mud/content/library/grimm/193_the_drummer.txt

The Drummer

A young drummer went out quite alone one evening into the country, and
came to a lake on the shore of which he perceived three pieces of white
linen lying. “What fine linen,” said he, and put one piece in his
pocket. He returned home, thought no more of what he had found, and
went to bed. Just as he was going to sleep, it seemed to him as if some
one was saying his name. He listened, and was aware of a soft voice
which cried to him, “Drummer, drummer, wake up!” As it was a dark night
he could see no one, but it appeared to him that a figure was hovering
about his bed. “What do you want?” he asked. “Give me back my dress,”
answered the voice, “that you took away from me last evening by the
lake.” “You shall have it back again,” said the drummer, “if you will
tell me who you are.” “Ah,” replied the voice, “I am the daughter of a
mighty King; but I have fallen into the power of a witch, and am shut
up on the glass-mountain. I have to bathe in the lake every day with my
two sisters, but I cannot fly back again without my dress. My sisters
have gone away, but I have been forced to stay behind. I entreat you to
give me my dress back.” “Be easy, poor child,” said the drummer. “I
will willingly give it back to you.” He took it out of his pocket, and
reached it to her in the dark. She snatched it in haste, and wanted to
go away with it. “Stop a moment, perhaps I can help you.” “You can only
help me by ascending the glass-mountain, and freeing me from the power
of the witch. But you cannot come to the glass-mountain, and indeed if
you were quite close to it you could not ascend it.” “When I want to do
a thing I always can do it,” said the drummer; “I am sorry for you, and
have no fear of anything. But I do not know the way which leads to the
glass-mountain.” “The road goes through the great forest, in which the
man-eaters live,” she answered, “and more than that, I dare not tell
you.” And then he heard her wings quiver, as she flew away.

By daybreak the drummer arose, buckled on his drum, and went without
fear straight into the forest. After he had walked for a while without
seeing any giants, he thought to himself, “I must waken up the
sluggards,” and he hung his drum before him, and beat such a reveille
that the birds flew out of the trees with loud cries. It was not long
before a giant who had been lying sleeping among the grass, rose up,
and was as tall as a fir-tree. “Wretch!” cried he; “what art thou
drumming here for, and wakening me out of my best sleep?” “I am
drumming,” he replied, “because I want to show the way to many
thousands who are following me.” “What do they want in my forest?”
demanded the giant. “They want to put an end to thee, and cleanse the
forest of such a monster as thou art!” “Oho!” said the giant, “I will
trample you all to death like so many ants.” “Dost thou think thou
canst do anything against us?” said the drummer; “if thou stoopest to
take hold of one, he will jump away and hide himself; but when thou art
lying down and sleeping, they will come forth from every thicket, and
creep up to thee. Every one of them has a hammer of steel in his belt,
and with that they will beat in thy skull.” The giant grew angry and
thought, “If I meddle with the crafty folk, it might turn out badly for
me. I can strangle wolves and bears, but I cannot protect myself from
these earth-worms.” “Listen, little fellow,” said he; “go back again,
and I will promise you that for the future I will leave you and your
comrades in peace, and if there is anything else you wish for, tell me,
for I am quite willing to do something to please you.” “Thou hast long
legs,” said the drummer, “and canst run quicker than I; carry me to the
glass-mountain, and I will give my followers a signal to go back, and
they shall leave thee in peace this time.” “Come here, worm,” said the
giant; “seat thyself on my shoulder, I will carry thee where thou
wishest to be.” The giant lifted him up, and the drummer began to beat
his drum up aloft to his heart’s delight. The giant thought, “That is
the signal for the other people to turn back.”

After a while, a second giant was standing in the road, who took the
drummer from the first, and stuck him in his button-hole. The drummer
laid hold of the button, which was as large as a dish, held on by it,
and looked merrily around. Then they came to a third giant, who took
him out of the button-hole, and set him on the rim of his hat. Then the
drummer walked backwards and forwards up above, and looked over the
trees, and when he perceived a mountain in the blue distance, he
thought, “That must be the glass-mountain,” and so it was. The giant
only made two steps more, and they reached the foot of the mountain,
where the giant put him down. The drummer demanded to be put on the
summit of the glass-mountain, but the giant shook his head, growled
something in his beard, and went back into the forest.

And now the poor drummer was standing before the mountain, which was as
high as if three mountains were piled on each other, and at the same
time as smooth as a looking-glass, and did not know how to get up it.
He began to climb, but that was useless, for he always slipped back
again. “If one was a bird now,” thought he; but what was the good of
wishing, no wings grew for him.

Whilst he was standing thus, not knowing what to do, he saw, not far
from him, two men who were struggling fiercely together. He went up to
them and saw that they were disputing about a saddle which was lying on
the ground before them, and which both of them wanted to have. “What
fools you are,” said he, “to quarrel about a saddle, when you have not
a horse for it!” “The saddle is worth fighting about,” answered one of
the men; “whosoever sits on it, and wishes himself in any place, even
if it should be the very end of the earth, gets there the instant he
has uttered the wish. The saddle belongs to us in common. It is my turn
to ride on it, but that other man will not let me do it.” “I will soon
decide the quarrel,” said the drummer, and he went to a short distance
and stuck a white rod in the ground. Then he came back and said, “Now
run to the goal, and whoever gets there first, shall ride first.” Both
put themselves into a trot; but hardly had they gone a couple of steps
before the drummer swung himself on the saddle, wished himself on the
glass-mountain, and before any one could turn round, he was there. On
the top of the mountain was a plain; there stood an old stone house,
and in front of the house lay a great fish-pond, but behind it was a
dark forest. He saw neither men nor animals, everything was quiet; only
the wind rustled amongst the trees, and the clouds moved by quite close
above his head. He went to the door and knocked. When he had knocked
for the third time, an old woman with a brown face and red eyes opened
the door. She had spectacles on her long nose, and looked sharply at
him; then she asked what he wanted. “Entrance, food, and a bed for the
night,” replied the drummer. “That thou shalt have,” said the old
woman, “if thou wilt perform three services in return.” “Why not?” he
answered, “I am not afraid of any kind of work, however hard it may
be.” The old woman let him go in, and gave him some food and a good bed
at night. The next morning when he had had his sleep out, she took a
thimble from her wrinkled finger, reached it to the drummer, and said,
“Go to work now, and empty out the pond with this thimble; but thou
must have it done before night, and must have sought out all the fishes
which are in the water and laid them side by side, according to their
kind and size.” “That is strange work,” said the drummer, but he went
to the pond, and began to empty it. He baled the whole morning; but
what can any one do to a great lake with a thimble, even if he were to
bale for a thousand years?

When it was noon, he thought, “It is all useless, and whether I work or
not it will come to the same thing.” So he gave it up and sat down.
Then came a maiden out of the house who set a little basket with food
before him, and said, “What ails thee, that thou sittest so sadly
here?” He looked at her, and saw that she was wondrously beautiful.
“Ah,” said he, “I cannot finish the first piece of work, how will it be
with the others? I came forth to seek a king’s daughter who is said to
dwell here, but I have not found her, and I will go farther.” “Stay
here,” said the maiden, “I will help thee out of thy difficulty. Thou
art tired, lay thy head in my lap, and sleep. When thou awakest again,
thy work will be done.” The drummer did not need to be told that twice.
As soon as his eyes were shut, she turned a wishing-ring and said,
“Rise, water. Fishes, come out.” Instantly the water rose on high like
a white mist, and moved away with the other clouds, and the fishes
sprang on the shore and laid themselves side by side each according to
his size and kind. When the drummer awoke, he saw with amazement that
all was done. But the maiden said, “One of the fish is not lying with
those of its own kind, but quite alone; when the old woman comes
to-night and sees that all she demanded has been done, she will ask
thee, ‘What is this fish lying alone for?’ Then throw the fish in her
face, and say, ‘This one shall be for thee, old witch.’” In the evening
the witch came, and when she had put this question, he threw the fish
in her face. She behaved as if she did not remark it, and said nothing,
but looked at him with malicious eyes. Next morning she said,
“Yesterday it was too easy for thee, I must give thee harder work.
To-day thou must hew down the whole of the forest, split the wood into
logs, and pile them up, and everything must be finished by the
evening.” She gave him an axe, a mallet, and two wedges. But the axe
was made of lead, and the mallet and wedges were of tin. When he began
to cut, the edge of the axe turned back, and the mallet and wedges were
beaten out of shape. He did not know how to manage, but at mid-day the
maiden came once more with his dinner and comforted him. “Lay thy head
on my lap,” said she, “and sleep; when thou awakest, thy work will be
done.” She turned her wishing-ring, and in an instant the whole forest
fell down with a crash, the wood split, and arranged itself in heaps,
and it seemed just as if unseen giants were finishing the work. When he
awoke, the maiden said, “Dost thou see that the wood is piled up and
arranged, one bough alone remains; but when the old woman comes this
evening and asks thee about that bough, give her a blow with it, and
say, ‘That is for thee, thou witch.’”

The old woman came, “There thou seest how easy the work was!” said she;
“but for whom hast thou left that bough which is lying there still?”

“For thee, thou witch,” he replied, and gave her a blow with it. But
she pretended not to feel it, laughed scornfully, and said, “Early
to-morrow morning thou shalt arrange all the wood in one heap, set fire
to it, and burn it.” He rose at break of day, and began to pick up the
wood, but how can a single man get a whole forest together? The work
made no progress. The maiden, however, did not desert him in his need.
She brought him his food at noon, and when he had eaten, he laid his
head on her lap, and went to sleep. When he awoke, the entire pile of
wood was burning in one enormous flame, which stretched its tongues out
into the sky. “Listen to me,” said the maiden, “when the witch comes,
she will give thee all kinds of orders; do whatever she asks thee
without fear, and then she will not be able to get the better of thee,
but if thou art afraid, the fire will lay hold of thee, and consume
thee. At last when thou hast done everything, seize her with both thy
hands, and throw her into the midst of the fire.” The maiden departed,
and the old woman came sneaking up to him. “Oh, I am cold,” said she,
“but that is a fire that burns; it warms my old bones for me, and does
me good! But there is a log lying there which won’t burn, bring it out
for me. When thou hast done that, thou art free, and mayst go where
thou likest, come; go in with a good will.”

The drummer did not reflect long; he sprang into the midst of the
flames, but they did not hurt him, and could not even singe a hair of
his head. He carried the log out, and laid it down. Hardly, however,
had the wood touched the earth than it was transformed, and the
beautiful maiden who had helped him in his need stood before him, and
by the silken and shining golden garments which she wore, he knew right
well that she was the King’s daughter. But the old woman laughed
venomously, and said, “Thou thinkest thou hast her safe, but thou hast
not got her yet!” Just as she was about to fall on the maiden and take
her away, the youth seized the old woman with both his hands, raised
her up on high, and threw her into the jaws of the fire, which closed
over her as if it were delighted that an old witch was to be burnt.

Then the King’s daughter looked at the drummer, and when she saw that
he was a handsome youth and remembered how he had risked his life to
deliver her, she gave him her hand, and said, “Thou hast ventured
everything for my sake, but I also will do everything for thine.
Promise to be true to me, and thou shalt be my husband. We shall not
want for riches, we shall have enough with what the witch has gathered
together here.” She led him into the house, where there were chests and
coffers crammed with the old woman’s treasures. The maiden left the
gold and silver where it was, and took only the precious stones. She
would not stay any longer on the glass-mountain, so the drummer said to
her, “Seat thyself by me on my saddle, and then we will fly down like
birds.” “I do not like the old saddle,” said she, “I need only turn my
wishing-ring and we shall be at home.” “Very well, then,” answered the
drummer, “then wish us in front of the town-gate.” In the twinkling of
an eye they were there, but the drummer said, “I will just go to my
parents and tell them the news, wait for me outside here, I shall soon
be back.” “Ah,” said the King’s daughter, “I beg thee to be careful. On
thy arrival do not kiss thy parents on the right cheek, or else thou
wilt forget everything, and I shall stay behind here outside, alone and
deserted.” “How can I forget thee?” said he, and promised her to come
back very soon, and gave his hand upon it. When he went into his
father’s house, he had changed so much that no one knew who he was, for
the three days which he had passed on the glass-mountain had been three
years. Then he made himself known, and his parents fell on his neck
with joy, and his heart was so moved that he forgot what the maiden had
said, and kissed them on both cheeks. But when he had given them the
kiss on the right cheek, every thought of the King’s daughter vanished
from him. He emptied out his pockets, and laid handfuls of the largest
jewels on the table. The parents had not the least idea what to do with
the riches. Then the father built a magnificent castle all surrounded
by gardens, woods, and meadows as if a prince were going to live in it,
and when it was ready, the mother said, “I have found a maiden for
thee, and the wedding shall be in three days. The son was content to do
as his parents desired.”

The poor King’s daughter had stood for a long time without the town
waiting for the return of the young man. When evening came, she said,
“He must certainly have kissed his parents on the right cheek, and has
forgotten me.” Her heart was full of sorrow, she wished herself into a
solitary little hut in a forest, and would not return to her father’s
court. Every evening she went into the town and passed the young man’s
house; he often saw her, but he no longer knew her. At length she heard
the people saying, “The wedding will take place to-morrow.” Then she
said, “I will try if I can win his heart back.”

On the first day of the wedding ceremonies, she turned her
wishing-ring, and said, “A dress as bright as the sun.” Instantly the
dress lay before her, and it was as bright as if it had been woven of
real sunbeams. When all the guests were assembled, she entered the
hall. Every one was amazed at the beautiful dress, and the bride most
of all, and as pretty dresses were the things she had most delight in,
she went to the stranger and asked if she would sell it to her. “Not
for money,” she answered, “but if I may pass the first night outside
the door of the room where your betrothed sleeps, I will give it up to
you.” The bride could not overcome her desire and consented, but she
mixed a sleeping-draught with the wine her betrothed took at night,
which made him fall into a deep sleep, When all had become quiet, the
King’s daughter crouched down by the door of the bedroom, opened it
just a little, and cried,

“Drummer, drummer, I pray thee hear!
Hast thou forgotten thou heldest me dear?
That on the glass-mountain we sat hour by hour?
That I rescued thy life from the witch’s power?
Didst thou not plight thy troth to me?
Drummer, drummer, hearken to me!”


But it was all in vain, the drummer did not awake, and when morning
dawned, the King’s daughter was forced to go back again as she came. On
the second evening she turned her wishing-ring and said, “A dress as
silvery as the moon.” When she appeared at the feast in the dress which
was as soft as moonbeams, it again excited the desire of the bride, and
the King’s daughter gave it to her for permission to pass the second
night also, outside the door of the bedroom. Then in the stillness of
the night, she cried,

“Drummer, drummer, I pray thee hear!
Hast thou forgotten thy heldest me dear?
That on the glass-mountain we sat hour by hour?
That I rescued thy life from the witch’s power?
Didst thou not plight thy troth to me?
Drummer, drummer, hearken to me!”


But the drummer, who was stupefied with the sleeping-draught, could not
be aroused. Sadly next morning she went back to her hut in the forest.
But the people in the house had heard the lamentation of the
stranger-maiden, and told the bridegroom about it. They told him also
that it was impossible that he could hear anything of it, because the
maiden he was going to marry had poured a sleeping-draught into his
wine.

On the third evening, the King’s daughter turned her wishing-ring, and
said, “A dress glittering like the stars.” When she showed herself
therein at the feast, the bride was quite beside herself with the
splendour of the dress, which far surpassed the others, and she said,
“I must, and will have it.” The maiden gave it as she had given the
others for permission to spend the night outside the bridegroom’s door.
The bridegroom, however, did not drink the wine which was handed to him
before he went to bed, but poured it behind the bed, and when
everything was quiet, he heard a sweet voice which called to him,

“Drummer, drummer, I pray thee hear!
Hast thou forgotten thou held me dear?
That on the glass-mountain we sat hour by hour?
That I rescued thy life from the witch’s power?
Didst thou not plight thy troth to me?
Drummer, drummer, hearken to me!”


Suddenly, his memory returned to him. “Ah,” cried he, “how can I have
acted so unfaithfully; but the kiss which in the joy of my heart I gave
my parents, on the right cheek, that is to blame for it all, that is
what stupefied me!” He sprang up, took the King’s daughter by the hand,
and led her to his parents’ bed. “This is my true bride,” said he; “if
I marry the other, I shall do a great wrong.” The parents, when they
heard how everything had happened, gave their consent. Then the lights
in the hall were lighted again, drums and trumpets were brought,
friends and relations were invited to come, and the real wedding was
solemnized with great rejoicing. The first bride received the beautiful
dresses as a compensation, and declared herself satisfied.