The Surprising Adventures of Baron Munchausen / Приключения барона Мюнхгаузена. Уровень 1

Baron Munchausen is a famous German nobleman. He likes to talk about his wonderful adventures. His exploits focus on his great achievements as a great hunter, soldier, and traveller. Of course, he is the most truthful and resourceful person in the world!

The Cucumber-Gatherers

We sailed from Amsterdam. A storm tore up by the roots many trees of enormous bulk and height, in an island where we lay at anchor to take in wood and water. Some of these trees weighed many tons, yet the wind carried them so amazingly high, that they appeared like the feathers of small birds in the air. They were at least five miles above the earth. However, as soon as the storm subsided they all fell perpendicularly into their places, and took root again, except the largest tree. When that tree was in the air, it had a man and his wife upon its branches. They were gathering cucumbers. In this part of the globe that useful vegetable grows upon trees.

As the tree descended, the weight of this couple over-balanced the trunk, and brought it down in a horizontal position. It fell upon the chief man of the island, and killed him on the spot.

He was returning home through his own garden when this fortunate accident happened. But this tyrant was very avaricious, the natives of the island were half-starved. The goods were spoiling in his stores, while the poor wretches were pining in poverty. Though the destruction of this tyrant was accidental, the people chose the cucumber-gatherers for their governors

The Crocodile and the Lion

In about six weeks we arrived at Ceylon. We were received with friendship and true politeness.

In a fortnight I accompanied one of the governor’s brothers upon a shooting party. He was a strong, athletic man.

Near the banks of a lake, I heard a rustling noise behind. I turned about and I was almost petrified at the sight of a lion. It was evidently approaching and it wanted to satisfy his appetite with my poor body. What to do in this horrible dilemma? I had not even a moment for reflection. My gun was only charged with swan-shot. Though I did not intend to kill such an animal with that weak kind of ammunition, yet I hoped to frighten it, and perhaps to wound it also. But the shot enraged him, for he quickened his pace. I attempted to escape.

I turned about and I found a large crocodile. His mouth was extended almost ready to devour me. I fell involuntarily to the ground with fear, and the lion sprang over me. I lay some time, I was expecting to feel his teeth or talons in some part of me. But I heard a violent but unusual noise. I raised my head and looked. To my unspeakable joy, I perceived the lion jumped forward into the crocodile’s mouth! And they were struggling to extricate themselves!

I took my knife. With this instrument I severed the lion’s head, and the body fell at my feet! Then I rammed the head farther into the throat of the crocodile, and destroyed it. The crocodile could neither gorge nor eject it.

Soon my companion arrived in search of me. After mutual congratulations, we measured the crocodile, which was forty feet in length.

We related this extraordinary adventure to the governor. He sent a waggon and servants, who brought home the two carcases. The lion’s skin was properly preserved, after which it was made into tobacco-pouches[1]. I presented it, upon our return to Holland, to the burgomaster, who, in return, gave me a thousand ducats.

The skin of the crocodile makes a capital article in the public museum at Amsterdam. The exhibitor relates the whole story to each spectator.

The Baron and His Horse

I went to Russia, in the midst of winter. I went on horseback, as the most convenient manner of traveling. I was lightly clothed, and I felt the inconvenience the more I advanced[2] north-east.

What severe weather and climate! Suddenly I saw an old beggar; he was lying on the road, helpless, shivering. He had nothing to cover his nakedness. I pitied him. Though I felt the severity of the air myself, I threw my mantle over him, and immediately I heard a voice from the heavens:

“You will be rewarded, my son, for this!”

I went on. I saw no village. The country was covered with snow, and I was unacquainted with the road.

I alighted, and fastened my horse to something like a pointed stump of a tree, which appeared above the snow. I placed my pistols under my arm, and slept on the snow. I slept so soundly that I did not open my eyes till full daylight. And I was astonished: I found myself[3] in the midst of a village. I was lying in a churchyard. I did not see my horse, but I heard it somewhere above me. I looked upwards and I beheld the horse hanging by its bridle to the cross of the church.

Oh! The village was covered with snow overnight; then there was a sudden change of weather. I sank down to the churchyard whilst asleep, gently. But what was above the snow? It was not a pointed stump of a tree, to which I tied my horse: it was the cross of the church! And the horse could not go down. What to do?

Without long consideration I took one of my pistols, shot the bridle in two[4], brought the horse, and proceeded on my journey.

The Baron and the Wolf

The horse carried me well. I was advancing into the interior parts of Russia. I took a single horse sledge, and drove briskly towards St. Petersburg. I remember that in the midst of a dreary forest I saw a terrible wolf. The wolf was making after me[5], with all the speed of ravenous winter hunger. It soon overtook me. There was no possibility of escape. Mechanically I laid myself down flat in the sledge, and my horse ran very quickly. And what happened immediately after? The wolf took a leap over me, and fell furiously on the horse. Then it began to tear and devour the hind-part of the poor animal. I lifted my head up, and with horror I saw that the wolf ate his way into the horse’s body. I took my advantage, and used my whip. This unexpected attack frightened the wolf so much, that he leaped forward with all his might. The horse’s body dropped on the ground, but in his place the wolf was in the harness. I was whipping it continually: we both arrived safe at St. Petersburg, to the astonishment of the spectators.

Fifty Ducks Destroyed By One Shot

It was some time before I could join the army, and for several months I was perfectly free. The recollection of my adventures gives me fresh spirits, and creates a warm wish for a repetition of them.

One morning I saw, through the windows of my bedroom, that a large pond not far off was covered with wild ducks. In an instant I took my gun from the corner, ran downstairs and out of the house in such a hurry, that I imprudently struck my face against the door. Fire flew out of my eyes[6]; but I ran to the pond. Suddenly, I observed to my sorrow, that there was no flint in my gun. There was no time to lose.

I remembered the effect the blow had on my eyes. Soon my fist was against one of my eyes. A strong blow drew sparks again; I used the sparks for my gun, the shot went off. I killed fifty ducks, twenty widgeons, and three couple of teals!

The Baron and the Black Fox

Presence of mind[7] is very important. In a noble forest in Russia I met a fine black fox. The fox stood close to a tree. In a twinkling I took out my ball[8], and placed a good spike-nail in its room[9], fired. I hit the fox so cleverly that I nailed its tail to the tree. I now went up to the fox, took out my whip, gave it a cross-cut over the face, and fairly flogged it out of his fine skin. So I took its skin, it was very beautiful!

Amazing Hunting

However, I had more amusing experiences. One day I was hunting all day long, and in the evening I came across a large lake in the middle of the forest. It was full of wild ducks.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have any bullets left.

I was expecting many friends that evening, and I wanted to treat them well. I am a hospitable and generous person, you know. My dinners and suppers were famous all over Petersburg. How could I get home without ducks?

I remembered that there was a piece of fat[10] left in my bag. This fat will be a good bait. I took it out of my bag, tied it to a long string, and threw it into the water.

The ducks saw the food, and immediately swam up to the fat. One of them swallowed it. But the fat was slippery, and it passed quickly through the duck, and jumped out behind it! So the duck was on my string.

Then a second duck swam up to the fat, and the same thing happened.

All the ducks swallowed the fat and they became like a string of beads. In ten minutes, all the ducks are on it. All I had to do was just to pull out the ducks and take them to the kitchen.

But it was not so easy to carry so many ducks. I took a few steps and was very tired. Suddenly the ducks flew up and lifted me up to the clouds. You can imagine my surprise! I am a brave and resourceful person, you know. I made a rudder out of my coat, and flew rapidly home. But how to get down?

It’s so easy! My resourcefulness helped me again. I killed some ducks, and we began to descend slowly – just into the chimney of my kitchen! My cook was very surprised.

Wild Pigs are Dangerous

Chance and good luck often correct our mistakes. Soon after that, in the depth of a forest, I saw a little wild pig and a sow. They were running close behind each other. I shot. The little wild pig ran away, and the sow stood motionless, as fixed to the ground. It was an old sow, blind with age, which took hold of the little pig’s tail. My ball passed between these two pigs. It cut the tail, which the old sow continued to hold in its mouth. The sow’s former guide did not draw it on any longer, it had stopped of course. I therefore took the remaining end of the little pig’s tail, and led the old beast home without any trouble. The old animal was absolutely helpless.

But these wild sows are very terrible. The boars are fierce and dangerous. One of them I had once the misfortune to meet in a forest. I was unprepared for attack or defense. I retired behind an oak-tree just when the furious animal jumped at me, with such force, that his tusks pierced through the tree. So it could neither repeat the blow nor retire. Ho, ho! thought I, I hammered and bent its tusks in such a manner, that it could not retreat by any means. Then I went to the village for ropes and a cart. And I carried the boar home safe and alive!

Saint Hubert’s Stag

You heard, I think, of the hunter and the saint and protector, St. Hubert[11], and of the noble stag, which appeared to him in the forest, with the holy cross between its antlers. I saw this stag a thousand times, either painted or embroidered. I hardly know whether such ever lived. But let me rather tell what I saw myself.

One day I was walking in the wood and eating cherries. Suddenly I found myself unexpectedly in presence of a stately stag. The stag was looking at me as if it knew of my empty pouches. I charged immediately with powder, and upon it a good handful of cherry-stones[12]. Then I shot at the stag, and hit him just on the middle of the forehead, between his antlers. It stunned the stag – it staggered and ran away. A year or two after, I saw in the same forest, and I beheld a stag with a fine full grown cherry-tree above ten feet high between its antlers. I immediately recollected my former adventure, looked at the stag, and brought it to the ground by one shot. It at once gave me the haunch and cherry-sauce; for the tree was covered with the fruit.

Who knows but some hunter, or abbot or bishop, could shoot, and fix the cross between the antlers of St. Hubert’s stag, in a manner similar to this?

An Amazing Eight-Legged Hare

One day I was chasing an unusual hare. The hare was wonderfully fleet-footed[13]. It was running on and on, and never stopped to rest. I chased it for two days. I was riding my horse, and could not catch it.

My faithful dog kept pace with the hare, but I could not get closer. On the third day, I finally shot the damnable hare.

As soon as he fell on the grass, I jumped off my horse and rushed to examine him. You can imagine my surprise, gentlemen. That hare, in addition to its usual legs, had spare ones. It had four legs on its stomach and four on its back!

Oh yes, it had good, strong legs on its back. When the lower legs got tired, the hare rolled over on its back, and continued to run using the spare legs.

No wonder I’d been chasing the hare for three days[14] like a madman!

The Baron and the Bear

What do you say of this, for example? It was in a Polish forest. When I was going home a terrible bear appeared, with open mouth, ready to fall upon me. I searched for powder and ball, but in vain; I found nothing but two spare flints. One I flung with all my might into the bear’s open jaws, down his throat. It gave the bear pain and made it turn about. I threw the second flint at his back-door, which, indeed, I did with wonderful success. It flew in, met the first flint in the stomach, struck fire, and blew up the bear with a terrible explosion!

The Wolf, Which the Baron Turns Inside Out[15]

That time the fiercest and most dangerous animals generally came upon me. For example, a frightful wolf rushed upon me so suddenly, and so close, that I could do nothing but thrust my fist into his open mouth. I pushed on and on, till my arm was fairly in up to the shoulder.

How could I disengage myself? I was not much pleased with my awkward situation – with a wolf face to face. I saw its flaming eyes. So I laid hold of his tail, turned him inside out like a glove, and flung him to the ground, where I left him.

The Mad Fur Coat

The same expedient did not work against a mad dog, which soon after came running against me in a narrow street at St. Petersburg. I threw off my fur coat[16], and was safe at home in an instant. I sent my servant for the cloak, and he put it in the wardrobe with my other clothes. The day after I was amazed and frightened.

“For God’s sake[17], sir, your fur coat is mad!” my servant cried.

I hastened up to him. All my clothes were tossed about and torn to pieces. The servant was perfectly right in his apprehensions about the fur coat’s madness. I took my gun and shot. The mad fur coat became still. I put it in a separate wardrobe.

And my coat was very quiet and did not bite anybody.

My Favourite Hound

Presence of mind and vigorous exertions, gentlemen, that’s all! I shall not discuss the details of my stables, horses, or armoury. But I must mention my favourite dog. It was a greyhound, and I never had or saw a better dog. It was not remarkable for her size, but rather for her uncommon swiftness. It ran so fast, so much, and so long in my service, that it actually ran off her legs. My lovely dog served me very well.

One day I was coursing a hare, which was uncommonly big. And my dog coursed the hare as fast as ever. I could follow it on horseback only at a great distance. At once I heard a cry – but so weak and faint that I hardly knew what to think. I came up to them, and I was greatly surprised. The hare littered in running; the same happened to my dog in coursing. There were just as many leverets as pups. By instinct the former ran, the latter coursed: and thus I found myself in possession at once of six hares, and as many dogs, at the end of a course.

The Baron’s Horse

I remember this, my wonderful dog, with the same pleasure and tenderness as a superb Lithuanian horse, which no money could buy. That horse became mine by an accident. I was at some noble lord’s place, and remained with the ladies at tea in the drawing-room, while the gentlemen were down in the yard, to see a young horse. The horse arrived from the stud. We suddenly heard a noise of distress; I hastened downstairs, and found the horse so unruly, that nobody could approach or mount him.

The most resolute horsemen stood dismayed and aghast. Despondency was expressed in every countenance, when, in one leap[18], I was on his back. I took him by surprise, and worked him quite into gentleness and obedience. Oh, I was a real master of horsemanship! But I wanted to show this to the ladies, you see. I forced the horse to leap in at one of the open windows of the tea-room, walked round several times, and at last made him mount the tea-table. It was exceedingly pleasing to the ladies, for the horse walked amazingly well, and did not break either cup or saucer.

It placed me so high in their opinion, and so well in the opinion of the noble lord, that, with his usual politeness, he begged me to take this young horse. It was the noble lord’s present.

It was a very agreeable present – a horse so gentle, so spirited, and so fierce! It was my best friend during the Turkish war.

One day the Turks were coming against me in a cloud of dust. I was rather uncertain about their actual numbers and real intentions. The fight was terrible, but we broke them entirely – made a terrible havoc amongst them, and drove back to a walled town in their rear.

The swiftness of my horse enabled me to be the first in the pursuit. I decided to stop in the market-place, and I walked my horse to a well in this market-place, and let him drink. It drank uncommonly, and was not satisfied. Why? I looked round, and what did I see, gentlemen? The hind part of the poor creature – his croup and legs were missing. The horse was cut in two[19], and the water ran out as it came in. The water did not do my horse any good! How it happened was quite a mystery to me. I returned with him to the town-gate. There I saw, that when I rushed in with the flying enemy, they dropped the portcullis (a heavy door, with sharp spikes at the bottom, it prevents the entrance of an enemy into a fortified town).And it cut off the horse’s hind part, so it still lay on the outside of the gate. I took it immediately and brought to the doctor. He sewed them up with sprigs and young shoots of laurels that were at hand. The wound healed, and the sprigs took root in the horse’s body.

Baron Munchausen Rides a Cannon Ball[20]

During the war, I was able to ride not only horses, but also cannon balls. One day we were besieging a Turkish city, and our commander wanted to know if there were some guns in that city. But in all our army there was not a single brave man who could sneak into the enemy’s camp.

I was the bravest one, of course. I stood next to a big cannon that was firing. When the cannon ball flew out, I jumped on top of it and dashed forward. Everyone exclaimed:

“Bravo, Bravo, Baron Munchausen!

At first I flew with pleasure, but when the enemy’s city appeared in the distance, I became uneasy. How to get out of there? The enemies will catch me as a spy. No, dear Munchausen, you must go back before it’s too late!

At this moment the Turks fired a counter-ball[21]. It was flying past me. So I got on it and flew back. Of course, during my flight, I carefully counted all the Turkish guns and brought our commander the most accurate information about the enemy’s artillery.

Baron Munchausen Pulls Himself out of a Mire by His Own Hair

Oh yes, during this war I had a lot of adventures. Once I was escaping from the Turks. I tried to jump over a mire on horseback. But the horse was not successful in it, and we fell down into the mire.

We began to sink. There was no escape. The mire sucked us deeper and deeper with terrible speed. My horse’s body disappeared in the stinking mud, my head was sinking as well. And only my pigtail was seen.

What to do? You know, gentlemen, about the amazing strength of my arms. I’m a strong man, indeed. I grabbed myself by this pigtail, and pulled up with all my strength. I pulled both myself and my horse out of the mire. I held my horse tightly with both feet, as if with tongs.

Yes, I lifted both myself and my horse, and if you think it is easy, try it yourself!

The Baron On The Moon

I was not always successful. I had the misfortune to be a prisoner of war; and, what is worse, I was sold for a slave. My daily task was not very hard and laborious, but rather irksome. It was to drive the Sultan’s bees every morning to their pasture-grounds, to attend them all the day long, and at night to drive them back to their hives.

One evening I missed a bee. Two bears caught it to tear it to pieces for the honey it carried. I had nothing in my hands but the silver hatchet, which the Sultan’s gardeners and farmers possessed. I threw it at the bears, with an intention to frighten them away. But the hatchet flew upwards, and continued rising till it reached the moon. How could I recover it? How could I fetch it down again?

I recollected that Turkey-beans[22] grow very quick, and run up to an astonishing height. I planted one immediately; it grew, and actually fastened itself to the moon. I climbed up by it into the moon, where I safely arrived, and found my silver hatchet. I found it in a heap of chaff and chopped straw. I was about to return: but, alas! The heat of the sun dried up my bean; it was totally useless for my descent.

I began to twist a rope of that chopped straw. This I fastened to the moon, and slid down to the end of it. But the rope was short. The earth was far away. So I held myself fast with the left hand, and with the hatchet in my right, I cut the long, now useless end of the upper part. I tied it to the lower end, and it brought me down to the Sultan’s garden. I was four or five miles from the earth at least when it broke. I fell to the ground with such amazing violence, that I found myself in a hole nine fathoms deep at least. I did not know how to get out again. However, I dug steps with my finger-nails, and easily accomplished it.

A Balloon Over Constantinople

When I was in the service of the Turks, one morning, as I was admiring the beauty and serenity of the sky, I observed a globular substance in the air. It was about the size of a twelve-inch globe. I immediately took up my largest and longest barrel fowling-piece. I never travel without it. I charged it with a ball, and fired at the globe. Nothing happened. The object was at a great distance. I then put in a double quantity of powder, and five or six balls. This second attempt succeeded. All the balls tore one side open, and brought it down. Judge my surprise[23] when a most elegant gilt car, with a man in it, and part of a roasted sheep fell within two yards of me. What a strange aerial traveller!

I took him on board (he was French). He was incapable of speaking; but after some time, however, he told me: “It began seven or eight days before, I cannot tell you exactly. I ascended from Cornwall, in the island of Great Britain, in the car, suspended from a very large balloon, and took a sheep with me – just for fun. Unfortunately, the wind changed within ten minutes after my ascent. I intended to land in Exeter, but I was driven towards the sea.

The hunger was terrible. On the third day, I killed the sheep for food. At that time I was above the moon, and the sun scorched my eyebrows. I placed the sheep in that part of the car where the sun had sufficient power. It was well roasted in about two hours. This was my food.”

Here he paused. When I told him the city before us was Constantinople, he seemed exceedingly affected.

“The cause,” added he, “of my long flight was the failure of a string which was fixed to a valve in the balloon. I did not let out the inflammable air. But you, my dear Baron, fired at the balloon, and I was saved.”