A soldier named Lare served in Denmark: he carried out the royal orders for exactly eight years, and the time had come for him to say goodbye to his soldier life. Lara was glad that the service had come to an end: after all, to whom service is a mother, and to whom service is a stepmother. I don’t want to return home with just a thin wallet. They counted and estimated, but the soldier could not count more than three skills. Such a small amount for eight years of service! Thank you, at least you gave him those skills right away. Otherwise, it used to happen that while you received the soldier’s hard-earned money, you would be knocked off your feet.
“Okay, at least it turned out that way!” - Lare thought and set off.
He was a cheerful little soldier! He walks, waves his stick, and sings songs. And a poor old woman meets him; he cries bitterly and complains about his need.
- Would you like to show me some skill, servant? - asks the old woman.
- Why not submit it! - says the soldier. “I only have three skills, but whether it’s two or three, it’s all the same.” No money - and it's not money. Maybe my skill will be useful to you.
A little later he met another old woman, so hunched over that her head was bowed down and her face could not be seen; he cries bitterly, curses his lot and prays tearfully:
- Would you like to show me some skill, servant?
“Okay,” says the soldier. - I have two skills, and you have none; If I give you one, we will be equal in wealth. Take it to your health!
He gave her half of his money and moved on; It’s easy on a soldier’s soul and easy on his pocket. He walks and sings songs.
A little later he met a third old woman; he cries so bitterly and asks for alms:
- Would you like to show me some skill, servant?
The soldier grinned and gave her the last skill.
- Here, take it! I only have one skill; whether he is or not - the difference is small. The wind is blowing in my wallet, and now I can’t help anyone.
The soldier walked on, cheerful and cheerful. And now he has some good things left - only the old clothes he’s wearing and the knapsack on his back. The backpack contains a torn shirt and a pair of holey socks. True, he also had a pack of chewing tobacco.
A soldier is walking, enjoying the sun and warmth, chewing tobacco, waving a stick, singing songs so loudly that the echoes can be heard far across the hills.
Lara enters the forest and sees: an old woman sitting on a stone, resting, apparently. And the stone is huge, enormous.
“Sit down, servant, let’s talk,” says the old woman. “You and I had the chance to meet three times before, but each time you were in such a hurry that we didn’t even exchange a word with you.”
- Oh, so it was you who lured all my skills! Well, to your health! No wonder you got them. I had to run! You're quick, what's true is true! And I wouldn’t mind talking to you! What do you want?
Lara sat down on a stone next to the old woman, she looked at him and said:
- Make three wishes!
The soldier scratched his head.
- What would you wish for? Well, it couldn't be easier! I want to live with people in peace and friendship, without this a person cannot be happy. And I also want my backpack to never wear out - I still can’t get money for a new one.
- Make your last wish! - said the old lady.
And Lara wished:
“Let whatever I wish instantly fall into my backpack, and if I want, let the backpack be empty again.”
- Your wishes will come true. Have a nice trip! - the old woman said and suddenly disappeared, as if she had fallen through the ground.
“Where did she go?” thought the soldier. “Well, it’s none of my business!”
He got up and set off again, but, unfortunately, he tripped over the stone on which he was sitting with the old woman. Lara got angry, remembered the devil and wished: “Come on, stone, get into my backpack!”
And the stone hops and hops and it’s already in his knapsack.
But there was that stone so huge and heavy that it pulled Lars down. The soldier fell over his head and rolled on the ground. He rolls and rolls, getting bruises and bumps! Luckily, he came across a thick tree and stopped.
The soldier caught his breath - phew! - and narrowed his eye. Finally he realized: “The old lady apparently wasn’t chatting in vain - it turns out it’s a serious matter. That’s so cool! Only I made a wish, and the stone is already in the knapsack.”
He wished Lara to get rid of the stone, and the stone - hop-hop - jumped out of the backpack.
The soldier walked on, cheerful and cheerful. Only suddenly he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and the serviceman became hungry: he had been walking for a very long time that day.
Lara sees: there is a landowner’s estate standing by the road. And he decided to go there and ask for a loaf of bread. So I did. He goes into the kitchen, and the cook is just slicing the bread and spreading butter on the slices.
- Is there a loaf of bread for me? - asks the soldier.
“You can find something,” says the cook, “but in this house every piece counts.” It will be bad for me if even the smallest amount is missing.
- The house is a master’s house, but the household, apparently, is orphan’s! - said the soldier.
- Your truth! - says the cook. -Or maybe you should go see the landowner? Talk to him, look - he orders you to feed him! There are miracles in the world. He sits in his upper room. As soon as you walk out the door, keep going straight.
- Thanks for the advice! - The soldier thanked the cook and went to the landowner.
And he’s just counting his money. The soldier sees: there is a clay pot on the table, one of those made in Jutland, and it is full of gold ducats, and on the floor there is an iron chest, and there are countless silver dalers in it!
- Well, what debt do you owe? - asks the landowner. He didn’t even look at the soldier, he thought one of the sharecroppers1 had brought the payment.
“I have no debts or money.” But if you tell me to feed you, I’ll thank you,” says the soldier.
The landowner blushed - he was not used to being asked for anything for thanks. You can’t put a thank you in your pocket and you can’t make a fur coat out of it! He waved his hands at the soldier, stamped his feet and shouted:
- Get out of the yard!
Lara stood at attention and commanded himself, “Get to the right!” - He turned and marched out of the yard with a soldier’s step.
He walked and walked, and then, grinning, he said:
- Come on, golden ducats, jump into my backpack!
Whoops! - and the gold ducats from the Jutland pot are already in the soldier’s backpack.
“So!” thought the soldier. “It wouldn’t be a bad thing to live in silver; only braggarts pay with gold.”
- Come on, silver dalers, jump into my backpack! Yes, so much that it was possible to carry it. I don't need anything extra!
Whoops! - and silver dalers from the landowner’s chest are already lying in the soldier’s backpack.
The backpack became heavy, very heavy, but still lighter than the full marching gear that the soldier was accustomed to in the service.
I went further to Lara; walks and sings songs. In the evening he came to a small town, knocked on the door of the richest inn and asked for food and drink. Lara began to eat dinner on both cheeks. And important gentlemen are sitting at the table with him. So let them make fun of a simple soldier. It's funny to them how he leans on food.
The soldier ate and began emptying his pockets: first one was empty and torn, then the other. And there, besides an open pack of tobacco, you could roll a ball. At this point the gentlemen burst their stomachs with laughter.
“Even an old woman gets screwed,” says one of them. “A noble count also sometimes forgets his money at home, but greed is always with him.”
But the soldier doesn’t seem to hear. He puts the backpack on the table, opens it and looks inside. And the gentlemen laugh even more, clutching their stomachs. Only the owner is not laughing. He looks at Lars like a wolf, he is afraid that the soldier will not pay him. But the soldier doesn’t seem to see his fears. He takes out a handful of ducats, throws them on the table and says:
- No need for change!
The important gentlemen here widened their eyes and could not utter a word, as if their mouths had been gagged.
And the owner smiled and bowed to Lars. He ordered a bottle of wine to be brought as a reward for his generosity.
- Is there a room for you to spend the night in? asks Lare.
“The rooms are all occupied by guests,” says the owner, “only one is empty, but you can’t spend the night in it.” Anyone who spends the night there dies immediately at night. Since I became the owner, I don’t let anyone in there, my room is locked.
- The most suitable apartment for me! - said the soldier. - Clean it up thoroughly, set the table for dinner. Don’t forget to bring four bottles of wine and four candles and four decks of cards, and when you’re done, bring me the key to the room.
The owner hesitated, hesitated, and then said:
“My job is to be careful, but if you, sir, still want to spend the night there, well, it’s your will!”
It's time to go to bed. The soldier went to the terrible upper room. He poured out all the gold ducats and silver dalers from his satchel onto the table, lit four candles, opened four bottles of wine for dinner, which the owner had taken care of, and checked four decks of cards. He put Lara's backpack on the floor, sat down at the table and waited to see what would happen next.
A little later, the fire will crackle in the stove, and the stove will jump! The door bounced off, the flames began to flutter, and a black ball fell out onto the floor. That ball unwound, unwound, grew, grew, until it turned into a huge black devil with horns, a tail and fangs. And that devil was terrible! Instead of nails, he has animal claws.
- Welcome, dear friend! - the soldier says calmly and affectionately. “Sit down at the table and have a little refreshment.”
Before he could finish his speech, the fire would crackle again and the stove would jump! The door jumped back, the flames began to flutter, and another black ball rolled out onto the floor. That ball turned into the same huge black devil. And behind him the third devil is right there. Three black devils are tumbling on the floor. The soldier speaks kindly to all three, asks to come to the table and treats them to wine.
The devils ate and got drunk. Lare asks them:
- Shouldn't we play cards?
The devils squealed with joy and let’s play cards with the soldier. They play and play, and they slowly approach the soldier and launch their claws into him.
- Hey! - says the soldier. “It’s not bad to play cards with a friend, but there’s no point in throwing claws at him!” Come on, get into my backpack!
Eew-yew! - and three devils are already sitting in the soldier’s backpack. No matter how they floundered, no matter how they squealed, no matter how they clawed at the backpack, it was all in vain. After all, there was no wear and tear on the backpack.
- Sit until I let you out! - the soldier ordered. - Now I can talk to you. And time will pass faster! Why are you here in the upper room? What do you want here?
“There’s a beer cauldron with gold behind the stove.” “So we are guarding him,” the devils confessed.
- That's all! It's worth keeping honest people in fear because of money! - the soldier marveled.
The devils began to whine here: they begged the soldier to release them. But Lara doesn’t even listen. He took off his boots, went to bed and fell fast asleep.
Early in the morning the owner came and looked through the keyhole. That’s right: Lara is lying there and doesn’t seem to be breathing—apparently dead. The owner began to beat and pound on the door.
The soldier woke up, remembered the devil and shouted:
- What do you need? You've paid for an overnight stay, but they don't let you sleep!
The owner left - he was glad, although Lara did not treat him very kindly. The soldier survived! Here's to happiness! A timid man was found - no witchcraft is afraid of him!
Lara got some sleep and went to the owner. And he is already waiting for him. He can’t wait to hear what’s going on!
But you can't get anything out of a soldier. He only said that he slept well, and now it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have breakfast.
The owner spreads grass in front of Lars; whatever he puts on the table - eat as much as you want. The soldier ate and ate, ate everything that was on the table and asked:
- Are there two strong guys in the city?
- How can you not be found? - the owner answers.
“Well, call them here,” says Lara, “and make sure they are the sturdiest.” The work ahead of them is not easy.
- What kind of work is this? - the owner is curious.
“I need to take my backpack to the blacksmith, let him beat the dust out of it.” This is what strong guys are needed for; not everyone can lift such a backpack.
“He must have gone crazy,” thought the owner. “Or maybe yesterday’s hops haven’t worn off from him yet?”
But he did not contradict Lars: the soldier paid regularly, without stinting.
“Okay,” the owner promises, “I’ll bring you two hefty guys, you’ll be satisfied.”
He sent the boy to the city, and he brought two hefty fellows.
Lara looked at them and asked:
— Do you want to earn a silver daler for your brother?
Take this backpack to the blacksmith and let him knock the dust out of it.
The guys looked at each other and thought: “We’re lucky! It’s crazy, apparently, he has money. The work is trifling!”
They grabbed the backpack and wanted to lift it, but that was not the case. They barely lifted it off the floor!
With groans and sighs, the strong men pulled the backpack out of the house. They walk, then they shower themselves; By the time we reached the forge, we stopped seven times to catch our breath.
The owner of the inn goes with them. He explains to the blacksmith: he has a money man staying with him. And he wants the blacksmith to knock out the dust from his backpack. This man is either crazy or drunk from yesterday, but you shouldn’t contradict him: he pays generously.
A soldier came up and asked:
- How much will you charge for the job?
“Two or three Dalers,” answers the blacksmith.
“Look, you’ll be cheap,” says the soldier. “For such work you should charge at least five dalers.” But it must be beaten out conscientiously.
- How could it be otherwise? For such and such money! “There won’t be a speck of dust left in your backpack,” the blacksmith rejoiced. “But will there be anything left from the backpack under our hammers?”
- It’s not your concern! Thrash, spare no effort!
Two strong men barely lifted the backpack onto the anvil, and the blacksmith set three apprentices to beat the dust out of it.
That was fun! Such fun has never been seen in these parts.
The fellows rolled up their sleeves, spat on their palms - and how they would swing, how they would hit their backpacks with hammers! There was such a squeal and howl that the apprentices dropped their hammers out of fear. They stand there, staring at the backpack, unable to utter a word.
“Don’t be afraid,” says the soldier, “it’s the skin of the knapsack that has dried out, so it creaks, as if someone is howling.” The war will soon end.
The apprentices got to work again. They beat and thresh, and sweat pours from them in streams. At first they thought that there would be nothing left of the damned backpack. No matter how it is! They thrashed and threshed, but the backpack was still the same as it was.
The soldier says one thing:
- Spare no effort! You haven't even done half the job!
A lot of dust had accumulated in the backpack. After all, no matter what roads I dragged him along, he was with me in the war.
The three laughing apprentices sweated seven times, they were completely exhausted and dropped the hammers from their hands. The blacksmith called three new fellows. They set to work with fresh strength - and began nailing the backpack with hammers. And he is still intact. “Apparently, this troll has enchanted his backpack,” they thought. They look - the backpack is bound with iron. And the apprentices decided to beat iron with a hammer. And that’s not what they had to bend! But even iron does not give in, even if you die! They became exhausted and dropped their hammers. And the backpack lies on the anvil, still the same as it was.
“That’s enough, perhaps,” says the soldier.
He paid the blacksmith five dalers, gave another one in addition, and ordered the strongmen to drag the backpack to the river.
The fellows dragged the backpack to the river, opened it to Lara, and lo and behold, it was full of black dust, and it smelled of gray dust. These three devils were ground into dust by the blacksmith's hammers. The soldier poured the dust into the river, its waters swollen and turned black. The black river rushed hundreds of miles to the North Sea. Black waters poured into the blue sea, and dirty foam floated across the sea.
A week passed, the river and sea cleared up and became blue and transparent again.
What happened to the soldier?
Lara returned to the inn with the owner and told him that in the terrible upper room behind the stove there was a cauldron of gold hidden.
They moved the stove away from the wall, broke out the bricks, and there, in fact, there was a beer boiler. And it is filled to the very top with gold.
The soldier, of course, shared it with the owner and gave him a good half. And the owner, to celebrate, and also because Lara had freed the entire neighborhood from fear, gave him a garden.
The soldier built a house in that garden and lived happily ever after. How could it be otherwise: he was a kind and honest man, and not timid. And one more thing: he lived with people in peace and friendship - without this a person cannot be happy.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru