Grimm's Household Tales

There was once a man who was skilled in all kinds of arts. He served in the war and behaved well and bravely, but when the war was over, he received his dismissal and three farthings for his expenses on the way. “Stop,” he said, “I will not be content with this. If I can only meet the right people, the King will yet have to give me all the treasure of the country.” Then, full of anger, he went into the forest and saw a man standing there who had pulled up six trees as if they were stalks of grain. He said to him, “Will you be my servant and go with me?” “Yes,” he answered, “but first I will take this little bundle of sticks home to my mother,” and he took one of the trees and wrapped it around the other five, lifted the bundle onto his back, and carried it away. Then he returned and went with his master, who said, “We two ought to be able to get through the world very well.” And when they had walked on for a short while, they found a huntsman who was kneeling, had shouldered his gun, and was about to fire. The master said to him, “Huntsman, what are you going to shoot?” He answered, “Two miles from here a fly is sitting on the branch of an oak tree, and I want to shoot its left eye out.” “Oh, come with me,” said the man. “If we three are together, we ought to be able to get on in the world!” The huntsman was ready and went with him, and they came to seven windmills whose sails were turning around with great speed, and yet no wind was blowing either on the right or on the left, and no leaf was stirring. Then the man said, “I do not know what is driving the windmills; not a breath of air is stirring,” and he went onward with his servants, and when they had walked two miles, they saw a man sitting in a tree who was shutting one nostril and blowing out of the other. “Good gracious! What are you doing up there?” He answered, “Two miles from here are seven windmills. Look, I am blowing them until they turn around.” “Oh, come with me,” said the man. “If we four are together, we will carry the whole world before us!” Then the blower came down and went with him, and after a while they saw a man who was standing on one leg and had taken off the other and laid it beside him. Then the master said, “You have arranged things very comfortably to take a rest.” “I am a runner,” he replied, “and to keep myself from running far too fast, I have taken off one of my legs, for if I run with both, I go faster than any bird can fly.” “Oh, go with me. If we five are together, we will carry the whole world before us.” So he went with them, and it was not long before they met a man who wore a cap but had tilted it far over onto one ear. Then the master said to him, “Gracefully, gracefully! Don’t stick your cap on one ear; you look just like a fool!” “I must not wear it any other way,” he said, “for if I set my hat straight, a terrible frost comes on, and all the birds in the air are frozen and drop dead on the ground.” “Oh, come with me,” said the master. “If we six are together, we can carry the whole world before us.”

Now the six came to a town where the King had proclaimed that whoever ran a race with his daughter and won should be her husband, but whoever lost must lose his head. Then the man presented himself and said, “I will, however, let my servant run for me.” The King replied, “Then his life must also be staked, so that his head and yours are both set on the victory.” When that was settled and made secure, the man buckled the other leg onto the runner and said to him, “Now be nimble, and help us to win.” It was agreed that the first to bring some water from a distant well would be the victor. The runner received a pitcher, and the King’s daughter received one too, and they began to run at the same time. But in an instant, when the King’s daughter had gone only a very little way, the people who were looking on could see no more of the runner, and it was just as if the wind had whistled by. In a short time he reached the well, filled his pitcher with water, and turned back. Halfway home, however, he was overcome with fatigue, set his pitcher down, lay down himself, and fell asleep. He had, however, made a pillow of a horse’s skull that was lying on the ground, so that he would lie uncomfortably and soon wake up again. In the meantime the King’s daughter, who could also run very well—quite as well as any ordinary mortal can—had reached the well and was hurrying back with her pitcher full of water. When she saw the runner lying there asleep, she was glad and said, “My enemy is delivered into my hands,” emptied his pitcher, and ran on. And now all would have been lost if, by good luck, the huntsman had not been standing at the top of the castle and had not seen everything with his sharp eyes. Then he said, “The King’s daughter will still not prevail against us,” and he loaded his gun and shot so cleverly that he shot the horse’s skull away from under the runner’s head without hurting him. Then the runner awoke, leaped up, and saw that his pitcher was empty and that the King’s daughter was already far ahead. He did not lose heart, however, but ran back to the well with his pitcher, drew some water again, and was home ten minutes before the King’s daughter. “Look!” he said. “I have not exerted myself until now. What I did before did not deserve to be called running.”

But it pained the King, and his daughter still more, that she should be carried off by a common discharged soldier like that, so they consulted with each other about how to get rid of him and his companions. Then the King said to her, “I have thought of a way. Don’t be afraid; they will not come back again.” And he said to them, “Now you will make merry together and eat and drink,” and he led them to a room that had a floor of iron; the doors were also of iron, and the windows were guarded with iron bars. There was a table in the room covered with delicious food, and the King said to them, “Go in and enjoy yourselves.” And when they were inside, he ordered the doors to be shut and bolted. Then he sent for the cook and commanded him to make a fire under the room until the iron became red-hot. The cook did this, and the six who were sitting at the table began to feel quite warm, and they thought the heat was caused by the food. But as it became still greater, and they wanted to get out and found that the doors and windows were bolted, they realized that the King had an evil intention and wanted to suffocate them. “He will not succeed, however,” said the one with the cap. “I will cause a frost to come, before which the fire will be ashamed and creep away.” Then he put his cap on straight, and immediately there came such a frost that all heat disappeared, and the food on the dishes began to freeze. When an hour or two had passed, and the King believed that they had perished in the heat, he had the doors opened to see them himself. But when the doors were opened, all six were standing there, alive and well, and said that they would very much like to get out to warm themselves, for the very food was frozen fast to the dishes with the cold. Then, full of anger, the King went down to the cook, scolded him, and asked why he had not done what he had been ordered to do. But the cook replied, “There is heat enough there. Just look for yourself.” Then the King saw that a fierce fire was burning under the iron room, and he realized that there was no getting the better of the six in this way.

Again the King considered how to get rid of his unpleasant guests, and he had their chief brought and said, “If you will take gold and renounce my daughter, you will have as much as you wish.”

“Oh, yes, Lord King,” he answered, “give me as much as my servant can carry, and I will not ask for your daughter.”

At this the King was satisfied, and the other continued, “In fourteen days I will come and fetch it.” Then the master summoned all the tailors in the whole kingdom together, and they had to sit for fourteen days and sew a sack. And when it was ready, the strong one who could tear up trees had to take it on his back and go with it to the King. Then the King said, “Who can that strong fellow be who is carrying a bundle of linen on his back that is as big as a house?” and he was alarmed and said, “What a lot of gold he can carry away!” Then he commanded a ton of gold to be brought. It took sixteen of his strongest men to carry it, but the strong one snatched it up in one hand, put it in his sack, and said, “Why don’t you bring more at the same time? That hardly covers the bottom!” Then, little by little, the King had all his treasure brought there, and the strong one pushed it into the sack, and still the sack was not half full. “Bring more,” he cried. “These few crumbs don’t fill it.” Then seven thousand carts with gold had to be gathered together in the whole kingdom, and the strong one thrust them and the oxen harnessed to them into his sack. “I will examine it no longer,” he said, “but will just take what comes, as long as the sack is full.” When all that was inside, there was still room for a great deal more. Then he said, “I will just make an end of it; people do sometimes tie up a sack even when it is not full.” So he took it on his back and went away with his comrades. When the King now saw how a single man was carrying away the entire wealth of the country, he became enraged, commanded his horsemen to mount and pursue the six, and ordered them to take the sack away from the strong one. Two regiments speedily overtook the six and called out, “You are prisoners! Put down the sack with the gold, or you will all be cut to pieces!” “What are you saying?” cried the blower. “That we are prisoners! Rather than let that happen, all of you will dance about in the air.” And he closed one nostril and with the other blew on the two regiments. Then they were driven away from each other and carried into the blue sky over all the mountains, one here, the other there. One sergeant cried for mercy; he had nine wounds and was a brave fellow who did not deserve ill treatment. The blower let up a little, so that the sergeant came down without injury, and then the blower said to him, “Now go home to your King and tell him he had better send some more horsemen, and I will blow them all into the air.” When the King was informed of this, he said, “Let the rascals go. They have the best of it.” Then the six carried the riches home, divided them among themselves, and lived contentedly until their death.