Prunella and the Witch's Tasks: A Tale of Cunning and Courage

Folklore often provides a creation story for natural landmarks or plants. Since the eponymous main character of this story is called Prunella, you might be expecting a story that explains how those plants began to grow. But this is not a creation story. As you read it, think about the morals you pull from the fable and what might have been pulled from it in the past. How would you update the story today, and why? What questions would you ask of those you tell it to?

Long ago, there was a young girl who lived alone with her mother. Her mother worked hard to provide for them, so the girl walked alone to and from school each day. On her path to school, the young girl passed a wild plum tree each day. The tree was not part of an orchard nor fenced in a garden. It appeared to be a wild plum tree growing beside the road. Each morning, on her way to school, the girl would pluck one plum from the tree and carry it with her to eat at school. Each afternoon, on her way home, she would pick one to bring home to her mother. For this reason, her mother affectionately called her Prunella.

Prunella did this whenever the fruit was ripe on the tree. And the tree seemed to have fruit in season longer than any other local trees. What Prunella did not know, however, was that the tree wasn’t wildly growing. In fact, it belonged to a witch who used her magick to make the tree bear fruit out of season. The witch’s magick made the tree incredibly fruitful, but the witch nevertheless noticed the missing fruit and wondered who was stealing from her.

One day, just as Prunella picked her morning plum, the witch arrived to witness it. So, the witch waited, hiding in the hedge beside the tree. On her way home from school, Prunella stopped at the tree again. And when Prunella reached for a plum for her mother, the witch jumped out from behind the hedge and grabbed Prunella.

“Thief! I’ve caught you in the act!” the witch sneered at Prunella.

The young girl was frightened and began to cry. “Please, I did not know. I thought this a wild tree. I would never take something that belonged to another knowingly. I promise not to do it again.”

There was no pity in the witch for the child. Dragging Prunella to her cottage in the woods, the witch told her, “You will work off all that you have stolen, girl.”

The years passed, and Prunella grew up a slave to the witch, doing hard labor around the cottage. Despite missing her mother terribly, and the roughness of her life, Prunella grew into a beautiful young woman whose goodness and light shone through her eyes and smile.

Her beauty only hardened the witch more. The witch grew tired of Prunella but would not send her back to her mother. Instead, she decided it was time to exact her final revenge.

She called Prunella to her and handed her a basket. “Go to the well and fill this basket with water. It must be full when you return it to me. If it isn’t, I shall throw you down the well to rot.”

Try though she did, Prunella could not get the basket to fill with water. She sat crying beside the well, distraught that she would die without ever seeing her mother again. Through her weeping, she heard a voice.

“Why do you weep, Prunella?”

Prunella raised her head to see a handsome young man before her. She could feel that he bore her no ill-will, his face full of kindness.

“How do you know me, sir?” Prunella asked.

“I am Bensiabel.” At this, Prunella recoiled a bit, as she knew that was the name of the witch’s son. “My mother has mentioned me, I see,” Bensiabel said at Prunella’s reaction.

Prunella nodded.

“Do not worry, Prunella. I am not like my mother. I know she has given you an impossible task. Should I fill your basket as she wishes, will you give me a kiss in return?” But Prunella declined, as she did not trust him.

“I understand,” Bensiabel said sadly, “Give me the basket anyway.” He lowered it into the well, and when he raised it, the water did not stream out.

The witch was furious when Prunella returned with the task completed. The next day she called Prunella and said, “Take this wheat I just harvested. When I return this afternoon, I expect it to have been made into bread. If it isn’t, I shall cook you in the oven.”

Prunella could not grind the wheat, prepare the dough and bake the bread in so little time. But she bravely set to the task, weeping that she would not see her mother again.

“Prunella, I can help you,” said Bensiabel from the door, “Will you grant me a kiss if I bake the bread for you?”

But Prunella did not trust him and declined his request again. He took the wheat anyway and made the dough. Prunella was pulling the bread fresh from the oven as the witch returned.

The witch was furious and set a new task for her in the morning. “You will go across the mountains to my sister, who has a casket for me. If you try to run, I will take your mother in your place. If you do not retrieve the casket, I will leave you in the mountains to freeze.”

So, Prunella set off for the witch’s sister and, on her way, met Bensiabel.

When Bensiabel learned Prunella’s task, he exclaimed, “No! But you go to your death, for my aunt is fiercer than my mother. Would you give me a kiss if I tell you how to fetch the casket safely?”

But Prunella still did not trust him.

“I will save your life anyway, as my love for you is greater than for myself or any other. At my aunt’s house, use this oil to keep the gate hinges from creaking.

Throw this meat to distract the fierce dog that will come to guard. In the courtyard, there a woman is trying to raise a bucket from a well with her braided hair. Give her this rope. In the kitchen, a woman is trying to clean the hearth with only her tongue. Give her this broom. The casket is on a cupboard in the kitchen. Take it, and then your leave as hastily as possible. Do this exactly, and you will be safe.”

Prunella followed the instructions exactly, but as she left, she hit the table, and the witch saw her. As she ran, the witch tried to get the woman in the kitchen to grab her. But she wouldn’t because Prunella had given her the broom. The witch called to the woman in the courtyard to grab Prunella. But she wouldn’t because Prunella had given her the rope.

The witch next ordered the dog to stop Prunella. But he wouldn’t because Prunella had given him meat. Finally, the witch tried to get the gate to close Prunella in. But it wouldn’t because Prunella had oiled

its hinges.

The witch was furious when Prunella returned with the casket unscathed. She didn’t wait for the next day but instead set a task for Prunella for that night. “There are three roosters in the coop. One white, one black, one yellow. Any that crows in the night, you have to tell me which color crowed. If you are wrong, I will eat you as I would a chicken.”

Prunella could not sleep, frightened as she was of this new task. When the first rooster crowed, the witch called to her, “Which was that?”

Panicked, Prunella looked around and saw Bensiabel outside her window. “Bensiabel, can you tell me which rooster crowed?”

“Will you give me a kiss?” He asked her.

Her answer was still no. But he told her anyway. And Prunella told the witch that the yellow rooster crowed.

At the next crow, Bensiabel helped Prunella again, and she was able to tell the witch it was the black rooster.

When a third crow was heard, Prunella looked to Besiabel. This time, however, he hesitated.

“Can you still not forget that I am a witch’s son and see beyond that? Haven’t I proved myself to you?”

But Prunella did not hear, for the witch was coming near. She cried to him, “Please help! She is coming ever closer! I hear the gnashing of her teeth! Which crowed, Bensiabel?”

But instead of telling her, Bensiabel charged at his mother, and she fell down the stairs. When Prunella came out, she saw her dead at the bottom.

Prunella had the proof she needed and gave Bensiabel the kiss he had been asking for. She returned to her mother and introduced Bensiabel. They married and lived happily ever after.