Let us first follow the youngest brother in his wanderings. He
travelled, with his attendant animals, all that day and the following
night without stopping, and the next day saw before him a king’s
palace, and went straight towards it. Having been taken into the
presence of the king, he begged his Majesty to employ him in watching
his goats. The king consented to take him as goat-herd, and from that
day he had the charge of the king’s goats and lived on thus quietly for
a long time.
One day the new goat-herd chanced to drive his flock to a high hill,
not far from the king’s palace. On the summit of the hill there was a
very tall pine-tree, and the instant he saw it he resolved to climb up
and look about from its top on the surrounding country. Accordingly, he
climbed up, and enjoyed exceedingly the extensive and beautiful
prospect. As he looked in one direction he saw, a long way off, a great
smoke arising from a mountain. The moment he saw the smoke he fancied
that one of his brothers must be there, as he thought it unlikely that
anyone else would be in such a wilderness. So he resolved at once to
give up his place of goat-herd, and travel to the mountain which he had
seen in the distance. Coming down from the tree, therefore, he
immediately collected his goats, which was a very easy task for him to
do, since he had such good help in his bear, his wolf, his dog, and his
cat.
No sooner had he reached the palace than he went straight to the king
and said, “Sir, I can no longer be your Majesty’s goat-herd. I must go
away, for I saw to-day a smoking mountain, and I believe that one of my
brothers is there, and I wish to go and see if this be so. I therefore
beg your Majesty to pay me what you owe me, and to let me go!” All this
time he thought the king knew nothing about the smoking mountain.
When he had said this, however, the king immediately began to advise
him on no account to go to the mountain—for, as he assured him, whoever
went there never came back again. He told him that all who had gone
thither seemed at once to have sunk into the earth, for no one ever
heard anything more about them. All the king’s warnings and counsels,
however, availed nothing; the goat-herd was bent on going to the
smoking mountain, and looking after his two brothers.
After he had made all preparations for the journey he set out,
accompanied, as usual, by his four animals. He went straight to the
mountain; but, having got there, he could not at first find the fire.
Indeed, he had trouble enough before he discovered it. At length,
however, he found a large fire burning under a beech tree, and went
near it to warm himself. At the same time he looked about on all sides
to see who had made the fire. After looking about some time he heard a
woman’s voice, and upon his looking up to see whence the sound came, he
saw an old woman sitting on one of the branches above his head. She sat
huddled together all of a heap, and shaking with cold.
No sooner had he discovered her than the old woman begged him to allow
her to come down to the fire and warm herself a little. So he told her
she might come down and warm herself as soon as she pleased. She
answered, however, “Oh, my son, I dare not come down because of your
company. I am afraid of the animals you have with you—your bear, and
wolf, and dog, and cat.”
At this he tried to reassure her and said, “Don’t be afraid! They will
do you no harm.” However, she would not trust them, so she plucked a
hair from her head, and threw it down, saying, “Put that hair on their
necks and then I shall not be afraid to come down.”
Accordingly the man took the hair and threw it over his animals, and in
a moment the hair was turned into an iron chain which kept his
four-footed followers bound fast together.
When the old woman saw that he had done as she desired, she came down
from the tree and took her place by the fire. She seemed at first a
very little woman; as she sat by the fire, however, she began to grow
larger. When he saw this he was greatly astonished, and said to her,
“But, my old woman, it seems to me that you grow bigger and bigger!”
Thereupon she answered, shivering, “Ha! ha! no, no, my son! I am only
warming myself!” But, nevertheless, she continued to grow taller and
taller, and had already grown half as tall as the beech-tree. The
goat-herd watched her growing with wide-open eyes, and, beginning to
get frightened, said again, “But really you are getting a fearful size,
and are growing taller and taller every moment.”
“Ha, ha, my son,” she coughed and shivered, “I am only warming myself!”
Seeing, however, that she was now as tall as the tallest beech-tree,
and, fearing that his life was in danger, he called anxiously to his
companions, “Hold her fast, my bear! Hold her fast, my wolf! Hold her
fast, my dog! Hold her fast, my cat!” But it was all in vain that he
called to them; none of them could move a step from his place. When he
saw that, he endeavoured to run away, but found that he could no more
move from his place than if he were fast chained to it. Then the old
woman, seeing everything had gone on just as she wished, bent down a
little, and, touching him with her little finger, said, “Go, you have
lost your head!” and the self-same moment he turned to ashes. After
that, she touched, with the little toe of her left foot, all his
animals, one after the other, and they also turned at once to ashes as
their master had done.
Having collected all the ashes she buried them under an oak-tree. Then
as soon as she took the iron chain in her hand, it turned again into a
hair, which she put back into its place on her head.
She had before done with many young and noble knights just as she had
now done with this poor goat-herd.
The second brother, after serving a long time in a strange place, was
seized with a great desire to go to the oak-tree at the cross-roads,
where he had parted with his brothers, in order to see if their knives
were still sticking in the tree. When he got there, he found the knife
of his eldest brother still firmly fixed in the trunk of the oak, but
his youngest brother’s knife had fallen to the ground. Then he knew
that his younger brother was dead, or in great danger of death, and he
resolved at once to follow the way he had gone and try to discover what
had become of him. Going then along the same road which his younger
brother had travelled, he came, on the third day, to the king’s palace,
and went in and begged the king to take him into his service. Whereupon
the king took him as goat-herd, exactly as he had taken before the
youngest brother.
When the second brother had tended the king’s goats a long time, he one
day drove them up a high hill, and, finding there a very tall
pine-tree, resolved at once to climb up to its top and look about to
see what kind of a country lay on the other side of the hill. When he
had looked round a while from the tree he noticed a great volume of
smoke rising from a mountain afar off, and the thought came at once to
his mind that his brothers might be there. Accordingly, he came down
quickly, collected his goats, and went back to the king’s palace,
followed by his four companions, that is to say, by his bear, his wolf,
his dog, and his cat. When he had reached the palace he went straight
to the king, and begged him to pay him his wages at once, and to let
him go to look after his brothers; for he had seen a smoke upon a
mountain, and he believed they were there. The king tried in vain to
dissuade him by telling him that none who went there ever came back;
but all his Majesty’s words availed nothing. Thereupon, seeing he was
decided on going, the king paid him what he owed him, and let him go.
He at once set out, and went straight to the mountain; but, when he got
there, he was a long time before he could find any fire. At last,
however, he found one burning under a beech-tree, and he went up to it
to warm himself, wondering all the time who had made it, since he saw
no one near. As he warmed himself he heard a woman’s voice in the tree
above his head, and, looking up, saw there an old woman huddled up on a
branch, and shaking with cold.
As soon as he saw her, the old woman asked him to let her come down and
warm herself by the fire, and he told her she might come and warm
herself as long as she liked.
She said, however, “I am afraid of the company which you have with you.
Take this hair and lay it over your bear, and wolf, and dog, and cat,
and then I shall be able to come down.”
So saying, she pulled a hair out of her head and threw it down. He
laughed at her fears, and assured her that his companions would not
hurt her; finding, however, notwithstanding all he said, that she was
still afraid to come down from the tree, he at last took the hair and
laid it on the beasts as she had directed. In an instant the hair
turned into an iron chain, and bound the four animals fast together.
Then the old woman came down, and took a place by the fire to warm
herself. As the second brother watched her warming herself, he saw her
grow bigger and bigger, until she had grown half as tall as the
beech-tree.
Wondering greatly, he exclaimed, “Old woman, you are growing bigger and
bigger.” “Hy, hy! my son,” said she, coughing and shivering, “I am only
warming myself.” But when he saw that she was already as tall as the
beech-tree, he became frightened, and called to his companions, “Hold
her, my bear! hold her, my wolf! hold her, my dog! hold her, my cat.”
They were none of them, however, able to move, so fast were they held
together by the iron chain.
Seeing that, the old woman stooped down and touched him with her little
finger, and he fell immediately into ashes. Then she touched the four
animals, one after the other, with the little toe of her left foot, and
they, also, crumbled to ashes.
No sooner had the old woman done this than she collected all the ashes
in a heap and buried them under an oak-tree. As she had before done
with the ashes of many a youthful knight and gentleman, so she did now
with those of this poor simple man. Pity, if they were to die, that
some more worthy means than one hair from the head of a miserable old
woman had not brought about their deaths!
A very long time had passed, and yet the eldest brother never once
thought of going back to the cross-roads where he had parted with his
brothers. He was engaged in the service of a good and honest master,
and, finding himself so well off, fancied that his brothers were the
same. His master was an innkeeper, and the whole work of the servant
was to prepare, morning and evening, the beds of the guests. He did his
duty so well that his master thought of adopting him for his son, as he
himself was childless.
One day a gentleman of great distinction came to pass the night at the
inn, and the servant thought that the stranger looked remarkably like
his youngest brother. He wished to ask him his name, but could not for
shame, partly because he feared his brother would reproach him for
having forgotten to go to the cross-roads; partly because the guest’s
manners were so polished and his clothes were of fine silk and velvet;
whereas he had left his brother very poorly clad, and of rustic
manners.
As he thought of the likeness which the guest bore to his youngest
brother, he considered that, in his travels about the world, his
brother might have found wisdom, and by his wisdom might have succeeded
in some way of business, and by his business might have gained money;
and then, having got money, that it would be easy for him to get as
fine clothes as the stranger wore. Reasoning thus, he took courage at
last to ask the gentleman about his family, and at length grew bold
enough to ask him plainly if he was not his brother.
This, however, the stranger quickly and positively denied, and asked,
in return, about the servant’s family. To all the particulars which the
servant gave him he listened with a smile.
Next morning, the guest left the inn very early; and when the servant
went to arrange the bed in which he had slept, he found, under the
pillow, a little stone.
He thought the stone must be valuable, having been in the possession of
so rich a man, and yet he considered its loss could hardly be felt by
one who went clothed in silks and velvets. He lifted it to his lips to
kiss it, before putting it in his pocket; but the moment his lips
touched it, two negroes started out and asked him, “What are your
orders, sir?” He was frightened by the suddenness of their appearance,
and answered, “I do not order anything.” Then the negroes disappeared,
and he put the stone in his pocket.
The more he thought of this, the more he marvelled at the wonderful
stone, and considered what he should do with it. By-and-by, in order to
find out what the negroes could do, he took the stone out of his
pocket, and raised it again to his lips. The moment he did so, the
negroes reappeared, and asked him again, “What do you demand, sir?” He
replied quickly, “I desire to have the finest clothes prepared for me,
of which no two pieces must be made from the same kind of stuff.” In a
very few moments the negroes brought him the most beautiful clothes
possible; so fine indeed were they all, that he could not decide which
piece was the most beautiful. Then, dismissing the negroes, who
disappeared in the stone, he dressed himself. He was admiring the fine
fit of his clothes, when his master came to the door of his room, and,
seeing a stranger in such an exceedingly rich dress, said humbly,
“Excuse me, sir, where do you come from?”
“From not far off,” the servant answered.
“Wait a moment, sir,” said the innkeeper; “I will call my servant to
take your orders;” and, going outside, he called loudly for his
servant.
Meanwhile, the servant quickly threw off his fine clothes and gave them
back to the negroes. Dressing himself hurriedly in his old clothes, he
rushed out of his room. Then, finding the pantry open, he began to
arrange the things.
His master found him employed in this way, and ordered him at once to
leave that business, and to go into the house to make coffee for a
distinguished guest who had that moment arrived.
The strange guest, however, was nowhere to be found. The innkeeper
looked, with his servant, into all the rooms, but there was no sign of
a guest anywhere. Then the master, greatly astonished, thought that
some thieves had been playing him a trick, and bid the servant in
future to look more sharply who came in and who went out of the inn.
The servant listened quietly to his master; but, having once remembered
his brothers, he had now an irresistible desire to look after them, and
so he told the innkeeper that he had resolved to go away, and desired
that he might be paid his wages.
The innkeeper was very sad at hearing this, and offered to raise his
wages, and tried all means to keep him; but it was of no use. Seeing
that the servant was resolved to go away, the master then paid him, and
let him leave the inn. Then the eldest brother took with him his four
animals—his bear, wolf, dog, and cat, and went away.
After travelling a very long time, his good fortune brought him to the
cross-roads where he had parted with his brothers. Instantly he rushed
to the oak to see if the knives were still sticking in it, but his own
knife alone stood in the tree. The two others had fallen out, and he
was much grieved at this, believing that his brothers were dead or that
they were in great danger. In his trouble he had quite forgotten the
wonderful hair and stone which he possessed. He resolved to go and
search after his brothers, and therefore went along the same road his
youngest brother had taken when they parted.
As he travelled he remembered the hair which the winged horse had given
him, and the stone which he had found at the inn; but these did not
much console him, he was so exceedingly sorry for his brothers. After
travelling some time he found himself before a large palace, the
door-keeper of which asked him if he would take charge of the king’s
goats. He said he would, if the king could only tell him something
about his two brothers, who had travelled that way with a similar
company to that which he had. The king said that no men with such a
company had passed that way during his reign; and this was quite true,
inasmuch as he had only recently mounted the throne, the old king,
under whom the two brothers had served, having lately died. However,
though the eldest brother could learn nothing of his two younger
brothers, he decided to stay some time there, and so engaged himself to
the king as goat-keeper.
As he drove the goats out, day by day, he looked about on all sides for
some trace of his brothers; for, although their knives had fallen out
of the oak-tree, he tried to believe that they were not dead.
One day, as he thus wandered about with his goats, he met an old man,
who was going to the forest, with his axe on his shoulder, to cut wood.
So he asked him if he had seen anything of his two brothers. The old
man answered, “Who knows? Perhaps they have been lost on that mountain
where so many other men have lost their lives. Drive your goats up that
high hill; from its top you will see a much higher mountain, which
smokes, and never ceases to smoke. On that mountain many people have
been lost; perhaps your brothers also have perished there. I will,
however, give you one piece of good advice. Do not go, for anything in
the world, to the place where it smokes. I am now an old man, but I
never remember to have seen one man return who went there. Therefore,
if your life is dear to you, do not go up that mountain.” So saying the
old man went off.
The goat-keeper drove his goats up the hill, and from its top he saw,
as he had been told, a very high mountain which smoked. He tried to
discover if any living creature was thereon, but he could not see the
traces of a single one there. He considered within himself whether he
should go there or not, and, after revolving it over in his mind, he at
length determined to go.
In the evening, when he drove the goats home, he told the king of his
intention. The king tried hard to dissuade him, and promised to raise
his wages if he would stay with him; however, nothing could turn him
from his resolution. So the king paid him, and he went away.
Having come to the mountain he found the fire, and wondered who lit it.
As he thought over this he heard a woman’s voice, saying, “Hy, hy!” So
he looked up, and was astonished at seeing, in the branches of the
beech-tree over his head, an old woman huddled together. Her hair was
longer than her body, and as white as snow. When he looked up, she said
to him, “My son, I am so cold. I should like to warm myself, but I am
afraid of your beasts. I made that fire myself, but, seeing you coming
with your animals, I was frightened, and got up here to save myself.”
“Well, you can now come down again, and warm yourself as much as you
please,” said he. However, she protested, “I dare not—your beasts would
bite me. But I will throw you a hair, and you shall bind them with it.
Then I can come down.” The eldest brother thought to himself: the hair
must be a very singular hair indeed, if it could bind his bear, his
wolf, his dog, and his cat. So, instead of throwing it over the
animals, he threw it into the fire. Meanwhile the old woman came down
from the tree, and they both sat by the fire. But he never moved his
eyes from her.
Very soon she began to grow, and grow, and in a short time she was ten
yards high. Then he remembered the words of the old wood-cutter, and
trembled. However, he only said to her, “How you are growing, auntie.”
“Oh, no, my son,” she answered, “I am only warming myself.” She still
grew taller and taller, and had grown as tall as the beech-tree, when
he again exclaimed, “But how you are growing, old woman!”
“Oh, no, my son. I am only warming myself,” she repeated as before.
But he saw that she meant him mischief, so he shouted to his
companions, “Hold her, my dog! hold her, my little bear! hold her, my
little wolf! hold her my pussy!” Thereupon they all jumped on the old
woman, and began to tear her. Seeing she was unable to help herself,
she begged him to save her from her furious enemies, and promised she
would give him whatever he asked. “Well,” said he, “I demand that you
bring back to life my two brothers, with their companions, and all
those you have destroyed. Besides that, I demand ten loads of ducats.
If you will not comply with these demands, I shall leave you to be torn
to pieces by my animals.” The old woman agreed to do all this, only she
begged hard that one man should not be brought back to life, because
she had said, when she had turned him to ashes, “When you arise, may I
lie down in your place!” and, therefore, she was afraid she should be
turned to ashes herself if he came back to life.
As the eldest brother, however, thought that she was trying to cheat
him, he would not comply with her request.
Finding that she could not otherwise help herself, she at length said
to him, “Take some ashes from that heap under the tree, and throw them
over yourself and your company, and whilst you do so say, ‘Arise up,
dust and ashes—what I am now may you also be!’”
Wonder of wonders! The moment he did as she told him, there arose up
crowds of men—more than ten thousand of them. On seeing such a
multitude of people coming from under the tree, he was almost struck
senseless with astonishment. But he explained to them briefly what had
happened. Most of them thanked him heartily; some, however, of them
would not believe him, and said with anger, “We would rather you had
not awakened us.” Then they went away in crowds; some took one way,
some another, until they were all dispersed. Only his two brothers
remained behind; though they, too, for some time could not believe that
he was their brother. However, when they saw that their animals
recognised his, they remembered that no one but themselves had had such
a strange company of beasts. Having recognised each other, the brothers
fell into each other’s arms, and embraced affectionately. Then they
divided the ducats which the old woman had given to the eldest, loaded
their animals with their treasures, and went straight away towards the
place where they were born, and where their parents had died.
As for the old woman, when the last man arose from the ashes under the
oak-tree, she herself crumbled into ashes under it.