Grimm's Household Tales

Two or three hundred years ago, when people were far from being as crafty and cunning as they are nowadays, an extraordinary event took place in a little town. By some mishap, one of the great owls called horned owls had come from the neighboring woods into the barn of one of the townsfolk during the night, and when day broke she did not dare to venture out again from her retreat, for fear of the other birds, which raised a terrible outcry whenever she appeared. In the morning, when the manservant went into the barn to fetch some straw, he was so greatly alarmed at the sight of the owl sitting there in a corner that he ran away and announced to his master that a monster—one the like of which he had never seen in his life, and one that could devour a man without the slightest difficulty—was sitting in the barn, rolling its eyes about in its head. “I know you already,” said the master. “You have courage enough to chase a blackbird about the fields, but when you see a dead hen lying there, you have to get a stick before you go near it. I must go and see for myself what kind of monster it is,” added the master, and he went quite boldly into the granary and looked around him. When, however, he saw the strange, grim creature with his own eyes, he was no less terrified than the servant had been. With two bounds he sprang out, ran to his neighbors, and begged them imploringly to lend him assistance against an unknown and dangerous beast, or else the whole town might be in danger if it were to break loose out of the barn, where it was shut up. A great noise and clamor arose in all the streets; the townsmen came armed with spears, hayforks, scythes, and axes, as if they were going out against an enemy; finally, the senators appeared with the burgomaster at their head. When they had drawn up in the marketplace, they marched to the barn and surrounded it on all sides. Thereupon one of the most courageous of them stepped forward and entered with his spear lowered, but he came running out immediately afterward with a shriek, as pale as death, and could not utter a single word. Then two others ventured in, but they fared no better. At last one stepped forward—a great, strong man who was famous for his warlike deeds—and said, “You will not drive away the monster merely by looking at him; we must be in earnest here, but I see that you have all turned into women, and not one of you dares to encounter the animal.” He ordered them to give him some armor, had a sword and spear brought, and armed himself. All praised his courage, though many feared for his life. The two barn doors were opened, and they saw the owl, which in the meantime had perched on the middle of a great crossbeam. He had a ladder brought, and when he raised it and made ready to climb up, they all cried out to him to bear himself bravely and entrusted him to St. George, who slew the dragon. When he had just reached the top, and the owl perceived that he had designs on her, and was also bewildered by the crowd and the shouting, and did not know how to escape, she rolled her eyes, ruffled her feathers, flapped her wings, snapped her beak, and cried, “Tuwhit, tuwhoo,” in a harsh voice. “Strike home! Strike home!” screamed the crowd outside to the valiant hero. “Anyone who was standing where I am standing,” he answered, “would not cry, ‘Strike home!’” He certainly did plant his foot one rung higher on the ladder, but then he began to tremble and, half fainting, went back down again.

And now there was no one left who dared to put himself in such danger. “The monster,” they said, “has poisoned and mortally wounded the very strongest man among us by snapping at him and just breathing on him! Are we, too, to risk our lives?” They consulted together as to what they ought to do to prevent the whole town from being destroyed. For a long time everything seemed to be of no use, but at length the burgomaster found an expedient. “My opinion,” he said, “is that we ought, out of the common purse, to pay for this barn and whatever grain, straw, or hay it contains, and thus indemnify the owner, and then burn down the whole building and the terrible beast with it. Thus no one will have to endanger his life. This is no time for thinking of expense, and stinginess would be misplaced.” All agreed with him. So they set fire to the barn at all four corners, and the owl was miserably burned with it. Those who do not believe it may go there and inquire for themselves.