In which today's tale has love, enchantment, and a kindly beekeeper

 The Beekeeper and the Hare (Scotland)

Across the moor in Scotland there lived a lad who made a good living keeping his bees. 

Though he lived all alone, he was in good company for in fine weather the bees would travel far and bring back the news, and in cold weather they would all stay close to home and hive, and he would sing them songs and tell them stories, and recite them poems, and thus would go through the year.

It happened one day that the lad was checking his beehives when he saw, far away, two great hounds giving chase.  Soon enough their prey came close:  it was a fine white hare dashing wildly towards him.

Without a thought the lad opened his jacket, and the hare jumped up, and he buttoned her in tightly.  When the hounds came following, barking at the lad, why, the bees soon drove them away.

When the hounds were far gone, the lad placed the hare down again, but instead of hopping away, she followed him through the day, twitching her nose. 

When he went into his small house, yes, the hare followed him there also.

“You act like you might live here,” said the lad, “and so I must give you something to eat.”  He pulled from his stores a fine carrot that he had grown, and he ate his own supper from a bowl and the hareate the carrot.  But when he gave her the carrot, he saw that her eyes were blue.

“Oh, a blue-eyed hare, that’s something I’ve not seen before!” said the lad. 

The next morning he went to check on his hives, and the hare went along too. 

He introduced her to the bees, holding her up for them to see, and they flew and spun around her head without stinging so he knew she would be all right then.

Later that day, the lad saw an old woman ambling along a track across the moor.  Thinking he might sell a bit of honeycomb, he met her at the gate and greeted her politely.

But instead of asking about honey, the old woman pointed at the hare. “A blue-eyed hare,” she exclaimed.  “Will you sell her to me?”

But the lad would not, as the hare was not his property.  “She belongs not to me but to herself,” he said, “and she comes and goes to where she will.”

The woman offered silver and gold, but the lad would not sell. 

Finally the old woman reached over the gate to grab at the hare, but instead she felt a sting upon hand, and when she looked up, a whole swarm of bees was coming. 

“You will be sorry you didn’t sell when I offered!” she shouted as she hurried away.

The next day at the market, the beekeeper shared the story of his encounter with the baker who tended the stall next to his own.

“Surely, that one was a witch!” said the baker.  “You must take care now.”

“Aye,” said the seller of sweaters and kilts on his other side.  “You’ve angered a witch, no doubt about it.”

But the lad thought, “these two think every other person is a witch,” and thought no more about it. 

Still, just in case, he barred his door at night, and put an iron horse-shoe nail by every gate, and kept a close eye on the hare.

The summer passed, and few flowers remained.  The bees stayed close to the hive, with only a few standing guard in the cold air.  The lad was putting out sugar water for the bees when he saw a traveler’s caravan pass by on the road.

Much later, he saw a sack of grain on the road.

“It must have fallen from the caravan!” said the lad, and with no further thought he put the sack on his back and set off to return it.

It took an hour of walking, but finally he found the travelers and returned the grain to them. 

“You carried this heavy sack all this way to us?” they said.

“Of course I did,” said the lad. 

Just then, the blue-eyed hare poked its head out from the beekeeper’s jacket.

“That’s no ordinary hare,” said the travelers.  “Our grandmother would like to see that.”  They called for the grandmother, and when she saw the hare, she knew that it was no ordinary creature.

“That’s a lassie,” said the grandmother.  “A lassie’s who’s been bewitched!”

The beekeeper gasped and told them all about the woman who wanted to buy the hare.

“Your friends were right,” said the grandmother.  “And now you must take great care.  The darkest night is coming, and the witches know that the bees will be back in their hives.  But you can still ask for their help.

“Before the sun sets on Solstice night, tie a stout cord around the hare and keep her on your lap till past midnight.   

“She may pull and jump with great strength. But you must hold her tight and call to the bees for help.”

When the lad returned home, he carried the hare to each hive, explaining to all what he intended to do. 

And on Solstice night, he tied a stout cord around her, and sat her on his lap. 

There, she stayed contentedly until the very darkest part of the night, when she started up and kicked with great strength.

She twisted and leaped and would have wiggled free of his hands, but they both heard the hum of bees, flying close and encircling them both.

Closer and thicker the bees came, forming a deep surround.  The hare twitched her ears, and flitted about, but she no longer tried to escape.

Finally, she settled down quietly.

And then—the marvel of it!  No longer was there a white, blue-eyed hare on his lap but a bonnie blue-eyed lass! 

Quickly he removed the cord from her neck, and he set her on her own feet again.  They laughed for the wonder of it.

Come the morning, the bees were in the hives again, the geese were winging overhead, and the lad and the lassie were in the cottage together, making plans to marry.