THE KING OF THE CATS
Many years ago there lived in the north of Scotland, in a very lonely house, far from all other houses, two young men who were brothers. An old woman used to do their cooking, and there was no one else, unless we count her cat and their dogs, within miles of them.
One autumn afternoon the elder of the two said he would not go out; so the younger one went alone to follow the path where they had been shooting the day before. He intended to return home before sunset. However, he did not do so, and the older brother became very uneasy as he watched and waited in vain, till long after their usual supper-time. At last he returned, wet and exhausted, nor did he explain why he was so late. But after supper, when the two brothers were seated before the fire, the dogs lying at their feet and the old woman’s black cat sitting gravely, with half-shut eyes, on the hearth, the young man began to tell his story.
“You must be wondering,” said he, “what made me so late. I have had a very strange adventure to-day; I hardly know what to say about it. I went, as I told you I should, along our yesterday’s route. A mountain fog came on just as I was about to turn homeward, and I completely lost my way. I wandered about for a long time, not knowing where I was, till at last I saw a light, and made for it, hoping to get help. As I came near it disappeared, and I found myself close to a large oak tree. I climbed into the branches the better to look for the light, and behold! there it was right beneath me, inside the hollow trunk of the tree. I seemed to be looking down into a church, where a funeral was taking place. I heard singing, and saw a coffin surrounded by torches, all carried by—But there! I know you won’t believe me if I tell you.”
His brother eagerly begged him to go on. The dogs were sleeping quietly, but the cat was sitting up and seemed to be listening as carefully and attentively as the man. Both brothers found themselves watching the cat as the young man took up the story.
“Yes,” he continued, “it is as true as I sit here. The coffin and the torches were both carried by cats, and upon the coffin was marked a crown and scepter!”
He got no further, for the black cat started up, shrieking, “Good gracious! old Peter’s dead, and I’m King o’ the Cats!” then rushed up the chimney and was seen no more.