“Just wait here till I come back,” said the minstrel and continued on his way.
The wolf, meanwhile, squirmed and tugged and gnawed so long at the stone until it freed its paws and slipped them out of the split in the tree trunk. Huffing and puffing with fury, it ran after the minstrel and wanted to tear him to shreds. When the fox saw it running by, it started to whine and cried out at the top of its lungs, “Brother Wolf, help me please, the minstrel has deceived me.” The wolf tugged down the little tree until the cord snapped in two and freed the fox, who went with the wolf to take revenge on the minstrel. They found the fastened hare, which they likewise released, whereupon they all went in search of their sworn enemy.
Yet again did the minstrel stroke his fiddle along the way, and this time he got lucky. The sweet strains struck the ear of a poor woodcutter, who, no sooner having heard it, whether he wanted to or not, felt compelled to stop working, and with the hatchet under his arm, came walking over, drawn by the music. “Finally I’ve found the right companion,” said the minstrel, “for I wanted to bide my time with a human being, not a wild beast.” And he started playing so splendidly and sweetly that the poor woodcutter just stood there, stunned, his heart bursting with joy. And as he stood like that, the wolf, the fox, and the hare came running up, and he sensed their evil intent. So he raised the flashing hatchet over his head and stood before the minstrel as if to say: Over my dead body. Whereupon the wild beasts took fright and hightailed it back into the woods. The minstrel played the man another tune to thank him and then continued on his way.
THE MUSICIANS OF BREMEN
A man had a donkey that had faithfully lugged heavy sacks of grain to the mill for many years, but the poor beast’s strength had finally given out, so that he was no longer up to the task. The man thought of taking him to the horse skinner, but the donkey got wind of this, ran off, and set out for Bremen, where he thought he might make a go of it as a street musician. After walking for a while he came upon a hunting hound lying by the wayside, panting like someone who had run himself ragged.
“Why are you panting like that, Pooch?” asked the donkey.
“Oh,” said the hound, “because I’m old and getting weaker day by day, and no longer fit for the hunt. My master wanted to do me in, so I took to my heels, but how am I to feed myself?”
“You know what,” said the donkey, “I’m on my way to Bremen to become a street musician. Why don’t you come along and join my band. I’ll play the lute and you can beat a drum.”
The hound was happy and they continued on their way. After a while they found a cat seated by the wayside that made a face as miserable as sin.
“What’s eating you, old Puss?” asked the donkey.
“You want me to smile when I’m done for?” replied the cat. “Because I’m of an age when my teeth are dull and I’d rather sit curled up by the oven than chase after mice, my mistress wanted to drown me. I escaped in the nick of time, but what am I going to do now?”
“Come along with us to Bremen. You’re good at howling at night, why not become a street musician?”
The cat agreed and came along. Whereupon the three fugitives came upon a farmyard in front of which sat a rooster crowing its lungs out.
“Why the bone-tingling lament?” asked the donkey. “What’s the matter?”
“I have crowed faithfully and prophesied good weather,” said the rooster, “for the day when our blessed Mother in heaven washed the shirt of the Christ Child and hung it out to dry. But because tomorrow is Sunday and guests are coming, the merciless lady of the house told the cook to make a soup of me, and tonight I’m to be beheaded. So I’m crowing my lungs out as long as I still can.”
“Pipe down, you Cock-a-Doodle,” said the donkey. “Better come with us. We’re headed for Bremen, where you’ll surely find a better fate than death. You’ve got a good voice, why not make music with us?”
The rooster agreed, and all four went on their way.
But Bremen was too far to reach in a day, and as darkness fell they came to a forest where they planned to spend the night. The donkey and the hound lay themselves down under a great tree, the cat and the rooster clambered up the branches, but the rooster flew all the way up to the topmost branch, where he felt the safest. Before falling asleep, he took another look around in the direction of all four winds. In the distance, the rooster thought he saw sparks flickering and called down to his comrades that there must be a house nearby, since he could see its glow.