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Atop
Wawel Hill on the Vistula River in Poland, there stands a beautiful, ancient
castle and a Cathedral in which are buried many of the Kings of Poland. Below
lies the ancient city of Krakow ( the original capital of Poland) home of Poland’s
ancient glory and heroic deeds.
But long, long ago, before the city of Krakow existed,
before the castle and the cathedral, there existed a small settlement of
peaceful people, who tilled the soil, harvested their crops and prospered. In
the evening when work was done and the sun had gone to sleep, they would gather
around fires and the old men would tell stories of an evil dragon who lived in a
deep dark cave in the side of Wawel hill.
The entrance to the cave was overgrown with thick weeds
and brambles and no one would dare venture near the cave lest they awaken the
creature inside. No one, that is, accept five foolish youths, who disbelieved
the older generation. They thought the old stories foolhardy and set out to
prove them false.
Despite dire warnings from their elders, the young boys
armed themselves with torches and flints and set out to climb the hill. They
laboriously made there way through the thick brush and soon arrived at the mouth
of a cavernous cave. Peering into the cave with their torches in hand, they
could see nothing. They entered in and felt the presence of evil around them.
The air was foul and the boys wanted to bolt and run, but not wishing to face
the embarrassment of returning to their village in the state of fright, they pressed on.
Advancing through the long, narrow cave, their torches threw hideous shadows
against the wall of the cave. They could hear deep and regular breathing, but
still they went on. Suddenly, they saw in front of them a huge heaving mass. It
was covered with greenish scales and worse yet, it was awakening from its sleep!
Needless to say, the boys ran the fastest that they had
ever run in their lives toward the entrance of the cave. Behind them they heard
roaring and bellowing and they felt hot breath on their backs. They did not
bother to turn and look, but rather, plunged down the side of the hill running,
stumbling, and rolling until they reached the bottom. Only then did they look up
to see a hideous dragon at the top of the hill with sharp teeth and evil flashing eyes.
The dragon made its way down the hill, and hungry from its
long sleep, it went directly to a herd of grazing cattle and seized one of the
hapless creatures and carried it back to its cave. The people were shocked and
terrified and the boys slunk away, ashamed of what they had done.
From that day on there was no peace in the village. Daily,
the dragon would appear to carry off a victim. Sometimes a sheep, or dreadfully,
a child or even a grown man. The villagers called the hideous creature "Smok".
Men banded together to try and slay the dragon, but their primitive weapons were
no match for the thick scales of the dragon. Many men died in the attempt to rid
the village of this terrible curse.
In the same village lived a wise man named Krakus. Some
thought him something of a magician, for he would mix herbs to heal the sick.
The villagers came to Krakus to ask for his help. Krakus thought for a long
time, studying his jars of herbs and things, and all the while murmuring to himself.
Then he started to mix up a paste. He summoned the villagers to bring a sheep to
him. He covered the poor sheep with the unpleasant mixture and carrying it up
the hill, threw the sheep inside the cave.
After several suspenseful moments, there came the sound of
the great dragon roaring and bellowing its way down to the Vistula River. The
mixture that the sheep had been coated with caused a great burning inside the
dragon. It drank and drank until it began to swell. Some say it drank half of
the Vistula River that day. Still it drank to quell the relentless burning in
its gut. Suddenly, there was a great explosion and the dragon burst!
The people rejoiced at the demise of the fearsome
creature. They were so impressed with the wisdom of Krakus that they invited him
to rule over them. They built a stronghold at the top of the hill and below it,
the city prospered under his rule. The city was named Krakow in honor of Krakus.
When Krakus died the people gave him a magnificent burial, and erected a mound
over his tomb, bringing the dirt with their own hands. It has endured throughout
the centuries as a lasting monument to their wise and brave King.
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