Chapter Chapter 50 · The Knapsack, the Hat, and the Horn

. The Knapsack, the Hat, and the Horn

There were once three brothers who had fallen deeper and deeper into

poverty, and at last their need was so great that they had to endure

hunger, and had nothing to eat or drink. Then said they, “We cannot go

on thus, we had better go into the world and seek our fortune.” They

therefore set out, and had already walked over many a long road and

many a blade of grass, but had not yet met with good luck. One day they

arrived in a great forest, and in the midst of it was a hill, and when

they came nearer they saw that the hill was all silver. Then spoke the

eldest, “Now I have found the good luck I wished for, and I desire

nothing more.” He took as much of the silver as he could possibly

carry, and then turned back and went home again. But the two others

said, “We want something more from good luck than mere silver,” and did

not touch it, but went onwards. After they had walked for two days

longer without stopping, they came to a hill which was all gold. The

second brother stopped, took thought with himself, and was undecided.

“What shall I do?” said he; “shall I take for myself so much of this

gold, that I have sufficient for all the rest of my life, or shall I go

farther?” At length he made a decision, and putting as much into his

pockets as would go in, said farewell to his brother, and went home.

But the third said, “Silver and gold do not move me, I will not

renounce my chance of fortune, perhaps something better still will be

given me.” He journeyed onwards, and when he had walked for three days,

he got into a forest which was still larger than the one before, and

never would come to an end, and as he found nothing to eat or to drink,

he was all but exhausted. Then he climbed up a high tree to find out if

up there he could see the end of the forest, but so far as his eye

could pierce he saw nothing but the tops of trees. Then he began to

descend the tree again, but hunger tormented him, and he thought to

himself, “If I could but eat my fill once more!” When he got down he

saw with astonishment a table beneath the tree richly spread with food,

the steam of which rose up to meet him. “This time,” said he, “my wish

has been fulfilled at the right moment.” And without inquiring who had

brought the food, or who had cooked it, he approached the table, and

ate with enjoyment until he had appeased his hunger. When he was done,

he thought, “It would after all be a pity if the pretty little

table-cloth were to be spoilt in the forest here,” and folded it up

tidily and put it in his pocket. Then he went onwards, and in the

evening, when hunger once more made itself felt, he wanted to make a

trial of his little cloth, and spread it out and said, “I wish thee to

be covered with good cheer again,” and scarcely had the wish crossed

his lips than as many dishes with the most exquisite food on them stood

on the table as there was room for. “Now I perceive,” said he, “in what

kitchen my cooking is done. Thou shalt be dearer to me than the

mountains of silver and gold.” For he saw plainly that it was a

wishing-cloth. The cloth, however, was still not enough to enable him

to sit down quietly at home; he preferred to wander about the world and

pursue his fortune farther.

One night he met, in a lonely wood, a dusty, black charcoal-burner, who

was burning charcoal there, and had some potatoes by the fire, on which

he was going to make a meal. “Good evening, blackbird!” said the youth.

“How dost thou get on in thy solitude?”

“One day is like another,” replied the charcoal-burner, “and every

night potatoes! Hast thou a mind to have some, and wilt thou be my

guest?” “Many thanks,” replied the traveler, “I won’t rob thee of thy

supper; thou didst not reckon on a visitor, but if thou wilt put up

with what I have, thou shalt have an invitation.”

“Who is to prepare it for thee?” said the charcoal-burner. “I see that

thou hast nothing with thee, and there is no one within a two hours’

walk who could give thee anything.” “And yet there shall be a meal,”

answered the youth, “and better than any thou hast ever tasted.”

Thereupon he brought his cloth out of his knapsack, spread it on the

ground, and said, “Little cloth, cover thyself,” and instantly boiled

meat and baked meat stood there, and as hot as if it had just come out

of the kitchen. The charcoal-burner stared, but did not require much

pressing; he fell to, and thrust larger and larger mouthfuls into his

black mouth. When they had eaten everything, the charcoal-burner smiled

contentedly, and said, “Hark thee, thy table-cloth has my approval; it

would be a fine thing for me in this forest, where no one ever cooks me

anything good. I will propose an exchange to thee; there in the corner

hangs a soldier’s knapsack, which is certainly old and shabby, but in

it lie concealed wonderful powers; but, as I no longer use it, I will

give it to thee for the table-cloth.”

“I must first know what these wonderful powers are,” answered the

youth.

“That will I tell thee,” replied the charcoal-burner; “every time thou

tappest it with thy hand, a corporal comes with six men armed from head

to foot, and they do whatsoever thou commandest them.” “So far as I am

concerned,” said the youth, “if nothing else can be done, we will

exchange,” and he gave the charcoal-burner the cloth, took the knapsack

from the hook, put it on, and bade farewell. When he had walked a

while, he wished to make a trial of the magical powers of his knapsack

and tapped it. Immediately the seven warriors stepped up to him, and

the corporal said, “What does my lord and ruler wish for?”

“March with all speed to the charcoal-burner, and demand my

wishing-cloth back.” They faced to the left, and it was not long before

they brought what he required, and had taken it from the

charcoal-burner without asking many questions. The young man bade them

retire, went onwards, and hoped fortune would shine yet more brightly

on him. By sunset he came to another charcoal-burner, who was making

his supper ready by the fire. “If thou wilt eat some potatoes with

salt, but with no dripping, come and sit down with me,” said the sooty

fellow.

“No, he replied, this time thou shalt be my guest,” and he spread out

his cloth, which was instantly covered with the most beautiful dishes.

They ate and drank together, and enjoyed themselves heartily. After the

meal was over, the charcoal-burner said, “Up there on that shelf lies a

little old worn-out hat which has strange properties: when any one puts

it on, and turns it round on his head, the cannons go off as if twelve

were fired all together, and they shoot down everything so that no one

can withstand them. The hat is of no use to me, and I will willingly

give it for thy table-cloth.”

“That suits me very well,” he answered, took the hat, put it on, and

left his table-cloth behind him. Hardly, however, had he walked away

than he tapped on his knapsack, and his soldiers had to fetch the cloth

back again. “One thing comes on the top of another,” thought he, “and I

feel as if my luck had not yet come to an end.” Neither had his

thoughts deceived him. After he had walked on for the whole of one day,

he came to a third charcoal-burner, who like the previous ones, invited

him to potatoes without dripping. But he let him also dine with him

from his wishing-cloth, and the charcoal-burner liked it so well, that

at last he offered him a horn for it, which had very different

properties from those of the hat. When any one blew it all the walls

and fortifications fell down, and all towns and villages became ruins.

He certainly gave the charcoal-burner the cloth for it, but he

afterwards sent his soldiers to demand it back again, so that at length

he had the knapsack, hat and horn, all three. “Now,” said he, “I am a

made man, and it is time for me to go home and see how my brothers are

getting on.”

When he reached home, his brothers had built themselves a handsome

house with their silver and gold, and were living in clover. He went to

see them, but as he came in a ragged coat, with his shabby hat on his

head, and his old knapsack on his back, they would not acknowledge him

as their brother. They mocked and said, “Thou givest out that thou art

our brother who despised silver and gold, and craved for something

still better for himself. He will come in his carriage in full

splendour like a mighty king, not like a beggar,” and they drove him

out of doors. Then he fell into a rage, and tapped his knapsack until a

hundred and fifty men stood before him armed from head to foot. He

commanded them to surround his brothers’ house, and two of them were to

take hazel-sticks with them, and beat the two insolent men until they

knew who he was. A violent disturbance arose, people ran together, and

wanted to lend the two some help in their need, but against the

soldiers they could do nothing. News of this at length came to the

King, who was very angry, and ordered a captain to march out with his

troop, and drive this disturber of the peace out of the town; but the

man with the knapsack soon got a greater body of men together, who

repulsed the captain and his men, so that they were forced to retire

with bloody noses. The King said, “This vagabond is not brought to

order yet,” and next day sent a still larger troop against him, but

they could do even less. The youth set still more men against them, and

in order to be done the sooner, he turned his hat twice round on his

head, and heavy guns began to play, and the king’s men were beaten and

put to flight. “And now,” said he, “I will not make peace until the

King gives me his daughter to wife, and I govern the whole kingdom in

his name.” He caused this to be announced to the King, and the latter

said to his daughter, “Necessity is a hard nut to crack, what remains

to me but to do what he desires? If I want peace and to keep the crown

on my head, I must give thee away.”

So the wedding was celebrated, but the King’s daughter was vexed that

her husband should be a common man, who wore a shabby hat, and put on

an old knapsack. She wished much to get rid of him, and night and day

studied how she could accomplished this. Then she thought to herself,

“Is it possible that his wonderful powers lie in the knapsack?” and she

dissembled and caressed him, and when his heart was softened, she said,

“If thou wouldst but lay aside that ugly knapsack, it makes disfigures

thee so, that I can’t help being ashamed of thee.” “Dear child,” said

he, “this knapsack is my greatest treasure; as long as I have it, there

is no power on earth that I am afraid of.” And he revealed to her the

wonderful virtue with which it was endowed. Then she threw herself in

his arms as if she were going to kiss him, but dexterously took the

knapsack off his shoulders, and ran away with it. As soon as she was

alone she tapped it, and commanded the warriors to seize their former

master, and take him out of the royal palace. They obeyed, and the

false wife sent still more men after him, who were to drive him quite

out of the country. Then he would have been ruined if he had not had

the little hat. But his hands were scarcely at liberty before he turned

it twice. Immediately the cannon began to thunder, and struck down

everything, and the King’s daughter herself was forced to come and beg

for mercy. As she entreated in such moving terms, and promised

amendment, he allowed himself to be persuaded and granted her peace.

She behaved in a friendly manner to him, and acted as if she loved him

very much, and after some time managed so to befool him, that he

confided to her that even if someone got the knapsack into his power,

he could do nothing against him so long as the old hat was still his.

When she knew the secret, she waited until he was asleep, and then she

took the hat away from him, and had it thrown out into the street. But

the horn still remained to him, and in great anger he blew it with all

his strength. Instantly all walls, fortifications, towns, and villages,

toppled down, and crushed the King and his daughter to death. And had

he not put down the horn and had blown just a little longer, everything

would have been in ruins, and not one stone would have been left

standing on another. Then no one opposed him any longer, and he made

himself King of the whole country.