mud/content/library/grimm/060_the_two_brothers.txt

The Two Brothers

There were once upon a time two brothers, one rich and the other poor.
The rich one was a goldsmith and evil-hearted. The poor one supported
himself by making brooms, and was good and honourable. The poor one had
two children, who were twin brothers and as like each other as two
drops of water. The two boys went backwards and forwards to the rich
house, and often got some of the scraps to eat. It happened once when
the poor man was going into the forest to fetch brush-wood, that he saw
a bird which was quite golden and more beautiful than any he had ever
chanced to meet with. He picked up a small stone, threw it at him, and
was lucky enough to hit him, but one golden feather only fell down, and
the bird flew away. The man took the feather and carried it to his
brother, who looked at it and said, “It is pure gold!” and gave him a
great deal of money for it. Next day the man climbed into a birch-tree,
and was about to cut off a couple of branches when the same bird flew
out, and when the man searched he found a nest, and an egg lay inside
it, which was of gold. He took the egg home with him, and carried it to
his brother, who again said, “It is pure gold,” and gave him what it
was worth. At last the goldsmith said, “I should indeed like to have
the bird itself.” The poor man went into the forest for the third time,
and again saw the golden bird sitting on the tree, so he took a stone
and brought it down and carried it to his brother, who gave him a great
heap of gold for it. “Now I can get on,” thought he, and went
contentedly home.

The goldsmith was crafty and cunning, and knew very well what kind of a
bird it was. He called his wife and said, “Roast me the gold bird, and
take care that none of it is lost. I have a fancy to eat it all
myself.” The bird, however, was no common one, but of so wondrous a
kind that whosoever ate its heart and liver found every morning a piece
of gold beneath his pillow. The woman made the bird ready, put it on
the spit, and let it roast. Now it happened that while it was at the
fire, and the woman was forced to go out of the kitchen on account of
some other work, the two children of the poor broom-maker ran in, stood
by the spit and turned it round once or twice. And as at that very
moment two little bits of the bird fell down into the dripping-tin, one
of the boys said, “We will eat these two little bits; I am so hungry,
and no one will ever miss them.” Then the two ate the pieces, but the
woman came into the kitchen and saw that they were eating something and
said, “What have ye been eating?” “Two little morsels which fell out of
the bird,” answered they. “That must have been the heart and the
liver,” said the woman, quite frightened, and in order that her husband
might not miss them and be angry, she quickly killed a young cock, took
out his heart and liver, and put them beside the golden bird. When it
was ready, she carried it to the goldsmith, who consumed it all alone,
and left none of it. Next morning, however, when he felt beneath his
pillow, and expected to bring out the piece of gold, no more gold
pieces were there than there had always been.

The two children did not know what a piece of good-fortune had fallen
to their lot. Next morning when they arose, something fell rattling to
the ground, and when they picked it up there were two gold pieces! They
took them to their father, who was astonished and said, “How can that
have happened?” When next morning they again found two, and so on
daily, he went to his brother and told him the strange story. The
goldsmith at once knew how it had come to pass, and that the children
had eaten the heart and liver of the golden bird, and in order to
revenge himself, and because he was envious and hard-hearted, he said
to the father, “Thy children are in league with the Evil One, do not
take the gold, and do not suffer them to stay any longer in thy house,
for he has them in his power, and may ruin thee likewise.” The father
feared the Evil One, and painful as it was to him, he nevertheless led
the twins forth into the forest, and with a sad heart left them there.

And now the two children ran about the forest, and sought the way home
again, but could not find it, and only lost themselves more and more.
At length they met with a huntsman, who asked, “To whom do you children
belong?” “We are the poor broom-maker’s boys,” they replied, and they
told him that their father would not keep them any longer in the house
because a piece of gold lay every morning under their pillows. “Come,”
said the huntsman, “that is nothing so very bad, if at the same time
you keep honest, and are not idle.” As the good man liked the children,
and had none of his own, he took them home with him and said, “I will
be your father, and bring you up till you are big.” They learnt
huntsmanship from him, and the piece of gold which each of them found
when he awoke, was kept for them by him in case they should need it in
the future.

When they were grown up, their foster-father one day took them into the
forest with him, and said, “To-day shall you make your trial shot, so
that I may release you from your apprenticeship, and make you
huntsmen.” They went with him to lie in wait and stayed there a long
time, but no game appeared. The huntsman, however, looked above him and
saw a covey of wild geese flying in the form of a triangle, and said to
one of them, “Shoot me down one from each corner.” He did it, and thus
accomplished his trial shot. Soon after another covey came flying by in
the form of the figure two, and the huntsman bade the other also bring
down one from each corner, and his trial shot was likewise successful.
“Now,” said the foster-father, “I pronounce you out of your
apprenticeship; you are skilled huntsmen.” Thereupon the two brothers
went forth together into the forest, and took counsel with each other
and planned something. And in the evening when they had sat down to
supper, they said to their foster-father, “We will not touch food, or
take one mouthful, until you have granted us a request.” Said he,
“What, then, is your request?” They replied, “We have now finished
learning, and we must prove ourselves in the world, so allow us to go
away and travel.” Then spake the old man joyfully, “You talk like brave
huntsmen, that which you desire has been my wish; go forth, all will go
well with you.” Thereupon they ate and drank joyously together.

When the appointed day came, their foster-father presented each of them
with a good gun and a dog, and let each of them take as many of his
saved-up gold pieces as he chose. Then he accompanied them a part of
the way, and when taking leave, he gave them a bright knife, and said,
“If ever you separate, stick this knife into a tree at the place where
you part, and when one of you goes back, he will will be able to see
how his absent brother is faring, for the side of the knife which is
turned in the direction by which he went, will rust if he dies, but
will remain bright as long as he is alive.” The two brothers went still
farther onwards, and came to a forest which was so large that it was
impossible for them to get out of it in one day. So they passed the
night in it, and ate what they had put in their hunting-pouches, but
they walked all the second day likewise, and still did not get out. As
they had nothing to eat, one of them said, “We must shoot something for
ourselves or we shall suffer from hunger,” and loaded his gun, and
looked about him. And when an old hare came running up towards them, he
laid his gun on his shoulder, but the hare cried,

“Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
Two little ones to thee I’ll give,”


and sprang instantly into the thicket, and brought two young ones. But
the little creatures played so merrily, and were so pretty, that the
huntsmen could not find it in their hearts to kill them. They therefore
kept them with them, and the little hares followed on foot. Soon after
this, a fox crept past; they were just going to shoot it, but the fox
cried,

“Dear hunstman, do but let me live,
Two little ones I’ll also give.”


He, too, brought two little foxes, and the huntsmen did not like to
kill them either, but gave them to the hares for company, and they
followed behind. It was not long before a wolf strode out of the
thicket; the huntsmen made ready to shoot him, but the wolf cried,

“Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
Two little ones I’ll likewise give.”


The huntsmen put the two wolves beside the other animals, and they
followed behind them. Then a bear came who wanted to trot about a
little longer, and cried:

“Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
Two little ones I, too, will give.”


The two young bears were added to the others, and there were already
eight of them. At length who came? A lion came, and tossed his mane.
But the huntsmen did not let themselves be frightened and aimed at him
likewise, but the lion also said,

“Dear huntsman, do but let me live,
Two little ones I, too, will give.”


And he brought his little ones to them, and now the huntsmen had two
lions, two bears, two wolves, two foxes, and two hares, who followed
them and served them. In thu meantime their hunger was not appeased by
this, and they said to the foxes, “Hark ye, cunning fellows, provide us
with something to eat. You are crafty and deep.” They replied, “Not far
from here lies a village, from which we have already brought many a
fowl; we will show you the way there.” So they went into the village,
bought themselves something to eat, had some food given to their
beasts, and then travelled onwards. The foxes, however, knew their way
very well about the district and where the poultry-yards were, and were
able to guide the huntsmen.

Now they travelled about for a while, but could find no situations
where they could remain together, so they said, “There is nothing else
for it, we must part.” They divided the animals, so that each of them
had a lion, a bear, a wolf, a fox, and a hare, then they took leave of
each other, promised to love each other like brothers till their death,
and stuck the knife which their foster-father had given them, into a
tree, after which one went east, and the other went west.

The younger, however, arrived with his beasts in a town which was all
hung with black crape. He went into an inn, and asked the host if he
could accommodate his animals. The innkeeper gave him a stable, where
there was a hole in the wall, and the hare crept out and fetched
himself the head of a cabbage, and the fox fetched himself a hen, and
when he had devoured that got the cock as well, but the wolf, the bear,
and the lion could not get out because they were too big. Then the
innkeeper let them be taken to a place where a cow was just then lying
on the grass, that they might eat till they were satisfied. And when
the huntsman had taken care of his animals, he asked the innkeeper why
the town was thus hung with black crape? Said the host, “Because our
King’s only daughter is to die to-morrow.” The huntsman inquired if she
was “sick unto death?” “No,” answered the host, “she is vigorous and
healthy, nevertheless she must die!” “How is that?” asked the huntsman.
“There is a high hill without the town, whereon dwells a dragon who
every year must have a pure virgin, or he lays the whole country waste,
and now all the maidens have already been given to him, and there is no
longer anyone left but the King’s daughter, yet there is no mercy for
her; she must be given up to him, and that is to be done to-morrow.”
Said the huntsman, “Why is the dragon not killed?” “Ah,” replied the
host, “so many knights have tried it, but it has cost all of them their
lives. The King has promised that he who conquers the dragon shall have
his daughter to wife, and shall likewise govern the kingdom after his
own death.”

The huntsman said nothing more to this, but next morning took his
animals, and with them ascended the dragon’s hill. A little church
stood at the top of it, and on the altar three full cups were standing,
with the inscription, “Whosoever empties the cups will become the
strongest man on earth, and will be able to wield the sword which is
buried before the threshold of the door.” The huntsman did not drink,
but went out and sought for the sword in the ground, but was unable to
move it from its place. Then he went in and emptied the cups, and now
he was strong enough to take up the sword, and his hand could quite
easily wield it. When the hour came when the maiden was to be delivered
over to the dragon, the King, the marshal, and courtiers accompanied
her. From afar she saw the huntsman on the dragon’s hill, and thought
it was the dragon standing there waiting for her, and did not want to
go up to him, but at last, because otherwise the whole town would have
been destroyed, she was forced to go the miserable journey. The King
and courtiers returned home full of grief; the King’s marshal, however,
was to stand still, and see all from a distance.

When the King’s daughter got to the top of the hill, it was not the
dragon which stood there, but the young huntsman, who comforted her,
and said he would save her, led her into the church, and locked her in.
It was not long before the seven-headed dragon came thither with loud
roaring. When he perceived the huntsman, he was astonished and said,
“What business hast thou here on the hill?” The huntsman answered, “I
want to fight with thee.” Said the dragon, “Many knights have left
their lives here, I shall soon have made an end of thee too,” and he
breathed fire out of seven jaws. The fire was to have lighted the dry
grass, and the huntsman was to have been suffocated in the heat and
smoke, but the animals came running up and trampled out the fire. Then
the dragon rushed upon the huntsman, but he swung his sword until it
sang through the air, and struck off three of his heads. Then the
dragon grew right furious, and rose up in the air, and spat out flames
of fire over the huntsman, and was about to plunge down on him, but the
huntsman once more drew out his sword, and again cut off three of his
heads. The monster became faint and sank down, nevertheless it was just
able to rush upon the huntsman, but he with his last strength smote its
tail off, and as he could fight no longer, called up his animals who
tore it in pieces. When the struggle was ended, the huntsman unlocked
the church, and found the King’s daughter lying on the floor, as she
had lost her senses with anguish and terror during the contest. He
carried her out, and when she came to herself once more, and opened her
eyes, he showed her the dragon all cut to pieces, and told her that she
was now delivered. She rejoiced and said, “Now thou wilt be my dearest
husband, for my father has promised me to him who kills the dragon.”
Thereupon she took off her necklace of coral, and divided it amongst
the animals in order to reward them, and the lion received the golden
clasp. Her pocket-handkerchief, however, on which was her name, she
gave to the huntsman, who went and cut the tongues out of the dragon’s
seven heads, wrapped them in the handkerchief, and preserved them
carefully.

That done, as he was so faint and weary with the fire and the battle,
he said to the maiden, “We are both faint and weary, we will sleep
awhile.” Then she said, “yes,” and they lay down on the ground, and the
huntsman said to the lion, “Thou shalt keep watch, that no one
surprises us in our sleep,” and both fell asleep. The lion lay down
beside them to watch, but he also was so weary with the fight, that he
called to the bear and said, “Lie down near me, I must sleep a little:
if anything comes, waken me.” Then the bear lay down beside him, but he
also was tired, and called the wolf and said, “Lie down by me, I must
sleep a little, but if anything comes, waken me.” Then the wolf lay
down by him, but he was tired likewise, and called the fox and said,
“Lie down by me, I must sleep a little; if anything comes, waken me.”
Then the fox lay down beside him, but he too was weary, and called the
hare and said, “Lie down near me, I must sleep a little, and if
anything should come, waken me.” Then the hare sat down by him, but the
poor hare was tired too, and had no one whom he could call there to
keep watch, and fell asleep. And now the King’s daughter, the huntsman,
the lion, the bear, the wolf, the fox, and the hare, were all sleeping
a sound sleep. The marshal, however, who was to look on from a
distance, took courage when he did not see the dragon flying away with
the maiden, and finding that all the hill had become quiet, ascended
it. There lay the dragon hacked and hewn to pieces on the ground, and
not far from it were the King’s daughter and a huntsman with his
animals, and all of them were sunk in a sound sleep. And as he was
wicked and godless he took his sword, cut off the huntsman’s head, and
seized the maiden in his arms, and carried her down the hill. Then she
awoke and was terrified, but the marshal said, “Thou art in my hands,
thou shalt say that it was I who killed the dragon.” “I cannot do
that,” she replied, “for it was a huntsman with his animals who did
it.” Then he drew his sword, and threatened to kill her if she did not
obey him, and so compelled her that she promised it. Then he took her
to the King, who did not know how to contain himself for joy when he
once more looked on his dear child in life, whom he had believed to
have been torn to pieces by the monster. The marshal said to him, “I
have killed the dragon, and delivered the maiden and the whole kingdom
as well, therefore I demand her as my wife, as was promised.” The King
said to the maiden, “Is what he says true?” “Ah, yes,” she answered,
“it must indeed be true, but I will not consent to have the wedding
celebrated until after a year and a day,” for she thought in that time
she should hear something of her dear huntsman.

The animals, however, were still lying sleeping beside their dead
master on the dragon’s hill, and there came a great humble-bee and
lighted on the hare’s nose, but the hare wiped it off with his paw, and
went on sleeping. The humble-bee came a second time, but the hare again
rubbed it off and slept on. Then it came for the third time, and stung
his nose so that he awoke. As soon as the hare was awake, he roused the
fox, and the fox, the wolf, and the wolf the bear, and the bear the
lion. And when the lion awoke and saw that the maiden was gone, and his
master was dead, he began to roar frightfully and cried, “Who has done
that? Bear, why didst thou not waken me?” The bear asked the wolf, “Why
didst thou not waken me?” and the wolf the fox, “Why didst thou not
waken me?” and the fox the hare, “Why didst thou not waken me?” The
poor hare alone did not know what answer to make, and the blame rested
with him. Then they were just going to fall upon him, but he entreated
them and said, “Kill me not, I will bring our master to life again. I
know a mountain on which a root grows which, when placed in the mouth
of any one, cures him of all illness and every wound. But the mountain
lies two hundred hours journey from here.” The lion said, “In
four-and-twenty hours must thou have run thither and have come back,
and have brought the root with thee.” Then the hare sprang away, and in
four-and-twenty hours he was back, and brought the root with him. The
lion put the huntsman’s head on again, and the hare placed the root in
his mouth, and immediately everything united together again, and his
heart beat, and life came back. Then the huntsman awoke, and was
alarmed when he did not see the maiden, and thought, “She must have
gone away whilst I was sleeping, in order to get rid of me.” The lion
in his great haste had put his master’s head on the wrong way round,
but the huntsman did not observe it because of his melancholy thoughts
about the King’s daughter. But at noon, when he was going to eat
something, he saw that his head was turned backwards and could not
understand it, and asked the animals what had happened to him in his
sleep. Then the lion told him that they, too, had all fallen asleep
from weariness, and on awaking, had found him dead with his head cut
off, that the hare had brought the life-giving root, and that he, in
his haste, had laid hold of the head the wrong way, but that he would
repair his mistake. Then he tore the huntsman’s head off again, turned
it round, and the hare healed it with the root.

The huntsman, however, was sad at heart, and travelled about the world,
and made his animals dance before people. It came to pass that
precisely at the end of one year he came back to the same town where he
had delivered the King’s daughter from the dragon, and this time the
town was gaily hung with red cloth. Then he said to the host, “What
does this mean? Last year the town was all hung with black crape, what
means the red cloth to-day?” The host answered, “Last year our King’s
daughter was to have been delivered over to the dragon, but the marshal
fought with it and killed it, and so to-morrow their wedding is to be
solemnized, and that is why the town was then hung with black crape for
mourning, and is to-day covered with red cloth for joy?”

Next day when the wedding was to take place, the huntsman said at
mid-day to the inn-keeper, “Do you believe, sir host, that I while with
you here to-day shall eat bread from the King’s own table?” “Nay,” said
the host, “I would bet a hundred pieces of gold that that will not come
true.” The huntsman accepted the wager, and set against it a purse with
just the same number of gold pieces. Then he called the hare and said,
“Go, my dear runner, and fetch me some of the bread which the King is
eating.” Now the little hare was the lowest of the animals, and could
not transfer this order to any the others, but had to get on his legs
himself. “Alas!” thought he, “if I bound through the streets thus
alone, the butchers’ dogs will all be after me.” It happened as he
expected, and the dogs came after him and wanted to make holes in his
good skin. But he sprang away, have you have never seen one running?
and sheltered himself in a sentry-box without the soldier being aware
of it. Then the dogs came and wanted to have him out, but the soldier
did not understand a jest, and struck them with the butt-end of his
gun, till they ran away yelling and howling. As soon as the hare saw
that the way was clear, he ran into the palace and straight to the
King’s daughter, sat down under her chair, and scratched at her foot.
Then she said, “Wilt thou get away?” and thought it was her dog. The
hare scratched her foot for the second time, and she again said, “Wilt
thou get away?” and thought it was her dog. But the hare did not let
itself be turned from its purpose, and scratched her for the third
time. Then she peeped down, and knew the hare by its collar. She took
him on her lap, carried him into her chamber, and said, “Dear Hare,
what dost thou want?” He answered, “My master, who killed the dragon,
is here, and has sent me to ask for a loaf of bread like that which the
King eats.” Then she was full of joy and had the baker summoned, and
ordered him to bring a loaf such as was eaten by the King. The little
hare said, “But the baker must likewise carry it thither for me, that
the butchers’ dogs may do no harm to me.” The baker carried if for him
as far as the door of the inn, and then the hare got on his hind legs,
took the loaf in his front paws, and carried it to his master. Then
said the huntsman, “Behold, sir host, the hundred pieces of gold are
mine.” The host was astonished, but the huntsman went on to say, “Yes,
sir host, I have the bread, but now I will likewise have some of the
King’s roast meat.”

The host said, “I should indeed like to see that,” but he would make no
more wagers. The huntsman called the fox and said, “My little fox, go
and fetch me some roast meat, such as the King eats.” The red fox knew
the bye-ways better, and went by holes and corners without any dog
seeing him, seated himself under the chair of the King’s daughter, and
scratched her foot. Then she looked down and recognized the fox by its
collar, took him into her chamber with her and said, “Dear fox, what
dost thou want?” He answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is
here, and has sent me. I am to ask for some roast meat such as the King
is eating.” Then she made the cook come, who was obliged to prepare a
roast joint, the same as was eaten by the King, and to carry it for the
fox as far as the door. Then the fox took the dish, waved away with his
tail the flies which had settled on the meat, and then carried it to
his master. “Behold, sir host,” said the huntsman, “bread and meat are
here but now I will also have proper vegetables with it, such as are
eaten by the King.” Then he called the wolf, and said, “Dear Wolf, go
thither and fetch me vegetables such as the King eats.” Then the wolf
went straight to the palace, as he feared no one, and when he got to
the King’s daughter’s chamber, he twitched at the back of her dress, so
that she was forced to look round. She recognized him by his collar,
and took him into her chamber with her, and said, “Dear Wolf, what dost
thou want?” He answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is here, I
am to ask for some vegetables, such as the King eats.” Then she made
the cook come, and he had to make ready a dish of vegetables, such as
the King ate, and had to carry it for the wolf as far as the door, and
then the wolf took the dish from him, and carried it to his master.
“Behold, sir host,” said the huntsman, “now I have bread and meat and
vegetables, but I will also have some pastry to eat like that which the
King eats.” He called the bear, and said, “Dear Bear, thou art fond of
licking anything sweet; go and bring me some confectionery, such as the
King eats.” Then the bear trotted to the palace, and every one got out
of his way, but when he went to the guard, they presented their
muskets, and would not let him go into the royal palace. But he got up
on his hind legs, and gave them a few boxes on the ears, right and
left, with his paws, so that the whole watch broke up, and then he went
straight to the King’s daughter, placed himself behind her, and growled
a little. Then she looked behind her, knew the bear, and bade him go
into her room with her, and said, “Dear Bear, what dost thou want?” He
answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask
for some confectionery, such as the King eats.” Then she summoned her
confectioner, who had to bake confectionery such as the King ate, and
carry it to the door for the bear; then the bear first licked up the
comfits which had rolled down, and then he stood upright, took the
dish, and carried it to his master. “Behold, sir host,” said the
huntsman, “now I have bread, meat, vegetables and confectionery, but I
will drink wine also, and such as the King drinks.” He called his lion
to him and said, “Dear Lion, thou thyself likest to drink till thou art
intoxicated, go and fetch me some wine, such as is drunk by the King.”
Then the lion strode through the streets, and the people fled from him,
and when he came to the watch, they wanted to bar the way against him,
but he did but roar once, and they all ran away. Then the lion went to
the royal apartment, and knocked at the door with his tail. Then the
King’s daughter came forth, and was almost afraid of the lion, but she
knew him by the golden clasp of her necklace, and bade him go with her
into her chamber, and said, “Dear Lion, what wilt thou have?” He
answered, “My master, who killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask
for some wine such as is drunk by the King.” Then she bade the
cup-bearer be called, who was to give the lion some wine like that
which was drunk by the King. The lion said, “I will go with him, and
see that I get the right wine.” Then he went down with the cup-bearer,
and when they were below, the cup-bearer wanted to draw him some of the
common wine that was drunk by the King’s servants, but the lion said,
“Stop, I will taste the wine first,” and he drew half a measure, and
swallowed it down at one draught. “No,” said he, “that is not right.”
The cup-bearer looked at him askance, but went on, and was about to
give him some out of another barrel which was for the King’s marshal.
The lion said, “Stop, let me taste the wine first,” and drew half a
measure and drank it. “That is better, but still not right,” said he.
Then the cup-bearer grew angry and said, “How can a stupid animal like
you understand wine?” But the lion gave him a blow behind the ears,
which made him fall down by no means gently, and when he had got up
again, he conducted the lion quite silently into a little cellar apart,
where the King’s wine lay, from which no one ever drank. The lion first
drew half a measure and tried the wine, and then he said, That may
possibly be the right sort, and bade the cup-bearer fill six bottles of
it. And now they went upstairs again, but when the lion came out of the
cellar into the open air, he reeled here and there, and was rather
drunk, and the cup-bearer was forced to carry the wine as far as the
door for him, and then the lion took the handle of the basket in his
mouth, and took it to his master. The huntsman said, “Behold, sir host,
here have I bread, meat, vegetables, confectionery and wine such as the
King has, and now I will dine with my animals,” and he sat down and ate
and drank, and gave the hare, the fox, the wolf, the bear, and the lion
also to eat and to drink, and was joyful, for he saw that the King’s
daughter still loved him. And when he had finished his dinner, he said,
“Sir host, now have I eaten and drunk, as the King eats and drinks, and
now I will go to the King’s court and marry the King’s daughter.” Said
the host, “How can that be, when she already has a betrothed husband,
and when the wedding is to be solemnized to-day?” Then the huntsman
drew forth the handkerchief which the King’s daughter had given him on
the dragon’s hill, and in which were folded the monster’s seven
tongues, and said, “That which I hold in my hand shall help me to do
it.” Then the innkeeper looked at the handkerchief, and said, “Whatever
I believe, I do not believe that, and I am willing to stake my house
and courtyard on it.” The huntsman, however, took a bag with a thousand
gold pieces, put it on the table, and said, “I stake that on it.”

Now the King said to his daughter, at the royal table, “What did all
the wild animals want, which have been coming to thee, and going in and
out of my palace?” She replied, “I may not tell you, but send and have
the master of these animals brought, and you will do well.” The King
sent a servant to the inn, and invited the stranger, and the servant
came just as the huntsman had laid his wager with the innkeeper. Then
said he, “Behold, sir host, now the King sends his servant and invites
me, but I do not go in this way.” And he said to the servant, “I
request the Lord King to send me royal clothing, and a carriage with
six horses, and servants to attend me.” When the King heard the answer,
he said to his daughter, “What shall I do?” She said, “Cause him to be
fetched as he desires to be, and you will do well.” Then the King sent
royal apparel, a carriage with six horses, and servants to wait on him.
When the huntsman saw them coming, he said, “Behold, sir host, now I am
fetched as I desired to be,” and he put on the royal garments, took the
handkerchief with the dragon’s tongues with him, and drove off to the
King. When the King saw him coming, he said to his daughter, “How shall
I receive him?” She answered, “Go to meet him and you will do well.”
Then the King went to meet him and led him in, and his animals
followed. The King gave him a seat near himself and his daughter, and
the marshal, as bridegroom, sat on the other side, but no longer knew
the huntsman. And now at this very moment, the seven heads of the
dragon were brought in as a spectacle, and the King said, “The seven
heads were cut off the dragon by the marshal, wherefore to-day I give
him my daughter to wife.” The the huntsman stood up, opened the seven
mouths, and said, “Where are the seven tongues of the dragon?” Then was
the marshal terrified, and grew pale and knew not what answer he should
make, and at length in his anguish he said, “Dragons have no tongues.”
The huntsman said, “Liars ought to have none, but the dragon’s tongues
are the tokens of the victor,” and he unfolded the handkerchief, and
there lay all seven inside it. And he put each tongue in the mouth to
which it belonged, and it fitted exactly. Then he took the handkerchief
on which the name of the princess was embroidered, and showed it to the
maiden, and asked to whom she had given it, and she replied, “To him
who killed the dragon.” And then he called his animals, and took the
collar off each of them and the golden clasp from the lion, and showed
them to the maiden and asked to whom they belonged. She answered, “The
necklace and golden clasp were mine, but I divided them among the
animals who helped to conquer the dragon.” Then spake the huntsman,
“When I, tired with the fight, was resting and sleeping, the marshal
came and cut off my head. Then he carried away the King’s daughter, and
gave out that it was he who had killed the dragon, but that he lied I
prove with the tongues, the handkerchief, and the necklace.” And then
he related how his animals had healed him by means of a wonderful root,
and how he had travelled about with them for one year, and had at
length again come there and had learnt the treachery of the marshal by
the inn-keeper’s story. Then the King asked his daughter, “Is it true
that this man killed the dragon?” And she answered, “Yes, it is true.
Now can I reveal the wicked deed of the marshal, as it has come to
light without my connivance, for he wrung from me a promise to be
silent. For this reason, however, did I make the condition that the
marriage should not be solemnized for a year and a day.” Then the King
bade twelve councillors be summoned who were to pronounce judgment on
the marshal, and they sentenced him to be torn to pieces by four bulls.
The marshal was therefore executed, but the King gave his daughter to
the huntsman, and named him his viceroy over the whole kingdom. The
wedding was celebrated with great joy, and the young King caused his
father and his foster-father to be brought, and loaded them with
treasures. Neither did he forget the inn-keeper, but sent for him and
said, “Behold, sir host, I have married the King’s daughter, and your
house and yard are mine.” The host said, “Yes, according to justice it
is so.” But the young King said, “It shall be done according to mercy,”
and told him that he should keep his house and yard, and gave him the
thousand pieces of gold as well.

And now the young King and Queen were thoroughly happy, and lived in
gladness together. He often went out hunting because it was a delight
to him, and the faithful animals had to accompany him. In the
neighborhood, however, there was a forest of which it was reported that
it was haunted, and that whosoever did but enter it did not easily get
out again. The young King, however, had a great inclination to hunt in
it, and let the old King have no peace until he allowed him to do so.
So he rode forth with a great following, and when he came to the
forest, he saw a snow-white hart and said to his people, “Wait here
until I return, I want to chase that beautiful creature,” and he rode
into the forest after it, followed only by his animals. The attendants
halted and waited until evening, but he did not return, so they rode
home, and told the young Queen that the young King had followed a white
hart into the enchanted forest, and had not come back again. Then she
was in the greatest concern about him. He, however, had still continued
to ride on and on after the beautiful wild animal, and had never been
able to overtake it; when he thought he was near enough to aim, he
instantly saw it bound away into the far distance, and at length it
vanished altogether. And now he perceived that he had penetrated deep
into the forest, and blew his horn but he received no answer, for his
attendants could not hear it. And as night, too, was falling, he saw
that he could not get home that day, so he dismounted from his horse,
lighted himself a fire near a tree, and resolved to spend the night by
it. While he was sitting by the fire, and his animals also were lying
down beside him, it seemed to him that he heard a human voice. He
looked round, but could perceived nothing. Soon afterwards, he again
heard a groan as if from above, and then he looked up, and saw an old
woman sitting in the tree, who wailed unceasingly, “Oh, oh, oh, how
cold I am!” Said he, “Come down, and warm thyself if thou art cold.”
But she said, “No, thy animals will bite me.” He answered, “They will
do thee no harm, old mother, do come down.” She, however, was a witch,
and said, “I will throw down a wand from the tree, and if thou strikest
them on the back with it, they will do me no harm.” Then she threw him
a small wand, and he struck them with it, and instantly they lay still
and were turned into stone. And when the witch was safe from the
animals, she leapt down and touched him also with a wand, and changed
him to stone. Thereupon she laughed, and dragged him and the animals
into a vault, where many more such stones already lay.

As, however, the young King did not come back at all, the Queen’s
anguish and care grew constantly greater. And it so happened that at
this very time the other brother who had turned to the east when they
separated, came into the kingdom. He had sought a situation, and had
found none, and had then travelled about here and there, and had made
his animals dance. Then it came into his mind that he would just go and
look at the knife that they had thrust in the trunk of a tree at their
parting, that he might learn how his brother was. When he got there his
brother’s side of the knife was half rusted, and half bright. Then he
was alarmed and thought, “A great misfortune must have befallen my
brother, but perhaps I can still save him, for half the knife is still
bright.” He and his animals travelled towards the west, and when he
entered the gate of the town, the guard came to meet him, and asked if
he was to announce him to his consort the young Queen, who had for a
couple of days been in the greatest sorrow about his staying away, and
was afraid he had been killed in the enchanted forest? The sentries,
indeed, thought no otherwise than that he was the young King himself,
for he looked so like him, and had wild animals running behind him.
Then he saw that they were speaking of his brother, and thought, “It
will be better if I pass myself off for him, and then I can rescue him
more easily.” So he allowed himself to be escorted into the castle by
the guard, and was received with the greatest joy. The young Queen
indeed thought that he was her husband, and asked him why he had stayed
away so long. He answered, “I had lost myself in a forest, and could
not find my way out again any sooner.” At night he was taken to the
royal bed, but he laid a two-edged sword between him and the young
Queen; she did not know what that could mean, but did not venture to
ask.

He remained in the palace a couple of days, and in the meantime
inquired into everything which related to the enchanted forest, and at
last he said, “I must hunt there once more.” The King and the young
Queen wanted to persuade him not to do it, but he stood out against
them, and went forth with a larger following. When he had got into the
forest, it fared with him as with his brother; he saw a white hart and
said to his people, “Stay here, and wait until I return, I want to
chase the lovely wild beast,” and then he rode into the forest and his
animals ran after him. But he could not overtake the hart, and got so
deep into the forest that he was forced to pass the night there. And
when he had lighted a fire, he heard some one wailing above him, “Oh,
oh, oh, how cold I am!” Then he looked up, and the self-same witch was
sitting in the tree. Said he, “If thou art cold, come down, little old
mother, and warm thyself.” She answered, “No, thy animals will bite
me.” But he said, “They will not hurt thee.” Then she cried, “I will
throw down a wand to thee, and if thou smitest them with it they will
do me no harm.” When the huntsman heard that, he had no confidence in
the old woman, and said, “I will not strike my animals. Come down, or I
will fetch thee.” Then she cried, “What dost thou want? Thou shalt not
touch me.” But he replied, “If thou dost not come, I will shoot thee.”
Said she, “Shoot away, I do not fear thy bullets!” Then he aimed, and
fired at her, but the witch was proof against all leaden bullets, and
laughed, and yelled and cried, “Thou shalt not hit me.” The huntsman
knew what to do, tore three silver buttons off his coat, and loaded his
gun with them, for against them her arts were useless, and when he
fired she fell down at once with a scream. Then he set his foot on her
and said, Old witch, if thou dost not instantly confess where my
brother is, I will seize thee with both my hands and throw thee into
the fire. She was in a great fright, begged for mercy and said, He and
his animals lie in a vault, turned to stone. Then he compelled her to
go thither with him, threatened her, and said, Old sea-cat, now shalt
thou make my brother and all the human beings lying here, alive again,
or thou shalt go into the fire! She took a wand and touched the stones,
and then his brother with his animals came to life again, and many
others, merchants, artizans, and shepherds, arose, thanked him for
their deliverance, and went to their homes. But when the twin brothers
saw each other again, they kissed each other and rejoiced with all
their hearts. Then they seized the witch, bound her and laid her on the
fire, and when she was burnt the forest opened of its own accord, and
was light and clear, and the King’s palace could be seen at about the
distance of a three hours walk.

Thereupon the two brothers went home together, and on the way told each
other their histories. And when the youngest said that he was ruler of
the whole country in the King’s stead, the other observed, “That I
remarked very well, for when I came to the town, and was taken for
thee, all royal honours were paid me; the young Queen looked on me as
her husband, and I had to eat at her side, and sleep in thy bed.” When
the other heard that, he became so jealous and angry that he drew his
sword, and struck off his brother’s head. But when he saw him lying
there dead, and saw his red blood flowing, he repented most violently:
“My brother delivered me,” cried he, “and I have killed him for it,”
and he bewailed him aloud. Then his hare came and offered to go and
bring some of the root of life, and bounded away and brought it while
yet there was time, and the dead man was brought to life again, and
knew nothing about the wound.

After this they journeyed onwards, and the youngest said, “Thou lookest
like me, hast royal apparel on as I have, and the animals follow thee
as they do me; we will go in by opposite gates, and arrive at the same
time from the two sides in the aged King’s presence.” So they
separated, and at the same time came the watchmen from the one door and
from the other, and announced that the young King and the animals had
returned from the chase. The King said, “It is not possible, the gates
lie quite a mile apart.” In the meantime, however, the two brothers
entered the courtyard of the palace from opposite sides, and both
mounted the steps. Then the King said to the daughter, “Say which is
thy husband. Each of them looks exactly like the other, I cannot tell.”
Then she was in great distress, and could not tell; but at last she
remembered the necklace which she had given to the animals, and she
sought for and found her little golden clasp on the lion, and she cried
in her delight, “He who is followed by this lion is my true husband”.
Then the young King laughed and said, “Yes, he is the right one,” and
they sat down together to table, and ate and drank, and were merry. At
night when the young King went to bed, his wife said, “Why hast thou
for these last nights always laid a two-edged sword in our bed? I
thought thou hadst a wish to kill me.” Then he knew how true his
brother had been.