The Cobbler’s Son and the Serpent

Welcome travelers to another spooky tale to tell around the Campfire! If you missed our last post, you can read all about the Murder Maggot of Minnesota here!

Now, I originally found this tale in Ask the Bones: Scary Stories from Around the World by David Holt and Bill Mooney, which includes “The Tale of the Haunted Forest” as a folktale from Uzbekistan. However, after looking into the references and trying to trace its origins, I was surprised to discover that the story actually comes from a collection of Central Asian folktales compiled by Amina Maxwell-Hudson (Formerly Shah). Amina Shah was a storyteller and sister of the famous Idress Shah, an Afghan Sufi writer and thinker, whom we covered when we retold the Mullah Nasruddin stories!

Finding her book was another matter entirely (and one of my favourite parts of researching this episode). We’ve used Amina Shah’s Tales from Afghanistan before when discussing the tale of The Poor Prince, but her Tales from Central Asia proved much harder to track down, especially in the country I’m in. Luckily, the Internet Archive came to the rescue once again! The book is there, though mislabeled as a different text, and it took some digging to uncover it.

The differences between David Holt’s ghostly retelling and Amina Shah’s more traditional folktale are striking, though they share the same essential story beats. Our version will blend the two, leaning more heavily on Shah’s version.

Aminia’s tale was collected from the oral story tellers of Bokhara, Khorassan, Samarkand, Tashkent, Herat, Kabul and Kandahar. Some were told by dervishes in teahouses, shepherds on steppes and others in the courtyard of mosques. And now it has made its way to the enchanted forest. So, here is the tale of “The Cobbler’s Son and the Serpent.” 

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The Creature in the Haunted Woods

Once upon a time, in the ancient city of Bokhara, there was a haunted wood. Those who ventured into it mysteriously disappeared, and strange noises echoed from the depths of the trees at all hours of the day and night. With each passing day, the stories of those who dared travel through them grew wilder and wilder. 

Some villagers claimed they had seen giant footprints in the mud, belong to a beast of unimaginable horror. Others swore their clothes had been torn by fearsome claws. The rivers, they said, ran red with blood- yet no bodies were ever found.

Eventually, these tales reached the ears of the Governor of Bokhara. After hearing every detail, he concluded that the cause could not be some supernatural creature or spirit, but rather something more tangible. It was obviously a lion. What else could explain the prints, the claws, the roars that echoed through the night? So, he sent off his best hunter to capture the creature and put the rumors to rest once and for all. 

Except, the hunter never returned. 

All the Governor’s Men and All the Governor’s Horses…

Days passed, and the Governor sent two more men to find him and finish the task. They too vanished without a trace. Whispers spread through the towns about the missing men. Some claimed to have heard distant screams coming from deep within the woods. Others swore they had glimpsed a man running between the trees before being dragged back into the shadows.

Fear gripped the villagers. They began to bar their doors at night, warning their children never to stray near the forest lest the creature emerge in search of new victims. In his attempt to staunch the rumors, the Governor had only created more credibility to them. 

…Were Never Seen Again

When this latest occurrence became widely known, not a single soul dared go near the haunted forest again. Travellers were warned away and even the most fearsome warrior blanched at the thought of going near them. Even stranger, the creepy, bone chilling sounds continued to be heard throughout the woods.

Years passed in this state and young children grew up hearing tales of the haunted woods as if it had always been this way. Every now and then an unlucky traveler, forager or child would disappear into the woods.

Eventually, the Governor decided he could not have haunted wood on his lands. Surely, the creature, whether it was a lion or not, would be old by now and could be dealt with. Even monsters had to age!

So, he sent out a proclamation throughout the lands that the first person to bring him the beast in the woods would get a hefty prize. Still, many did not dare to risk their lives for a prize they would never see. What good was gold to a dead man, the villagers cried. 

The Cobbler’s Son

In one of the many villages scattered around the woods, there was a poor cobbler who lived with his son, Hasan. Hasan was old enough to remember when the woods were safe to venture through, but had since grown up with the same fear as the others.

His father regaled him nightly with firelight tales of shaytans (devils) that lurked in shadows waiting to snatch up anyone who wandered too near. He told stories of faraway lands where ghosts and evil spirits pretended to be lost women and led you into woods. The cobbler did not have much to offer his son, but he could offer him hot tea and a story before bed.

One night, after his father had finished a tale of sea serpents and was blowing the steam from his tea, Hasan made a decision. He stood, took his father’s hands in his own, and pressed his lips to them.

He asked for his father’s blessing.

The startled cobbler replied that Hasan would always have it- then paused, wondering aloud what it was for specifically. Hasan looked him in the eye and said he was going to venture forth to kill the monster. He wanted to be the one to claim the Governor’s grand prize and be the hero of this story.

“Go, my son. Take care of yourself and try your luck, but do not do anything rash or foolish.”

The old cobbler did not want to see his son go, but he knew he could not keep the young man strapped to his side in poverty forever. He had always known that someday his son would want more than just stories. 

A Fool’s Errand

The next day, Hasan set off. The palace guards knew him well, since his father often mended the boots and shoes of nobles. When they asked what business brought him to the palace, the guard nearly doubled over with laughter after hearing Hasan declare that he wished to speak to the Governor about the beast in the woods.

“What a hope you have,” the guard laughed, shaking his head. Despite his disbelief, he led Hasan to the Captain of the Guard, who looked at the poor boy with pity before taking him to the Governor himself. After all, the proclamation had said anyone could try and anyone included the foolish.

When Hasan entered the throne room, his eyes grew as wide as saucers. Everywhere he looked, something sparkled or gleamed. It was a splendor and wealth beyond anything he had ever imagined. He was utterly swept away by the sheer grandeur of it all.

“Speak, boy,” the Governor boomed, not unkindly. He asked who Hasan was and why he thought he was fit for this task when an entire troop of horsemen could not do it. 

Hasan replied boldly and proudly, “I am the cobbler’s son and I know I can discover and defeat whatever is in the haunted wood.” 

The Governor nodded and commended Hasan for taking up the mantle so bravely for one so young and beardless. He ordered the guards to equip him with a sword, helmet, chain mail vest, and shield.

Into the Haunted Woods

With great fanfare, Hasan was led out of the palace and through the town. People cheered and called his name, proud of the brave youth. Soon, however, the crowds thinned, and Hasan found himself alone on the path leading to the haunted woods. The air grew still, unnaturally so. It was as though the forest itself were waiting for him.

Hasan swallowed his fear and pressed on. His plan was simple: find a place to hide until morning, when the creature might be sleeping. But the woods were eerily silent. He had hoped as he went deeper that he would hear something, but again, the only sounds were his own footsteps and the steady beating of his heart.

In the darkness, his imagination began to run wild. He pictured evil spirits hiding among the trees, fearsome spiders waiting in the shadows, and bloodthirsty hounds prowling just beyond sight.

The Cobbler’s Son and the Serpent

At last, he stumbled upon the ruins of an old castle. Among the broken stones and fallen arches, he found a small section of wall still standing and decided to make camp there. No sooner had his fire begun blazing and he had settled in than he heard a voice sweetly call from behind him. 

“Hasan, Hasan, can I come and warm myself before your fire?” 

The voice was as soft as a maiden’s, but it brought no comfort to the fearful Hasan, who could see no woman in the shadows. He remembered his father’s stories of shapeshifting women who pretended to be damsels only to lure men to their deaths. 

“Certainly,” Hasan replied cautiously. He looked around, peering into the darkness until one of the shadows shifted and moved into the firelight.

The golden glow reflected off shimmering scales, and the creature slowly came into view with its obsidian eyes fixed upon Hasan. It was a serpent, coiled in the half-light, watching him intently.

Hasan recoiled in horror, but then the same sweet maiden’s voice spoke again and this time, the voice came unmistakably from the serpent itself.

The Serpent’s Curse

“O Cobbler’s Son, do not be afraid. I am truly a maiden, not a snake. I was playing my flute on my window ledge one day, unveiled and thinking to myself that I was alone. However, a wicked magician had been passing by and he caught sight of me. He demanded I be his bride, but when I refused and tried to run for my mother, he cursed me. My nurse returned and seeing a wicked creature instead of her charge, she had the servants beat me out of the house. I fled here and have been here for more days than I can count.”

Hasan was touched by her sorrow and promised that if she stayed with him, he would help her after he defeated the creature that terrorized these woods. The Snake Woman claimed she would go anywhere with Hasan if he truly promised to help her. 

After making their deal, Hasan asked her to keep watch while he slept. At first, he lay on his side and pretended to sleep. Maybe she would strike while he was unable to protect himself? Maybe she would poison him. But, the shadow of the snake did not move an inch and so he eventually drifted off to sleep.

The Treasure Trove

Hasan awoke the next morning, almost wondering if it had all been a dream. But there, beside the ashes of the dying fire, lay the coiled Snake Maiden, her dark eyes watching him quietly.

Before they set off, the Snake Maiden told Hasan she wished to show him the treasures hidden beneath the palace ruins. Gold and jewels, she said, were buried deep below one of the broken floors.

Wide-eyed, Hasan followed her to the trove, marveling at the glittering piles of riches gleaming faintly in the dim light. Yet, though the sight tempted him, Hasan decided to leave the gold for later. There was something far more important to be done first. He had to slay the beast of the woods. 

The Predators or the Prey?

Then, Hasan set off with the snake draped around his neck. Each time her cold scales tightened and relaxed, he couldn’t help but wonder if she meant to strangle him. But she did not, and slowly, he began to feel more at ease with a companion beside him.

The unlikely pair walked on, with no sign of the beast, as the sun climbed higher and higher in the sky. Finally, Hasan followed the soft murmur of a stream, hoping to quench his thirst and calm his nerves. His nerves were shot from jumping at every sound and the tightness in his chest had not loosened since he entered this place. 

As he was drinking, he suddenly felt a terrible chill run down the back of his neck. Something was watching him. Before he could turn, a terrifying roar shattered the stillness. Hasan whipped around to see a large, scarred Lion glaring down at him. It was half cloaked in the brambles but Hasan could make out that it was larger than a regular lion. 

Hasan stammered, “O Noble Lion. He who has killed the Governor’s Hunter and Horseman. He who is master of this domain. I am not worthy of your kill. Look at my bones. Instead, I have the most interesting story to tell you.”

The lion paused. Indeed Hasan, scrawny and pale as only one who grew up in poverty could look, would have been better used as a toothpick than a meal. Feeling lazy and not particularly hungry, the lion decided that Hasan could tell his tale. If it was terrible, then he would eat him afterwards. 

A Story to Save Your Life

With the lion leading the way, Hasan and the Snake Maiden followed him back to his cave. Hasan stumbled behind cautiously, but now that he had come face to face with the beast, he felt less afraid. He realized that the shadows and whispers had been far worse than the creature itself. His imagination, fueled by his father’s horrific firelight tales, had conjured monsters far more terrible than this lion ever could be.

“O Noble Lion,” Hasan started once they had all settled in the dark cave, “the snake around my neck is not truly a creature but a maiden. We are seeking someone who can release her from this curse as it is a terrible burden.”

The lion looked at the golden snake and asked for her story which she relayed just the same as she had the night before. 

The lion’s eyes glimmered and he recalled how a mischievous sorcerer had traded him an ointment in exchange for his life. It was supposed to return cursed objects to its original form. The lion had never found a use for it, but now he retrieved it and rubbed some of the ointment onto the snake’s head. 

She Lives…But Not For Long

In a thrice, there was a puff of smoke and the smell of brimstone. The golden snake had vanished and left in her place was a maiden dressed in coloured silks. 

She cried tears of joy and danced around Hasan and the lion, relishing in being human once more. She exclaimed how thrilled her parents would be when they saw her again- how they must have thought her dead. O, how will she ever return home now? 

“Return?” The lion cackled, rising to his full height. “You shall never return to them. Both of you will be thrown into this cage and fattened up for eating!” 

Hasan tried to reach for his sword and shield which he had discarded near the entrance, but he could not reach them in time. Desperately, he shoved the maiden behind him, but there was nothing he could do. 

The lion snarled and, with his mighty paws, swiped and slashed until he had driven Hasan and the Snake Maiden into a large cage at the back of the cavern. His thunderous roar echoed through the cave as the two prisoners huddled together in fear. Satisfied, the lion prowled to the entrance and lay down to sleep until morning.

The Hansel and Gretal Treatment

Now that they were further back in the cave, Hasan saw what the shadows had hidden- bones scattered and piled around the cage. Some were large, once belonging to animals while others were clearly human. The skull’s empty eye sockets seemed to all be looking at him. Their jaws open as if laughing at the poor cobbler’s son who thought he could fight a monster and win. 

Sorrowfully, Hasan turned to the maiden and apologized. He had planned to strike when the lion was distracted inside the cave. But when the lion had offered him the ointment earlier, Hasan had forgotten all about his plan and mistaken the lion’s actions for an act of kindness. He should have known better.

“Have no fear,” the maiden, who revealed her name was Faiza, whispered back. She unclipped a silver belt from around her waist and gave it to Hasan with instructions to use it to strangle the lion the next chance he got. 

For three days, the lion fed them through the bars. Then on the fourth day, the lion had enough and threw the cage open to feast on Hasan. Taking his chance, Hasan slung the belt around the lion’s neck and pulled tighter and tighter until the thrashing creature went still in his arms. 

Out of the Woods

Grabbing his sword, Hasan struck swiftly, cutting off the lion’s head and wrapping it in his cloak to present to the Governor. The blood quickly soaked through the fabric, dyeing it a deep red.

The Governor and all the people welcomed Hasan and Faiza with great joy and celebration. The Governor presented Hasan with a robe of honour that filled his mouth and gold and also awarded him the grand prize which was a priceless carpet. As they paraded back to his home, Hasan generously distributed some of his hard-earned gold to the poor.

The procession carried Hasan and Faiza to the cobbler’s house, where the massive carpet was set outside the door as it was too large for the small hovel. Faiza presented half of the treasures to the cobbler, and after reuniting with his son, the old man scurried inside to hide their newfound wealth.

A Magic Carpet Ride

As they stood upon the carpet, Faiza grew teary-eyed and cried about how she wished she could return home and be reunited with her parents as well. As if in answer to her plea, the carpet lifted into the sky, carrying them across the countryside. They soared above fields and rivers on a magic carpet ride until, at last, the carpet began to descend.

Peering over the edge, Faiza suddenly cried out. Below, in her family’s rose garden, stood her parents. The carpet swirled down until it landed softly before Faiza’s bewildered family.

The startled merchant of Khorassan could hardly believe his daughter’s presence after five years of believing her dead. Nor could he fully comprehend her tale or Hasan’s story. But when he saw their blood-splattered clothes and the sword hanging at Hasan’s side, he knew the young cobbler’s son had risked everything to save his daughter even though many people would have ignored her or slain her out of fear. With gratitude, he welcomed the poor Cobbler’s son into his home. 

Happily Ever After

Then, Faiza asked her parents for permission to marry Hasan, if he felt the same way, which of course he did. The two were wed and remained in Khorassan. However, when they wished to visit Hasan’s father, they had to travel by camel caravan, for the magic carpet never flew again. Nor, to the Governor’s knowledge, had it ever flown before.

So, the couple hung it on their wall and admired it instead. Which goes to show that though a magic carpet may take you somewhere once in a lifetime, it is no use expecting it to do so again if it is not in your kismet that it should. 

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Looking for more tales of monsters and mystery? Well we have you covered with our collection of ghosts tales. For our full episode list, click here.

• Beware of Auntie Tiger: Taiwanese Tale
• Christmas Ghosts: Charles Dickens
• Death’s Messengers: A Grimm Tale
• Mythical Monster Mash
• Running Deer and the Wampus Mask
• The Cobbler’s Son and the Serpent: Uzbekistan
• The Curse of the Corn: A Scottish Tale
• The Murder Maggot of Minnesota
• The Pirate Ghost of Gombi Island
• The Poor Prince: An Afghan Tale
• Yokai, Yocat: Japanese Yokai