who asks him what he wants it for, and Bakâla tells him that it is to measure his money. So the neighbour follows him, and peeps through the window. This is seen by the inmates of the house, and Bakâla is told to go and kill him, which he does; the brothers only meaning that Bakâla should give him a beating. When they find, however, that Bakâla has killed him, they are obliged to depart from that place.

An adventure by which Bakâla becomes possessed of a sack of incense, obtains him a gift from the Almighty (who, as in the ancient miracle-plays, is brought into the story) of a marvellous bagpipe, which causes every one to dance. When a shepherd the sheep dance; and his master, who is watching him, is obliged to dance also; and afterwards his master’s wife dances herself to death. Other mischief Bakâla also contrives to do. After cutting the tails of his master’s dogs off, and killing the youngest child by washing it and hanging it up to dry, the master resolves to depart; for he is bound by a treaty to Bakâla. But Bakâla gets into the sack, which the master prepares to carry books in, and is discovered at last. Then the master and his son conspire to drown Bakâla; but he overhears them, and the son gets drowned instead. Bakâla appears here to be analogous to the Old Man of the Sea, of whom Sindbad cannot rid himself. At last the contract between them, to the effect that either on breaking it should forfeit a long strip of skin in the back, has to be completed by Bakâla on the body of his master, who has broken it by the attempt to drown his servant. And as the master’s back is sore, he takes the book-wallet and departs. This story, as our authority, Schott, says (Walachische Mährchen, p. 362), reminds us of the agreement between Apollo and Marsyas. Then he sets a bride free from a disagreeable bridegroom by a stratagem, and after acting the bride’s part himself, escapes.

The last story in the series is worthy of translation entire, therefore here it is:—

“How Bakâla findeth a fellow, and thereafter is not any other news heard of him.—After that Bakâla had in such wise departed from the bridegroom, he gat, whence I know not, a sack filled with sawdust. No longtime had he journeyed, when he encountered by the way another man, who likewise bare a sack. Then did they greet each other, and after awhile proposed that they should change sacks. And so did they; then they hasted to open the sacks, and in that which Bakâla had received lay nought but flint stones, and what the other received that do we know. For a time they looked upon their prizes with great wonder; but thereupon laughed hugely. ‘Truly,’ quoth Bakâla, ‘we have beguiled each other!’ ‘That is truth indeed!’ cried the other. And great content had these twain one of the other, and embraced thereupon, and made agreement that thereafter would they journey everywhere in company. From that time hath no more been heard of Bakâla.”

Schott, in his work, finds analogy between the various adventures of Bakâla, and the course of the sun through the months of the year; but it is foreign to our present purpose to enter upon such a speculation. Yet, as a curious exemplification of the love of trickery to be found among all races, this Wallachian Owlglass is worthy of mention.