The adventures of baron munhausen Fr. Rudolph erich the adventures of baron munchausen

ROOF HORSE

I went to Russia on horseback. It was in the winter. It was snowing.

The horse got tired and began to stumble. I was very sleepy. I almost fell off the saddle from fatigue. But in vain I looked for a lodging for the night: on the way I did not come across a single village. What was to be done?

I had to spend the night in an open field.

There was no bush or tree around. Only a small post was sticking out from under the snow.

I somehow tied my chilled horse to this post, and I myself lay down in the snow and fell asleep.

I slept for a long time, and when I woke up, I saw that I was not lying in a field, but in a village, or rather, in a small town, houses surrounded me on all sides.

What? Where am I? How could these houses grow here overnight?

And where did my horse go?

For a long time I did not understand what had happened. Suddenly I hear a familiar whinnying. It’s my horse laughing.

But where is he?

A whinnying comes from somewhere above.

I raise my head - and what then?

My horse is hanging on the roof of the bell tower! He is tied to the cross itself!

In one minute I realized what was the matter.

Last night this whole town, with all the people and houses, was covered with deep snow, and only the top of the cross was sticking out.

I did not know that it was a cross, it seemed to me that it was a small post, and I tied my tired horse to it! And at night, while I was sleeping, a strong thaw began, the snow melted, and I imperceptibly sank to the ground.

But my poor horse remained there, upstairs, on the roof. Tied to the cross of the bell tower, he could not descend to the ground.

What to do?

Without hesitation, I grab the pistol, aim accurately and hit the bridle, because I've always been a great shooter.

Bridle - in half.

The horse quickly descends towards me.

I jump on it and, like the wind, I gallop forward.

WOLF CHAINED IN A SANI

But in winter it is inconvenient to ride a horse - it is much better to travel in a sleigh. I bought myself a very nice sled and quickly rushed through the soft snow.

Towards evening I drove into the forest. I was already beginning to doze when I suddenly heard the alarming whinnying of a horse. I looked around and, in the light of the moon, saw a terrible wolf, which, gaping toothy jaws, ran after my sleigh.

There was no hope of salvation.

I lay down on the bottom of the sleigh and closed my eyes in fear.

My horse ran like mad. The clicking of wolf teeth could be heard just above my ear.

But, fortunately, the wolf paid no attention to me.

He jumped over the sled - right over my head - and pounced on my poor horse.

In one minute, the hindquarters of my horse disappeared into his voracious mouth.

The front part continued to gallop forward in horror and pain.

The wolf ate deeper and deeper into my horse.

When I regained consciousness, I grabbed the whip and, without wasting a minute, began to whip the insatiable beast.

He howled and lunged forward.

The front part of the horse, not yet eaten by the wolf, fell out of the harness into the snow, and the wolf was in its place - in shafts and horse harness!

He could not get out of this harness: he was harnessed like a horse.

I continued to lash him with all my might.

He raced forward and forward, dragging my sleigh with him.

We were rushing so fast that within two or three hours we rode at a gallop into Petersburg.

The amazed Petersburg residents in droves ran out to look at the hero, who, instead of a horse, harnessed a fierce wolf to his sleigh. I lived well in Petersburg.

SPARK EYES

I often went hunting and now I recall with pleasure that funny time when so many wonderful stories happened to me almost every day.

One story was very funny.

The fact is that from the window of my bedroom I could see a vast pond, where there was a lot of all kinds of game.

The hunting adventures of Baron Munchausen

"Gentlemen, friends, comrades: - this is how I started
always his stories Baron Munchausen, rubbing his hands out of habit; then he took an old glass filled with his favorite drink - real, but not very old Rauenthal wine, gazed thoughtfully at the greenish-yellow liquid, with a sigh put the glass on the table, examining everyone with a searching gaze, and continued, smiling:

This means that I have to talk about the past again! .. Yes, at that time I was still cheerful and young, courageous and full of ebullient strength!
Once I had a trip to Russia, and I left home in the middle of winter, because from everyone who ever traveled to the north of Germany, Poland, Livonia and Courland, I heard that the roads in these countries are very bad and relatively they are in a tolerable condition only in winter due to snow and frost.
I rode out on horseback, as I find this mode of transportation the most convenient, if, of course, the horse and rider are good enough. In addition, riding on horseback saves you from boring collisions with German postmasters and from the risk of dealing with such a driver who, eternally thirsty, strives to stop at every roadside tavern.
I was dressed very lightly, and the further I moved to the northeast, the more the cold made itself felt.
Passing through Poland, on a road running through a deserted place, where cold winds roamed freely in the open, I met an unhappy old man Barely covered with bad clothes, a poor old man, half dead from the cold, was sitting near the road.
To the depths of my soul I felt sorry for the poor man, and, although I myself was cold, I threw my traveling cloak over him. After this meeting, I rode non-stop until night fell,
An endless snowy plain stretched out in front of me. There was a deep silence, and nowhere was the slightest sign of habitation to be seen. I didn't know where to go.
Terribly tired from the long ride, I decided to stop, dismounted from my horse and tied it to a pointed stake sticking out from under the snow. Just in case, I put the pistols next to me, lay down on the snow near the horse and immediately fell asleep soundly. When I woke up, it was daytime. My horse was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly, somewhere high in the air, there was a whinny. I looked up: my horse, tied to the reins, was hanging at the top of the bell tower.
It immediately became clear to me what had happened: I stopped in a village completely covered with snow. At night, there was a sudden thaw, and the snow melted. Imperceptibly during sleep, I sank lower and lower, until I was on the ground. And what I took yesterday for a stake and to which I tied the horse was the spire of the bell tower.
Without thinking twice, I fired a pistol. The bullet broke the belt, and after a minute the horse was standing next to me. I saddled it and drove on.
All went well up to the Russian border. Unfortunately, in Russia it is not customary to ride a horse in winter. Never breaking the customs of the country, and this time I did not change my rule. I got a small sleigh, harnessed a horse and cheerfully and cheerfully set off for Petersburg.
I rode through a dense forest. Suddenly I looked back and saw: a huge hardened wolf was running after me :. In several jumps, he caught up with me. I well understood that I could not escape from his sharp teeth, threw the warriors and lay down in the sleigh.
The wolf jumped over me and pounced on the horse.
Having safely escaped inevitable death, I quietly raised my head and saw with horror that the hungry beast had swallowed all back part animal. I hit him with all my might with the whip. The wolf rushed forward from fright and pain and found itself instead of a horse in its harness and shafts.

Readers will learn about the incredible stories that happened to an inveterate traveler and a notorious liar from the legendary book by R. E. Raspe "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen". The work teaches, first of all, resourcefulness and courage, the ability to be smart and not give up in difficult situations. Every evening the gray-haired old man told his friends a story from his daring past. These stories were so vivid and realistic that the listeners unwittingly believed the narrator.

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen

“Gentlemen, friends, comrades: - this is how Baron Munchausen always began his stories, rubbing his hands out of habit; then he took an old glass filled with his favorite drink - real, but not very old Rauenthal wine, gazed thoughtfully at the greenish-yellow liquid, with a sigh put the glass on the table, examining everyone with a searching gaze, and continued, smiling: - So, I have to talk about the past again! .. Yes, at that time I was still cheerful and young, courageous and full of ebullient strength!
Once I had a trip to Russia, and I left home in the middle of winter, because from everyone who ever traveled to the north of Germany, Poland, Livonia and Courland, I heard that the roads in these countries are very bad and relatively they are in a tolerable condition only in winter due to snow and frost.
I rode out on horseback, as I find this mode of transportation the most convenient, if, of course, the horse and rider are good enough. In addition, riding on horseback saves you from boring collisions with German postmasters and from the risk of dealing with such a driver who, eternally thirsty, strives to stop at every roadside tavern.
I was dressed very lightly, and the further I moved to the northeast, the more the cold made itself felt.
Passing through Poland, on a road running through a deserted place, where cold winds roamed freely in the open, I met an unhappy old man Barely covered with bad clothes, a poor old man, half dead from the cold, was sitting near the road.
To the depths of my soul I felt sorry for the poor man, and, although I myself was cold, I threw my traveling cloak over him. After this meeting, I rode non-stop until night fell,
An endless snowy plain stretched out in front of me. There was a deep silence, and nowhere was the slightest sign of habitation to be seen. I didn't know where to go.
Terribly tired from the long ride, I decided to stop, dismounted from my horse and tied it to a pointed stake sticking out from under the snow. Just in case, I put the pistols next to me, lay down on the snow near the horse and immediately fell asleep soundly. When I woke up, it was daytime. My horse was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly, somewhere high in the air, there was a whinny. I looked up: my horse, tied to the reins, was hanging at the top of the bell tower.
It immediately became clear to me what had happened: I stopped in a village completely covered with snow. At night, there was a sudden thaw, and the snow melted. Imperceptibly during sleep, I sank lower and lower, until I was on the ground. And what I took yesterday for a stake and to which I tied the horse was the spire of the bell tower.
Without thinking twice, I fired a pistol. The bullet broke the belt, and after a minute the horse was standing next to me. I saddled it and drove on.
All went well up to the Russian border. Unfortunately, in Russia it is not customary to ride a horse in winter. Never breaking the customs of the country, and this time I did not change my rule. I got a small sleigh, harnessed a horse and cheerfully and cheerfully set off for Petersburg.
I rode through a dense forest. Suddenly I looked back and saw: a huge hardened wolf was running after me :. In several jumps, he caught up with me. I well understood that I could not escape from his sharp teeth, threw the warriors and lay down in the sleigh.
The wolf jumped over me and pounced on the horse.
Having safely escaped inevitable death, I quietly raised my head and saw with horror that the hungry beast had swallowed the entire hind part of the animal. I hit him with all my might with the whip. The wolf rushed forward from fright and pain and found itself instead of a horse in its harness and shafts.

To the great surprise of those who met me, the wolf rushed me wildly and soon brought me safely to Petersburg. I will not bore you with a description of the state structure, arts, sciences and all sorts of sights of the magnificent capital of the Russian Empire. I'd better tell you about horses, dogs, my best friends, about foxes, wolves, bears and other animals that Russia is rich in, like no other country in the world. I would also like to tell you about Russian fun; about hunting and various exploits, which adorn an honest nobleman more than the most fashionable and rich attire and exquisite manners.
I did not immediately manage to enter the ranks of the Russian army. While waiting for the service, I had a lot of free time, which I spent, as befits; to a noble nobleman, cheerfully and carelessly. It cost a lot of money, but still I remember with pleasure this best time of my life.
The harsh climate and customs of the country gave rise to a great habit of wine in Russia. I have met quite a few people who have brought their art of drinking to virtuosity. But everyone in this respect was surpassed by one general with a gray beard and a coppery face, who very often dined with us. This brave man lost the upper part of his skull during the battle with the Turks, and even at the table he always sat in a cap, for which he sincerely apologized to the guests. This venerable warrior drank several bottles of vodka and more than one bottle of rum every day at dinner. However, he was never seen drunk. This may sound unlikely. I myself was perplexed for a long time and only by chance realized what was the matter.
The general occasionally lifted his cap to refresh his head. At first I didn’t pay attention to it. But then one day I noticed that along with the cap, a silver plate rose, which replaced his missing cranial bone. Wine vapors escaped into this opening as a club. It was then that I understood everything and immediately told my friends about my discovery. We decided to check my observations.
I went unnoticed to the general with a smoking pipe in my hands. After waiting for the moment when the general raised his cap, I quickly brought a piece of paper to his head, which I had lit from the pipe. And at the same moment everyone saw a wonderful phenomenon:
The general reacted good-naturedly to my trick and subsequently more than once allowed us to repeat these innocent experiments.
I will not talk about other pranks with which we amused myself, but I will go straight to the stories about my hunting adventures. - Page 1 - Passionately loving hunting, I gave myself to it with all my heart. For me, nothing in the world was better than hunting in the dense forests, which in Russia stretch for hundreds of miles.
It is with the greatest pleasure that I recall the time that I had so merrily and interestingly. I have experienced many dangers and risky adventures, but everything ended very well.
This is what happened to me. Once I had to hunt ducks on a large lake. But the ducks swam far apart. I looked and thought: I can't put more than one with a shot, but I, as a sin, have only one cartridge left. What to do here?
Just that evening, I was expecting a large group of friends, and I wanted to treat them to game. Fortunately, I remembered that a piece of bacon remained in the hunting bag from breakfast. I tied it to a rope and, hiding behind the reeds, threw it into the water. Almost at the same moment, to my greatest joy, I saw that one of the ducks swam quickly, eagerly grabbed the bait and swallowed it. Salo, quickly passing through the duck, jumped out behind her and again found itself in the water. He was swallowed by another, third duck and so on, until the very last.
When the ducks were strung on the rope like beads, I carefully pulled them to the shore, wrapped the rope with the ducks around me six times and went home.
The load was quite large. Moving far from the lake, I felt that I would not carry all the spoils home and began to regret my greed.
But then an unexpected circumstance happened, which plunged me into the greatest amazement. All the ducks were alive. As soon as they got used to their new position, everyone immediately flapped their wings and lifted me high into the sky. Anyone in my place would be at a loss, but I was immediately found. Having dismissed the flaps of my camisole in the wind, I began to control the flight of the ducks.
When I saw the house, I began to ponder how it would be safer to go down to the ground. Having folded heads of several ducks, I thus slowly lowered myself and fell directly into the chimney of my own kitchen. Fortunately, the hearth has not yet been heated. My sudden appearance greatly frightened the cook and all the household, but when they saw that I was safe and sound and brought a lot of spoils, their fear was replaced by joy.
Another case came with me with partridges. One day I went to the field to test a new gun. One by one I fired all the charges and turned home. Suddenly a flock of fat partridges flew up from under our feet.
I loaded my gun - what do you think? - an ordinary ramrod used to clean the gun. Noticing the place where the fallowers had landed, I scared them away. When the partridges rose, I fired and, to my great delight, saw that the ramrod had fallen with seven partridges strung on it.
But the miracle did not end there. When I picked up the partridges from the ground, they all turned out to be fried from a hot ramrod. The feathers fell off them, and they were so appetizingly browned that it was only necessary to serve them on the table.
I have already talked about what resourcefulness and ingenuity mean for a hunter.
One day, waking up early in the morning and looking out the window, I noticed a great many wild ducks on the pond in front of the house. Without thinking twice, I grabbed the gun and ran as fast as I could, but in a hurry hit my head against the door, so hard that sparks fell from my eyes. I rubbed my forehead and ran on. When I took aim, I found that I had no flint, which, apparently, fell out of the gun from a strong blow.
Every minute was precious. I didn't know what to do. Suddenly it came to me. a brilliant thought in my head. With all my might, I hit myself in the forehead. From this blow a sheaf of sparks fell from his eyes; the gunpowder ignited and a shot rang out. I killed ten pairs of excellent ducks in one shot.
Yes, it means a lot not to get lost in a decisive moment. Resourcefulness is a great thing! As you know, only she creates successful warriors, sailors and hunters.
Once I came across a magnificent black-and-brown fox while hunting. I could kill her with a gun, but then I would inevitably ruin her wonderful fur. Fortunately for me, the kuma-fox stood close to the tree. In one minute I loaded the gun with a nail, fired and hit so well that I nailed the fox's tail to a tree.
Then I calmly approached her and began to whip her. The fox jumped out of its skin in pain and ran away, and I got the whole skin, not spoiled by the bullet.
Very often the hunter is obliged to the occasion. Once, in the forest thicket, I came across a wild pig with a piglet, which was running in front, and the mother did not lag behind him a step. I shot unsuccessfully - the bullet flew between the piglet and the pig. The piglet ran away, but the pig remained in place, rooted to the spot.
Coming closer, I understood everything. The pig was blind; from her mouth was a piece of a pig's tail, which served as her guide. My bullet broke the tail of the escaped pig; the pig was left without a guide, stood helplessly in place, not knowing where to move. Taking the tip of the tail, which the pig held tightly in its teeth, I took her home. The old animal walked without any resistance ..
As frightening as wild pigs are, dealing with a wild boar is immeasurably more dangerous.
Suddenly, in the forest, I came across a wild boar. Unfortunately, I didn't have any weapons with me. I rushed for a tree, but at the same moment the furious animal jumped at me, but missed and stuck its fangs into the tree. The fangs went in so deep that the boar could not pull them out. "Well, now, darling, you won't leave me!" - I told him. He grabbed a stone lying on the ground and began to beat with all his might on the fangs, which went even deeper into the tree. Now the boar was in my captivity and could not escape. I went to a neighboring village for ropes and a cart and brought the wild boar home alive. - Page 2 - I somehow walked through the forest after a successful hunt. I have not a single charge left. Suddenly, a deer of amazing beauty came out of the forest to me, such as I have never seen. The deer looked at me so calmly and trustingly, as if he knew that I did not have a single charge. In an instant, I loaded my gun, and instead of shot I poured in a handful of cherry pits. My charge hit the deer in the forehead, between the antlers. The deer stunned by the shot fell, but at the same moment jumped up and ran away.
Two years later I had to hunt in the same area. I looked: a beautiful deer came out of the forest, and between its antlers there was a cherry tree, and on it were big red cherries, which I had never seen.
In critical moments, which the hunter experiences more than once in his life, he has to use everything that comes to hand, just not to miss the prey. More than once I had to be in this position.
Once in Poland I was hunting a bird. The hunt was successful, and I fired all the charges. It was getting dark. I began to get ready for home, when suddenly a huge bear came across to me, which was walking right at me, opening wide its terrible mouth. In vain I looked in my pockets for some forgotten charge; there, except for two spare flints, there was nothing. One flint, which was strength, I threw into the open mouth of the beast and hit him in the very throat. The bear roared, got down on all fours and turned his back to me. At the same moment, I planted another flint from the opposite end of the animal. Something extraordinary happened: sparks fell from the impact of the flints, a deafening crack was heard, and the bear was torn to pieces.
I can say that this time I got out of trouble safely, but I would not want to go through all this a second time. I would not wish anyone to meet a bear without a weapon.
Fate pursued me mercilessly. As soon as there was no weapon with me, I certainly met with some dangerous beast, as if he guessed by instinct that I was unarmed.
So, unexpectedly in the forest a huge hungry wolf rushed at me. However, I was not at a loss and thrust my clenched fist into his mouth so far that he could not close it. For safety's sake, I put my hand almost to the very shoulder.
Involuntarily, I asked myself what to do next? I experienced an unpleasant situation. Judge for yourself what it is like to stand against a wolf and wait every minute that it will tear you to pieces!
We were facing each other. The eyes of the wolf burned with malice, it seemed that he was just waiting for me to take out my hand, but to do this meant to die completely. Then I thrust my hand even further, grabbed his insides and turned the wolf inside out like a glove. The wolf died at once.
But I did not dare to resort to this method when I once met a mad dog in a narrow alley in Petersburg.
“We must run,” I thought, and to make my run easier, I threw off my fur coat and started home as fast as I could.
The coat was expensive, lined with valuable fur - the catch of my hunt. I was sorry to lose him, and I sent a servant for him and ordered him to hang his coat in the wardrobe.
The next day my Ivan terribly frightened me. He ran into the room, shouting furiously:
- Mister Baron, your coat has gone mad!
Ivan was right. The minute I entered the dressing room, the following picture presented itself to me. The enraged coat, which had been bitten by a mad dog, ruffled and tore at my dress dress. With difficulty, Ivan and I put everything in order. I always got out of trouble easily thanks to the happily prevailing circumstances, my resourcefulness, and also thanks to the fact that I never lost my presence of mind. All this is extremely necessary for someone who wants to be a good hunter, warrior or sailor. However, the hunter, admiral or commander who will rely only on his lucky star, on his personal courage and resourcefulness, and does not bother to acquire the necessary knowledge, material resources and good weapons, necessary for the success of the business, will act in the highest degree recklessly.
I did not deserve this reproach for negligence. I had the best horses, dogs and all kinds of weapons, and my art of shooting and training animals aroused the general amazement of connoisseurs. I can say without boasting that the memory of me as a hunter will live for a long time in forests, fields and meadows. I will not obstruct your attention with a detailed description of my stables, kennels and weapons, as empty-headed bouncers like to do. I will tell in passing only about two dogs that served me so faithfully and were so good at hunting that the memory of them still lives on in my memory.
One of them was a cop. With her intelligence, tirelessness and instinct, she aroused the general envy of my many hunter friends.
I hunted with her day and night. When it got dark, I hung a lantern on her tail and hunted at night as well as during the day.
Somehow (this happened shortly after my marriage) my wife decided to go hunting with me. I drove ahead to look for game, and soon my faithful dog froze in front of a flock of several hundred partridges. I did not shoot, waiting for the Baroness, who was to drive up with my lieutenant and servant. However, time passed, and they were all gone.
Finally I got worried and turned my horse back. Halfway through, I heard some kind of quiet, plaintive groans that were heard not far from me. I looked in all directions, but around at a great distance, no matter how closely I looked, no one was visible.
Jumping off the horse, I put my ear to the ground and realized that the groans were coming from under the ground. I could clearly distinguish between the voices of the wife and the servant. Looking around, I noticed a hole in a coal mine not far from me. There was no doubt that they had failed there.
I jumped on my horse and rushed to the nearest village after the miners, who with great difficulty pulled the unfortunates out of the deep mine. First of all, they pulled out the servant and his horse, then the lieutenant, and finally my wife and her Turkish horse. It is remarkable that neither people nor horses suffered in the least, despite the considerable height from which they fell, and escaped with only minor bruises; but the fear they experienced was so great that it defies any description. As you understand, there was nothing to think about further hunting. Saving the dead, I naturally forgot about the dog. - Page 3 - The next day I had to leave home on business. I returned only two weeks later and soon noticed the absence of my Diana.
Nobody worried about her; everyone thought she was running after me. We looked for her everywhere, but nowhere, to my great grief, could not find.
Suddenly I wondered if the dog had remained in the field to guard the partridges.
Now agitated by fear and now by hope, I rode to where I hunted in last time and, to unspeakable delight, I found Diana there, who was standing in a bar.
"Pil!" - I shouted to her. Diana jumped, the partridges soared, and I put twenty-five pieces in one shot. The poor animal was so weak from hunger and fatigue that it barely crawled to me. She could not reach the house. Involuntarily I had to take her to my saddle. Needless to say, with what pleasure and joy I endured this little inconvenience.
Thanks to her good care, Diana soon recovered and a few weeks later helped me solve an amazing riddle, which without her help would have remained forever unsolved.
For two days Diana continuously chased the same hare. Several times she drove the hare at me, but it was not possible to shoot, since the hare did not let me get close.
"What an obsession?" I thought. No matter what adventures I had to go through, and such a case had never happened before, I was lost in conjectures.
Finally I managed to shoot this hare. How to describe the surprise that gripped me when I came closer to him.
You cannot imagine what I saw! In addition to the usual paws, he had four more on his back. When the two lower pairs of legs got tired, he rolled over on the move and ran again. In a word, he did it like a skilled swimmer who, tired of swimming on his stomach, turned onto his back. Now it is clear why Diana could not catch up with this outlandish beast.
I have never met such an eight-legged hare again, and even this I would not have had to see if I did not have such a wonderful dog. For her rare qualities, I was going to call her "the only one", if I did not have another dog - a greyhound, which challenged Diana for the honor of this nickname.
This dog was remarkable not so much for its beauty as for its amazing agility and in this respect had no rivals. Anyone who saw her on the hunt was delighted with her. My friends understood why I love her so much and why I hunt with her so often.
Once, when she was young, we hunted hares. I could barely keep up with her on horseback. Suddenly I heard from afar, as if a whole pack of dogs was chasing, but they were barking in such weak and gentle voices that I was at a dead end. Having approached closer, I saw a miracle of miracles.
The hare on the run produced rabbits, and the dog gave birth, and both brought in an equal number. Instinctively, the newborn rabbits began to run, and the puppies followed after them. Thus, it turned out that I, having started hunting with one dog, finished it with six and instead of one hare drove six. My greyhound has run so much in its lifetime that it erased all its paws, almost to the belly. When she got old, she could no longer chase hares and served me only in hunting badgers as a dachshund.
With no less pleasure I remember a horse that was excellent in all respects, which had no price. This horse came to me thanks to a lucky chance and gave me the opportunity to show the art of my riding, in which I had no rivals.
It was in Lithuania with Count Przhbowski in his wonderful estate. All the ladies' company and I were sitting at the tea table, while the men went out onto the porch to admire the thoroughbred horse that had recently been brought to the count's estate. Suddenly we heard shouts through the open window. I jumped out onto the porch and saw a terrible commotion in the yard. The horse ran wildly, kicked and did not allow anyone to come near it. Everyone was frightened, and no one dared to approach her. The most daring riders did not know what to do; fear and concern were written on all faces. Then I deftly, in one leap, jumped on the back of the horse. She recoiled to the side, reared up, began to beat with her front and hind legs, but soon, feeling a skillful and strong hand, she resigned herself.
I really wanted to show the ladies my horseback ride, but so as not to disturb them, I made the horse jump into the dining room through the open window. Here I began to ride now at a walk, now at a trot, now at a gallop, then I made the horse jump on the tea table and go through the whole riding school, which delighted the ladies. The horse was so amazingly agile that he did not break a single cup, not a single glass.
The Count was also delighted with my extraordinary art and, with his usual courtesy, presented me with a horse and wished me success in my military service, where I was going to enter under the command of Count Minich.
I could not imagine a better gift. - Page 4 - I was looking forward to the performance of our army on a campaign against the Turks, And the Count's gift turned out to be very useful: I needed just such a horse, meek as a lamb and hot as Bucephalus. She had to always remind me of the duty of an honest soldier and the great deeds of Alexander the Great.
The main goal of our campaign was to restore the honor of Russian weapons, which suffered somewhat during the reign of Peter the Great during the battle of the Prut.
Our army, after difficult and glorious campaigns, won a brilliant victory over the Turks.
Modesty does not allow subordinates to ascribe to themselves great victories, the glory of which is usually attributed only to generals. I do not claim the honor of the victory won by our army over the enemy. We all did our duty. And these words for a patriot, a soldier, just an honest person have a much greater meaning than the gentlemen of politics suggest.
I served in the hussars. A separate corps was under my command. More than once I was sent to intelligence and completely trusted my mind and courage. Once, after a heated battle with the Turks, we captured an enemy fortress. I was the first to burst into it on my steed and stopped in the square to order the trumpeting of the gathering. To my amazement, not a single hussar was near me.
Waiting for them, I turned to the well to water the horse. She greedily fell to the water and, no matter how much she drank, she could not get drunk. I looked back and almost fell off the saddle in surprise. It turned out that the horse had no back half of the body. It is clear that the water could not resist and flowed out to the ground, without bringing the poor animal either coolness or relief.
I could not explain to myself how this could happen. At that moment my messenger rode up. Congratulating me on the victory, he said the following. Following on the heels of the fleeing enemy, I jumped into the fortress gates. At the same moment, a heavy iron grate was unexpectedly lowered, which cut off the rear half of my horse. I did not notice anything and rode on. The severed half remained for some time not far from the gate, kicking and scattering the Turks with the blows of their hooves, and then galloped off to the nearest meadow, where, as the messenger told me, I would probably find it, I immediately turned back and rushed to the meadow, where to my greatest joy and found the back half of the horse walking peacefully.
So, there was no doubt that both halves of my horse were alive, I sent for the veterinarian. Without thinking twice, he sewed both halves with young laurel shoots. The wound healed very well, but then something amazing happened that could only happen to such an extraordinary horse. The shoots took root into the body and grew. A gazebo was formed, in the shade of which I made the rest of the trip. The laurels came in handy, as we won many more brilliant victories.
I will mention another incident that happened after a heated battle. I fought so bravely, for so long with the enemy, that my hand, against my will, tirelessly waved right and left. Despite my best efforts, I could not stop her. For fear of hurting myself and others, I had to wear my arm in a sling for a week, as after a dislocation.
If a man dares to mount such a wild horse as mine, then he can be believed even in the fact that for another would be completely incredible.
Once we were besieging a city whose name I have forgotten. The field marshal wanted to know what was happening with the enemy. It was very difficult to get into the fortress past the vigilant sentries, and there was no reliable person to whom this could be entrusted.
Filled with courage, burning with service zeal, I took up this business. Without thinking twice, I stood near the mouth of the largest cannon and waited for it to be fired. At that moment, when the core flew out, I jumped on top of it, hoping in this way to fly to the fortress.
On the way, I began to think.
“Hm! I said to myself. - Suppose you get to the fortress, but how will you get back? Finally, what awaits you in the fortress? There is no doubt that you will be recognized and, as a spy, hanged up on the first gallows. The most prudent thing is to go home, good-bye. "
Hastily sketched in a notebook a plan of the enemy fortifications, I jumped to the oncoming shell flying to our camp, and safely returned to my own.
My horse was amazingly adept at taking any barriers. For her, there were no fences, ditches, in a word, no obstacles, which made it possible for me to always drive in a straight direction. Once I went on her to hunt hares. Fleeing from my pursuit, the hare ran across the high road at the moment when a carriage with two young ladies belonging to high society was passing.All this happened so quickly and unexpectedly that I did not have time to turn the horse, and it flew at full gallop through the open carriage windows. I barely had time to bow to the ladies and apologize for the disturbance caused.
Another time, when a horse jumped to leap over a swamp, I noticed that the swamp was wider than I expected. The minute the horse was lifted into the air, I turned it back to accelerate again. But the second time the horse miscalculated and fell into the swamp up to its neck. Imminent death lay ahead of me. I was saved only thanks to my amazing strength. I squeezed the sides of the horse with my feet and began to pull myself by the scythe and thus pulled myself and the horse out of the swamp
Despite all my courage and intelligence, for the strength, speed and endurance of my horse, and with me there were failures. I even had the misfortune to be captured by the Turks, who defeated me with the superiority of their forces. - Page 5 - In captivity, the saddest fate befell me: the Turks sold me into slavery.
I was forced to do the simplest work, easy, but boring and completely unfamiliar to me. I was appointed to the position of beekeeper in the Sultan's gardens. My duty was to drive the bees to pasture in the field every day at sunrise, to guard them there all day, and in the evening to drive them back to the hive.
One evening I noticed that one bee was missing. Looking around, I saw two bears, who, hoping to profit from honey, were about to tear apart a bee. I had nothing in my hands except a silver hatchet. It was him that I launched at the bears in order to scare them.
I really managed to save the bee in this way, but, unfortunately, another misfortune happened. The swing of the hand was so strong that the hatchet, flying over the heads of the bears, flew higher and higher until it fell on the moon.
How to get it? Where can I find such a ladder to climb the moon? Then I remembered that Turkish beans grow quickly and often reach amazing heights.
Immediately, I planted the bean in the ground. Before my eyes, it began to grow and climbed higher and higher, until it caught on one of the horns of the month. I was incredibly happy, climbed up the stem and safely reached the moon. It was not easy to find a silver hatchet where everything glittered like silver. Finally I found him on a pile of straw.
I was about to go down to earth, but alas! while I was looking for the hatchet, the bean dried up under the burning rays of the sun and crumbled.
What to do? I made a long rope of straw and, tying it by the horn of the moon, set off on my way, sliding my right hand along the rope, and holding a hatchet in my left. When I got to the end of the rope, I chopped off its upper end and tied it to the lower one. Thus, I managed to descend a fairly long distance, but, unfortunately, my rope from the constant chopping and tying frayed and broke, and I flew to the ground with such a rapidity that I lost consciousness.
Falling from a terrible height, I went into the ground for twenty meters. I soon came to my senses, but did not know how to get out of the hole. But what does need not teach? With my fingernails and fingers, I dug steps in the ground and safely walked out into the light of God.
Soon after this incident, peace was made with the Turks. I and other prisoners were brought to St. Petersburg. I did not want to serve, I retired and left Russia.
In that year, a terrible cold reigned throughout Europe. Even the sun itself has caught a cold and to this day it cannot get better. No, no, yes, and will be ill. It was these cold weather that made me endure more hardships and inconveniences on the way back than when I traveled across Russia.
The Turks kept my horse; inevitably, I had to go home by postage.
At one point, the road ran in a narrow corridor, between high fence of thorns. I ordered the jamshik to blow the horn to prevent a collision with oncoming people. Jamshik blew with all his might, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not blow out a single sound. This struck me as very strange and did not go in vain for us: we ran into an oncoming carriage. At this point, the road was so narrow that there was no way to part. Without thinking twice, I jumped out of the carriage, unharnessed the horses, loaded the carriage with all the luggage on my back and jumped with it over the fence into a fathom high. It was not easy for me: the carriage itself weighed a lot, and there was enough luggage in it. Putting the carriage down, I jumped over the fence to the side where my horses remained, and again jumped over the fence with them. The driver harnessed the horses, and we made it safely to the inn.
I forgot to mention that one of the horses, a hot four-year-old, started snorting and kicking during my journey across the fence. But I thrust her hind legs into the pocket of my coat, and she inevitably calmed down.
At the inn we began to recall an incident with us on the road. I was sitting on a bench, the driver took off the horn, hung it on a nail over the stove and began to bask by the fire.
But that's what happened then! Suddenly the horn started playing. We were incredibly surprised and couldn't understand why he was playing. The sounds, frozen from the terrible cold, thawed out and loudly and clearly rang out in the room to the great joy of the Yamgpik. Sounds all rushed and rushed; one piece followed another, and the impromptu concert ended with a lovely evening song.
Allow me to finish my story about the trip in Russia.
There are travelers who are experiencing extraordinary adventures. It is not surprising if their stories raise some degree of doubt. However, if any of the young readers question the veracity of my stories, he will deeply offend me. Better to let him shut the book before I move on to my adventures at sea, even more extraordinary, though no less reliable. - Page 6 - Adventure one I have traveled a lot by sea and by land. A series of my wanderings around the world began with a sea voyage, which I undertook long before my trip to Russia, where so many amazing, just recounted episodes happened to me.
From a young age I dreamed of traveling, almost from that tender age when a fluff barely began to break through on my chin, which could be mistaken for anything but a beard. My father also traveled extensively in his lifetime. On long winter evenings, he loved to tell us about his adventures, and this has developed in me an innate passion for everything unknown.
Every time I got an opportunity, I asked my father for permission to visit foreign countries. But it was all in vain. Sometimes I seemed to be able to convince him, but my mother and aunt rebelled ardently against my plans, and I failed after failure.
Once a relative of my mother came to visit us. He loved me very much; I found myself a nice, cheerful young man and promised to help me fulfill my cherished dream.
His arguments were more convincing than mine. After endless conversations and disputes, in which the female half of our family took an especially ardent part, it was finally decided that I would go with my relative to the island of Ceylon, where his uncle was the governor.
Having received emergency orders from the Dutch government, we soon departed from Amsterdam.
The move was successful. Only once on the way did we find ourselves in a violent storm. Its consequences were so remarkable that I will say a few words about it.
The storm began at a time when we approached one of the islands and dropped anchor to take firewood and fresh water, in a short time the element broke out, a furious hurricane began to uproot huge thick trees and carry them through the air,
These trees weighing several hundred poods in weight rose above the ground to a height of several miles and seemed from there no more than bird's feathers flying through the air. But when the storm subsided, all the trees sank upright on the ground, in their original place, and began to grow again. Everything took its usual form, as if the hurricane had never happened.
Only one of the forest giants happened to something strange. At the moment when the storm pulled him out, a husband and wife were sitting on it and picking cucumbers, which in this part of the world do not grow in beds, but on trees.
The involuntary travelers made their flight safely, but with their weight they tilted the tree, and it fell not where it had grown before, but to the side. Moreover, it fell to the ground at the very moment when the local ruler walked through the garden, and, fortunately, crushed him.
"Why fortunately?" - probably you ask.
Yes, it should be said precisely to happiness. The head of the people was a terrible despot, and all his subjects, not excluding their favorites, were the most unfortunate people in the world. In the pantries of the palace, food rotted, and meanwhile the people were dying of hunger. The state was reliably protected from enemies, however, by order of the sovereign, all young people were obliged to carry out military service, they made excellent soldiers with severe punishments and severe punishments. On occasion, these soldiers were sold to the neighboring king who paid more. This trade brought the lord millions of shells, which he added to the hundreds of thousands inherited from his father.
In gratitude for the great service rendered, albeit by accident, the people elevated a happy couple to the throne. Despite the fact that, having approached too close to the sun during the flight, these kind people lost their eyesight and became somewhat stupid, they nevertheless ruled the state with dignity. Each of the applicants, as I later learned, when picking cucumbers, always prayed: "God, save our master."
Having repaired the ship, badly damaged by the storm, and bowing to the sovereign and his wife, we left the harbor. - Page 7 - A favorable wind was blowing. After six weeks we arrived safely in Ceylon.
About two weeks later, the governor's eldest son invited me to hunt. I accepted this invitation with the greatest joy. My companion, a strong and healthy man, easily tolerated the tropical heat. I, in spite of the fact that we walked slowly, got tired very quickly, lagged more and more and, finally, completely lost sight of my companion. I walked through the forest. A stormy stream that ran not far away poured freshness and coolness and beckoned to rest. Before I had time to sit down, I heard a rustle behind me.
I jumped up and from horror could not move. A huge tiger was walking towards me. It was obvious that he was going to have a lot of breakfast and, of course, would not wait for consent. My gun was loaded with shot. This charge was good for a hare, but what did it mean for a tiger! “Whatever happens,” I said to myself and aimed at random. Out of excitement, I fired before the tiger approached the shot and missed. The tiger roared and rushed at me with terrible fury. Only out of a sense of self-preservation, I was ready to resort to the last means of salvation - flight. I started to run and almost at the same moment came across a terrible crocodile, at the mere recollection of which I still get goosebumps. The crocodile opened its huge mouth to swallow me.
Imagine what a terrible situation I was in! Behind the tiger, in front of the crocodile, to my right is the abyss where poisonous snakes crawled.
An unspeakable horror seized me. I think, in my place, Hercules would have been scared no less than me. Like a sheaf, I fell to the ground. On the one hand, a tiger, on the other, a crocodile, they threatened me with certain death. Several long, painful seconds passed in this way.

Suddenly I heard a sound, sharp and strong. I raised my head and understood everything. What I saw caused in me both boundless surprise and incredible joy. The tiger, which jumped at me at the moment when I fell to the ground, did not calculate the jump, jumped over me and fell into the crocodile's mouth.
The tiger, which had a very large head, was stuck in its mouth and could not free itself, and the crocodile was unable to swallow it. In an instant I jumped to the floundering animals and with one blow of my saber cut off the tiger's head; a lifeless body fell at my feet. Having finished with the tiger, I grabbed the gun and began to push its head into the crocodile's mouth until it suffocated.
Soon after, my companion, worried about my long absence, returned. He congratulated me on such a glorious victory.
When I told the governor about this amazing incident, he ordered to send for the tiger and crocodile I had killed. From the tiger skin I ordered to sew pouches; I gave some of them to my Ceylon friends. The rest were taken to Holland and presented to the burgomaster. It cost me a lot of work to give up the thousand ducats that the burgomaster wanted to give me for my present.
I ordered to make a stuffed animal out of crocodile skin and brought it as a gift to the Amsterdam Museum, which is very proud of my gift as one of the greatest attractions.
I will tell you about another extraordinary phenomenon that I had to observe on the way back from Ceylon to Europe. Suddenly our ship was forced to change course. This circumstance made me very happy, because thanks to it I got to know the warm Gulf Stream. The weather was unusually warm, but on sunny days the water was so hot that one could boil meat or eggs in it.
Most of all I was struck by the huge schools of all kinds of sea fish, which swam and played merrily near the ship. And when they could be caught with a bait or a net, then in the air they immediately died and turned out to be completely cooked, so that they could be eaten right there, and they tasted excellent. The question of how it is possible for boiled fish to frolic in boiling sea water occupied us for a long time until we found an explanation for it. The water warmed up gradually, and the fish gradually got used to the higher temperature. When she then got into colder air, the heat, of course, rushed in, killed the life in her, and boiled fish could be immediately served on the table.
There was, therefore, nothing surprising in this phenomenon. - Page 8 - Second adventure In 1776 I sailed from Portsmouth to North America on an English ship. It was a well-armed warship with a hundred cannons.
No special adventures happened to us on the way, only once, when we were walking at a distance of three hundred miles from the mouth of the St. Lawrence, the ship hit something that we took for an underwater rock. However, when we measured the depth, we did not find the bottom at a distance of five hundred fathoms.
This incident seemed extraordinary and incomprehensible. In addition, we lost the rudder, the masts broke, two of them fell to the deck.
One of the sailors, who was on the mast, was thrown far into the sea from the blow. He escaped only thanks to the fact that on the fly he clung to the tail of a large sea bird and slowly descended with it. When the bird was on the water, he sat astride it and swam to the ship.
The blow was so strong that everyone on the middle deck was thrown high. I hit my head hard against the ceiling and my head sank deep into my shoulders. Only a few months later, the neck and head returned to their original place.
Soon everything became clear: the rock we ran into was not a rock at all. It was a colossal whale dozing peacefully in the sun. Awakened by our screams and noise, the whale flew into a rage, seized the large anchor hanging in the stern of the ship with its teeth, and pulled us at a breakneck speed.
For ten hours we rushed to no one knows where. It is difficult to say where and when we would have stopped, but, fortunately, the anchor chain broke and the whale swam further alone. We got off by losing the anchor.
Six months later, returning to Europe, we saw the same whale. But now he was dead. His huge body swayed on the surface of the water. The monster was so large that only a small part of it could be taken aboard.
Having sailed on a boat, we cut off his head with great difficulty. To great joy, our anchor was in the mouth of the whale; the end of an anchor chain ten fathoms long protruded from the hollow of the left tooth.
The whale encounter was the only outstanding incident on this voyage. I'm sorry! I almost forgot another accident. When the whale was dragging the ship, the last one leaked. The water arrived very quickly. We were in danger of sinking in half an hour. The hole was quite large. Fortunately, I was the first to notice the trouble. And then a wonderful thought occurred to me; the ship and the crew owed their salvation to her. Without further ado, I plugged the hole with the back of my body. Of course, it was pretty cool to sit, but it did not last long - I was soon released thanks to the skill of a carpenter who came to the rescue. - Page 9 - Third adventure Once I nearly died in the Mediterranean. One fine summer day I was swimming near Marseille. As soon as I entered the water, I suddenly saw - a huge fish, its mouth wide open, swimming right at me. It was impossible to get away from the fish. What to do? I bent over and slipped safely between the fish's teeth into its stomach. It goes without saying that complete darkness reigned in my new room, but on the other hand, I could not complain about the lack of warmth.

My stay in the stomach of the monster was extremely unpleasant for its owner, who made every possible effort to get rid of the uninvited guest. Taking advantage of the spaciousness of my room, I began to walk, run, jump, somersault and disturb the monster in every possible way. But when I began to dance the Scottish dance, quickly moving my legs, the animal became extremely irritable and began to rush violently from side to side and finally rose almost vertically out of the water. At that moment he was noticed from a passing Italian ship. The sailors began to throw harpoons and after a few minutes they pulled the monster onto the deck.
Suddenly I heard the assembled sailors advise on where to start cutting the fish in order to get more fish oil. But fortunately, their knives did not hit me. As soon as the light entered the darkness, I screamed with all my might. I sent greetings to the sailors, said that I was glad to see these kind people who freed me from my stuffy dungeon.
It is difficult to convey the surprise that gripped the sailors when they heard a human voice coming from the belly of the fish. They were even more amazed when I jumped out of the fish and greeted them with a bow. - Page 10 - The fourth adventure When I served with the Turkish Sultan, I was very fond of taking walks on my two-masted ship along the Sea of Marmara, from where a wonderful view of Constantinople opened up.
Once, sailing on the sea, I admired the wonderful clear sky and suddenly saw above me some kind of round object no larger than a billiard ball, to which something else was attached.
I had an excellent long-range rifle with me, which I never parted with. I loaded it with a bullet and fired. The object that caught my attention was still in the air. I loaded the rifle again, but with two bullets, but this did not lead to anything. Only with the third shot, when the gun was loaded with four or five bullets, did I manage to pierce the mysterious ball, which began to slowly descend.
Imagine my surprise! About four meters from my ship, a gilded basket with a huge balloon fell into the water.
In the basket was an aeronaut, and next to him lay half a freshly roasted lamb. I told my men to take this man aboard the ship.
The balloonist was French. He was dressed very richly: from each pocket of his vest hung two gold chains with a mass of key rings, on which were painted portraits of noble men and women. From each loop of his jacket hung a gold medal. The fingers are adorned with precious diamond rings. Pockets full of wallets stuffed tightly with gold. The Frenchman's excitement was so great that he could hardly speak.
Having calmed down a little, he told us the following:
- I am a rope dancer and equilibrist. Eight days ago, I rose from an English cape on a ball with a lamb to show my number to the large audience that had gathered for the performance. Unfortunately, about ten minutes after I got up, a strong wind blew and carried the balloon to the sea. I was flying at a terrible height. Already on the third day I was tormented by severe hunger, and the poor lamb had to be slaughtered.
I climbed higher and higher. Already a month has long remained under me, and the ball flew and flew. A day later, I got so close to the sun that it burned my eyebrows. Having peeled the lamb, I put it in a completely open place, where the sun warmed most of all, and after forty minutes the lamb was fried. That’s what I ate all the time.
The Frenchman paused and began to look into the distance, from where the city could be seen. He was extremely surprised to learn that it was Constantinople and that the wind had carried it so far.
“My ball lasted so long in air,” he added, “because the conductor from the valve hot air balloon to release hydrogen, unfortunately, it was cut off. If your shot did not pierce the ball, I would have to rush between heaven and earth until the second coming.
The Frenchman, in a fit of generosity, presented the basket to my boatswain. As for the ball, it was completely unusable due to the damage caused by my shots. - Page 11 - Fifth adventure A few months before my return to Europe, I had an amazing adventure. The Sultan, to whom I was introduced by the Russian, French and Roman ambassadors, gave me a secret mission to Cairo, of extreme importance.
I left Turkey, accompanied by a large retinue. Dear, I had the opportunity to increase my servant with several very interesting subjects.
Not far from Constantinople, I met a small, thin man. Despite having a fifty-pound lead weight tied to each of his legs, he ran very quickly.
This surprised me a lot and I asked him:
- Where are you running, buddy? Why are weights tied to your feet?
- I'm running from Vienna. Half an hour ago I left this city, -said the runner. - In Vienna, I served with noble gentlemen, but today I received a resignation. Now I am heading to Constantinople to look for a job. There is no need for me to rush, and so, in order to slow down my run, I tied these weights, remembering the favorite saying of my school teacher: "The quieter you go, the further you will be."
I liked the walker. I invited him to enter my service, to which he willingly agreed. We drove on. We met many countries and cities on the way. Somehow, not far from the road, I saw a man lying motionless on a wonderful meadow overgrown with lush grass. It seemed to me that he was fast asleep. However, this man did not sleep: he put his ear to the ground, as if listening to what the inhabitants of the underworld were doing.
- What are you listening to, my friend? I asked him.
- Out of boredom, I listen to how the grass grows in the field.
- And you hear it?
- You bet, it's so easy!
- Come to my service. “Who knows what you have to listen to ..,” I thought.
The man got up and followed me.
Soon I noticed a hunter on a small mound. He aimed at something for a long time and then fired, as it seemed to me, into the air.
- Hello, Mr. Hunter! Please tell me, what were you shooting at? Except for the sky, I see nothing here.
- O! I'm just trying a new gun. There, at the Strasbourg Cathedral, on the spire, sat a sparrow. I shot him now,
Anyone who knows my passion for a noble occupation will readily understand me and will not be surprised that I rushed on my neck to this wonderful shooter. Of course, I did not regret anything to take him into my service.
We set off again.
We traveled a lot of countries, cities and finally reached Mount Lebanon. A century-old cedar forest appeared. Here stood a stout, stocky man and pulled with both hands on the rope, which was tied around the entire forest.
- Why are you doing this, buddy? - I asked this Samson.
- Why, I came to chop wood to build a house, but forgot the ax. I must somehow help the grief,
With these words, he at once tore at the rope and the whole forest, occupying no less than a square mile, like a reed, collapsed to the ground. It's not hard to guess what I did. I decided not to part with the strong man, even if all my ambassadorial salaries were required.
Finally we got to Egypt. But as soon as we crossed the border, a terrible hurricane arose. Every minute I was afraid that my carriages, horses and people would be carried away by the whirlwind.
To the left of the road were seven windmills. Their wings whirled like mad. To the right of the road, opposite the mill, I saw a man of extraordinary thickness, covering his right nostril with his index finger.
As soon as he noticed what a terrible situation we were in, he immediately turned to us and respectfully took off his hat, like a soldier in front of an officer.At that very moment, the wind died down, and all the mills immediately stopped. Surprised by this incident, which seemed supernatural to me, I shouted to the fat man:
- What does this mean? Has a demon entered into you, or are you the devil yourself?
“Forgive me, Your Grace,” the fat man answered me, “I was busy producing the wind at the order of my master the miller, but so that the wind would not blow away all seven mills, I plugged one nostril.
"It is excellent! When you return home, - I said to myself, - and start telling your wonderful adventures at sea and on land, and you will take your breath away, this man, whose lungs are not worse than blacksmith's fur, will be very useful.
We soon agreed, and this man joined my retinue.
Finally we arrived in Cairo. I successfully completed all the orders of the Sultan, and a week later, together with my wonderful servants, I decided to go back. - Page 12 - Returning from the Egyptian expedition, I more and more entered into the mercy of the Sultan. His Majesty invited me every morning and evening to his table.
I must admit that of all the rulers of the world, the Sultan has the most delicate and exquisite table. Of course, this remark should be attributed only to food, and not to drinks, for it is known that Mohammed forbade his followers to drink wine. For this reason, you cannot count on even a glass of good wine in any Turkish restaurant.
But much that cannot be done openly is often done on the sly. Despite the prohibition of the Koran, some Turks know a lot about wine no worse than a straightforward German. The Sultan was also a great wine lover.
After dinner, His Majesty went to his study, where usually a bottle of good wine was waiting for him.
One day the Sultan made a surreptitious sign to me to follow him into his office. Locking the door, he took a bottle out of a small secret cabinet and said:
- Munchausen, I know that you Christians understand a lot about wine. I still have a bottle of Tokay. I'm sure you have never drunk such wine in your life.
The Sultan poured himself and me some wine and clinked glasses with me. - What do you think? Isn't the wine not bad?
“The wine is excellent, your Majesty,” I objected, “but, with your permission, I will allow myself to say that in Vienna with the late Emperor Charles VI, I drank much better wine.
- My friend, I believe you, but really, there is no Tokaj in the world better than this. It was presented to me by a Hungarian nobleman who had only one bottle of this rare wine.
- Believe me, your majesty, wine is not guilty. I bet that in an hour I will deliver you a bottle of Tokay from the Imperial cellar, which will be immeasurably better.
- My friend Munchausen, you really are delusional.
- No, I'm not delusional. I repeat that in an hour I will deliver you a bottle of Tokay from the imperial cellar. After tasting this wine, you will not want to look at yours.
- Munchausen, Munchausen! You seem to want to laugh at me. Be careful, this will not work for you. for nothing. Until now, I knew you as a completely truthful person, but now, I swear, you are not telling the truth.
- Your Majesty! I am ready to prove in practice that I speak the real truth. If I do not keep my promise, and your Majesty knows that I hate all lies and boasting, order me to cut off my head, which is worth something, and therefore let me know that you will offer it in return.
- I take you at your word. If you do not keep your promise and at exactly four o'clock there is no Tokay, do not expect pardon, your head will be cut off immediately. I warn you that even my best friend will not allow myself to be fooled. If you win the bet, get from my treasury as much gold, silver and jewelry as the strongest man can carry.
“So be it,” I replied.
They brought me a pen and ink, and I wrote a note to Empress Maria Teresa: “Your Imperial Majesty! Without a doubt, as your late father's sole heir, you have deigned to inherit the late emperor's wine cellar. Allow me to ask Your Majesty for a bottle of Tokaj, which I often drank from your father. I ask you to give my messenger the very best wine: this is a bet. I take this opportunity to bring assurances to Your Majesty of the deepest respect, etc. etc."
It was five minutes past three. I handed the note to my walker. The latter took the weights off his feet and walked to Vienna. While waiting for the Tokay, the Sultan and I finished the bottle we had begun.
It struck a quarter past three, half, three quarters, and there was no rumor or spirit about the runner! Frankly speaking, I became a coward in earnest. It seemed to me that the Sultan was not without a second thought glancing at the bell, and I well understood that the executioner would not be slow to arrive at the bell.
True, the Sultan allowed me to go out into the garden to breathe fresh air, but my every step was watched vigilantly by two servants. The clock showed five minutes to four. My excitement intensified more and more, and I sent for the shooter and the servant, who had an amazingly fine ear, that is, for my "listener."
They immediately responded to my call. The "listener" fell to the ground, listened a little and said that the runner was fast asleep far from here, snoring at the top of his nose. I was horrified by these words and did not know what to do.
But then my gallant shooter ran up to the high terrace, stood on tiptoe, looked into the distance and exclaimed:
- I swear by the salvation of my soul, a lazy man sleeps under an oak tree near Belgrade, and a bottle near it. Wait a minute, I'll wake you up!
Immediately he loaded his gun and shot at the oak. A whole bunch of acorns, twigs and leaves fell on the runner. He jumped up and walked even faster, fearing to be late. For half a minute to four o'clock, my envoy stood in the Sultan's office with a bottle in his hands and a letter from Maria Teresa herself. My triumph was endless. At first the Sultan was as if dissatisfied that I had won the bet, but soon the dissatisfaction passed, and he told me in the most cheerful tone;
“I hope, Munchausen, you won't be offended if I save this bottle for myself. You are on better terms with the Viennese court than I am, and you will always be able to get yourself a Tokaj.
With these words, he hid the bottle in the cabinet, put the key in the pocket of his wide trousers and rang the bell to call the treasurer.
What delightful music the silvery ringing of a bell seemed to me! There is nothing to be done, you have to pay a bet.
`` Please give me immediately to my friend Munchausen, '' the Sultan turned to the treasurer who entered, `` as much gold and jewelry as the strongest man can carry.
The treasurer took me into the palace dungeons, filled to the brim with treasures. I called my strong man. He put on his shoulders all the gold that was in the Sultan's storerooms, and we hurried to the sea.
In the harbor, I hired the largest ship, and immediately set out on a good day with all my people and wealth.
But exactly what I feared happened. The treasurer ran to the Sultan and said that my strongman had emptied all the storerooms.
The Sultan immediately repented of his reckless promise and ordered the admiral with the entire fleet to go in pursuit of me.
We were only two miles away from the harbor when I saw the Turkish fleet pursuing us in full sail. To tell the truth, I again began to fear for my head.
Then my servant, who so skillfully knew how to make the wind, came up to me and said:
- Your Excellency, please don’t worry!
He immediately stood at the stern, turned one nostril towards the Turkish fleet and the other towards our sails, and began to blow with all his might. From the terrible wind, the entire Turkish fleet flew away from us into the harbor. And we arrived in Italy in a few hours.
But I did not use my treasures. Italy has terrible poverty and misery; there are beggars everywhere on the streets, and the police are not watching. Following the impulses of my good heart, I gave most of the treasures I brought to the poor, and what was left was taken from me by robbers on the way to Rome. So, I did not get rich from the gold and treasures that I won from the Sultan on a wager. - Page 13 - The sixth adventure
(Recorded from the words of one of the close friends of Baron Munchausen) Having finished the previous story, the baron, despite requests, refused to continue the conversation and left, leaving the society in the best mood. But he promised at the first opportunity to tell the very interesting adventures of his father and a few funny anecdotes.
Everyone began to express their opinions on the last story, which made a strong impression on the listeners.
One of those present, a friend of the baron who was with him in Turkey, said that there was a huge cannon near Constantinople. The famous writer Baron Tott mentioned her in his memoirs.
“As far as I remember,” said the narrator, “that's what Tott said. “The Turks have fortified a huge cannon near the city above the fortress.
It was cast in copper and fired with marble balls, each weighing a thousand pounds.
To see firsthand the destructive effect of this weapon, I asked to fire the cannon. Everyone was horrified, for they were sure that the concussion produced by this shot would destroy all houses and palaces. Little by little, the fear dissipated, and I was finally allowed to shoot.
The cannon was loaded with three hundred pounds of gunpowder and a thousand pounds of marble. When the lighted fuse was brought in, everyone drew back as far as possible. The gunner, whom I gave instructions on how to shoot, was somewhat cowardly.
I commanded "Pli!" A shot rang out. I was thrown against the wall with such force as if the earth shook. Having flown three hundred fathoms, the core burst into three parts. Its fragments sank into the sea and stirred the sea surface. The water boiled and covered with solid foam. Then the fragments hit the opposite mountains. "
“That’s all that I can recall from the story of Baron Tott about the famous cannon,” the narrator continued. - When Baron Munchausen and I were in that area, we were told about the amazing courage of Baron Tott.
Baron Munchausen did not allow the thought that some Frenchman could overshadow him with his feat, he went up to the cannon, loaded it on his shoulders, balanced it and, jumping into the strait, swam to the opposite bank and reached it safely.
Unfortunately, he decided to throw the cannon to its original place from the other side. I say "sorry" because the cannon slipped out of his hands before he swung properly. Having flown half of the strait, it fell into the water, where it lies to this day and, probably, will lie until the second coming.
This incident with the cannon was the reason for the final breakdown of Baron Munchausen with the Sultan. The baron's devastation of the Treasury was long forgotten. Thanks to his large income, in a short time, the Sultan replenished his treasury with new treasures and invited the baron to him, who probably would not have left Turkey even now, if the ill-fated cannon had not perished. This loss so angered the fierce sovereign that he ordered the baron's head to be cut off. Fortunately, one of the well-wishers warned the baron about the impending danger, and he fled that same night to the ship that sailed to Venice and arrived there safely. The Baron did not like to talk about this episode, firstly, because he did not manage to throw the cannon across the strait, and secondly, because his life was in the balance of death. But since this whole story does not put any shadow on the name of the baron, famous for his exploits, sometimes in his absence I allow myself to tell this very curious episode from the life of the baron in Turkey. - Page 14 - Seventh adventure As soon as the baron returned, everyone surrounded him and began to ask him to tell something from his life, so rich in interesting adventures.
The baron did not give in for a long time. He had the gift of narrating in a very entertaining way, but he did it only when he was inspired and never abandoned his habits. Seeing that all attempts to persuade the baron were in vain, everyone began to disperse a little.
Finally, the long-awaited evening came. By the smile that played on the baron's face, everyone understood that he was in a good mood and would not mind telling something.
Everyone fell silent and prepared to listen with great attention.
- During the last siege of Gibraltar, - the baron began his story, - on one of the ships bringing supplies, which was commanded by Lord Rodney, I sailed to the fortress to visit my old friend General Elliot, who gained immortal glory for himself in the defense of Gibraltar, Indescribably we rejoiced friend To a friend. When the first impulses of joy subsided, the general took me to show the fortress. I became familiar with the condition of the garrison and the location of the enemy.
I had with me a magnificent telescope, which I bought in London. I was looking at the enemy camp and suddenly saw that the enemy had directed a thirty-six-pound gun to the place where we were stationed. Without a moment's hesitation, I ordered a forty-eight-pound cannon to be placed in this very spot.
I can say without bragging that I have no rivals in artillery knowledge. I pointed the muzzle of the cannon directly into the muzzle of the enemy gun, and at that moment, when the Spanish gunner brought a lighted fuse, I commanded our gun "Pli!" At the same moment, two shots rang out. Halfway through, the shells collided. Something amazing has happened.

Our enemy's core was thrown back to Africa with terrible force, blew off the head of the gunner and sixteen artillerymen, smashed the masts of three ships standing one after the other, flew another two hundred English miles and finally, in some village, hit the roof of a poor hut, made a hole it fell into the mouth of the old woman, who was sleeping on her back and snoring sweetly. Soon her husband came running, but no matter how hard he tried to pull out the stuck core, he could not do anything. Then he pushed the nucleus into the stomach, from where it came out naturally.
Our shell, throwing back the enemy, flew further, knocked down the cannon from the gun carriage, from which the enemies had just fired at us, hit their warship and pierced the bottom. The ship gave a leak and a few minutes later went to the bottom with all the crew.
This was without a doubt the greatest feat. But I am far from thinking to ascribe it only to myself. Of course, the honor of the invention belonged only to me, but luck also helped. Subsequently, it turned out that a double charge of gunpowder was accidentally put into our forty-eight-pound gun, which must be attributed to the force of the blow of our nucleus, which so successfully reflected the enemy.
For my service, General Elliot offered me to join his garrison as a combat officer, but I declined this offer and contented myself with the fact that the general, in the presence of all the officers, thanked me in the most flattering terms that same evening at dinner.
Feeling boundless sympathy for the British as the bravest people in the world, I decided not to leave the fortress until I did them some other service. Three weeks later, such a case presented itself. I put on the uniform of a Spanish soldier and left the fortress at deep midnight. Unnoticed by anyone, I cautiously made my way into the enemy camp, crept up to the tent where the council of war was taking place regarding the storming of our fortress. I managed to hear everything to the smallest detail. When the council ended, the count and the officers went to bed, and soon the whole camp, not excluding the sentries, fell into a deep sleep. When I was convinced that everyone was asleep, I quietly crept up to the cannons and quickly began to throw them into the sea, one another - farther from the coast.
I worked alone and I must say that it was the most difficult job in my life, because there were more than three hundred cannons. Then I pulled carriages and carts with charging boxes into one pile in the middle of the camp. I tried to make as little noise as possible, so I had to carry carts and carts under my arm. When this pile grew up the mountain, I set it on fire. She blazed like gunpowder. A terrible fire started.
To distract suspicion from myself, I was the first to raise the alarm. It is easy to imagine the terror and confusion that gripped the entire camp. When the panic passed, everyone decided that the guards had been bribed by the enemy and let seven or eight English regiments pass through, which destroyed all the artillery.
In the news published by the government about this case, it was said about the great losses suffered by the enemy as a result of the fire. But no one knew who to attribute it to. Although I, I alone, saved Gibraltar that night. I did not tell anyone, not even General Elliot. - Page 15 - Two months after the siege of Gibraltar was lifted, I had breakfast with General Elliot. It was morning. We chatted nonchalantly. Suddenly, a bomb flew into our room, beyond all expectation (having destroyed the enemy guns, I, for lack of time, left their mortars unharmed) and fell on the table. The general jumped up, as almost anyone in his place would have done, and immediately left the room.
Before the bomb could go off, I grabbed it and carried it to the top of the cliff, from where I saw that a large crowd of people had gathered on the opposite bank of the enemy. What these people were doing, I could not understand, because they were very far from me, and only through a telescope I saw what was happening there. The Spanish soldiers arranged a gallows on which they were going to hang up two of our officers - the general and the colonel. I spent the evening with them in our fortress the night before. At night they made their way into the enemy camp, fell into the hands of the Spaniards and now had to pay with their lives for their risk. It was very far from the rock on which I stood, and I could not throw a bomb with my hands to the place where the gallows stood. Then, fortunately, I remembered that I had a sling in my pocket, the same one with which David had once killed Goliath.
I put a bomb in my sling and threw a shell at the people standing on the hill. In an instant, the bomb flew over to the enemy coast, hit the ground and exploded. Its fragments killed everyone who was there, with the exception of the British officers, who were already hanged, but luckily a piece of the bomb hit the gallows and knocked it down. Our officers found themselves on the ground and did not know how to explain such an amazing incident. They immediately took each other out of the noose and began to run to the shore, where the boats were. Jumping into one of the Spanish boats, they ordered the people in it to take them to our shore. A few minutes later, as I was telling General Elliot what had happened, the miraculously rescued officers entered. Congratulations followed, stories about getting rid of certain death. We celebrated this memorable day with due triumph.
Probably, the reader burns with curiosity to find out how such a jewel as David's sling came to me. I must say that this historical relic has been kept for many centuries in our family. Passing from generation to generation, it went to my father, and from him, shortly before my trip to Gibraltar, it passed to me.
My father once told me a very interesting story, the truth of which none of our acquaintances doubted.
“During my trips abroad,” my father began his story, “I lived in England for a long time. Once I went for a walk on the seashore. Suddenly, an angry sea horse rushed at me. With me there was nothing but a sling. I put two pebbles in it and threw them so deftly at my enemy that I knocked out both of his eyes. The monster became blind, immediately resigned and became tame. Then I jumped on top of him and rode across the sea, bridled with a sling, I rode him across the ocean quickly and easily. In less than three hours we arrived at the opposite bank. I sold my horse to the owner of the Three Glasses Hotel. The innkeeper began to show the monster for money and soon became rich.
- As surprising as the way of my journey, - continued the father, - it does not mean anything in comparison with those amazing discoveries that I made along the way,
My horse did not swim, but ran along the bottom of the sea incredibly fast. Every now and then I met millions of fish, completely different from those that we are used to seeing. In some of them, the head was placed in the middle of the belly, in others - at the tip of the tail. Some gathered in flocks and sang wonderfully, others built palaces of wondrous beauty from the water with colossal columns. The palaces were completely transparent and shimmered inside with multi-colored lights.
Further along the road, I came across a huge chain of mountains, not lower than the Alps, On their slopes rose mighty, of the most diverse species, trees. Instead of fruits, huge sea animals grew on them: lobsters, crayfish, oysters and the like inhabitants of the seas. The largest of them would hardly fit in a cart in which they carry bread, and the smallest would not be lifted by a strong man. Everything that is usually collected and sold in the markets is only the smallest of marine animals, which water plucks from the branches, just as the wind knocks bad, unripe fruits from fruit trees.
Most of the fruit was on the lobster trees: they were completely covered with lobsters. The crayfish and oyster trees were amazingly large. Under the luxurious, spreading foliage of oyster trees, a stunted shrub was placed and, like ivy, twisted around the tree that sheltered it. Small sea snails grew on it.
I was drawn to pluck something from the tree and take it with me, but, unfortunately, all the animals that grew on the trees were very heavy, and most importantly, it was difficult to stop my Pegasus. In addition, I rode at great depths, and the lack of air was especially affected.
There were many dangers along the way. Huge fish were often seen. Jaws wide open, one or the other came close to me and seemed to be waiting for the right moment to swallow us. My poor horse was blind; it was only because of my dexterity that I did not fall prey to these hungry sea monsters. Soon I managed to get safely ashore. "
This is where my father's story ends. It must be added that the famous sling, which so vividly reminded me of this story, for recent times badly worn out. For a long time she was kept in our family and more than once helped out of trouble.
Personally, I only had to resort to it under the circumstances I mentioned above, when I managed so successfully to throw a bomb at the Spaniards and save our officers from the gallows. True, the sling was torn. One piece of it - more authentic - was carried away by the bomb; the other - smaller - remained in my hands. I took it home to preserve it forever. Soon I left Gibraltar for England, where the most wonderful episode of my life happened to me.
I drove into the harbor to send something to Hamburg as a gift to my friends. It was noon. The sun was hot. I was very tired and was looking for a place to rest in the shade. Without thinking twice, I climbed into the first gun I came across and fell asleep in the deepest sleep.
It was just the king's birthday. The cannon was loaded, as it was ordered to fire a volley at exactly one o'clock. Of course, no one could have thought that a man had climbed into the cannon. When the time came, they fired a volley. I flew over the Thames and fell on a haystack in the courtyard of a farm. I was stunned, but this state immediately turned into a deep sleep.
Probably, I would have slept there to this day, if three months later they had not decided to take the hay to the market, and at the same time they woke me up ...
It often happened to me to notice that my listeners, when I told this story, expressed some disbelief on their faces. However, a pear tree standing near a haystack serves as proof that I really slept for three months: these trees usually bloom in early June, and when I woke up, it was covered with the ripe juicy pears, and I immediately ate several pieces with a large appetite. All this time my friends did not stop looking for me all over London and were very surprised and delighted when they found out that I was safe and sound, in the same summer dress in the middle of an autumn September day. - Page 16 - Eighth adventure Without a doubt, readers have heard of the famous traveler to the northern polar countries, Captain Phipps, now Lord Mühlgrave.
I accompanied the captain as his friend and great travel enthusiast.
We were near the North Pole. The telescope, so well known to the reader from my stories, was with me as usual. The same gloomy picture spread before us: the sea and endless ice. I began to look through the pipe, which I advise you to always take with me on a journey, and saw, half a mile from our ship, a huge ice mountain, twice as high as our masts. On this mountain, two bears stood on their hind legs opposite each other and, as it seemed to me, were fighting.
I wanted to shoot them. Throwing my gun behind my back, I went up the mountain. The path was very difficult and dangerous; every now and then I had to jump over deep abysses, climb a sheer surface as smooth as a mirror. Every minute I fell, rolled back. It took a long time until I climbed the mountain. Only now I saw that the bears were not fighting, but playing with each other. They were huge, no less than good fed bulls.
I already calculated the cost of the fur, but exactly at that moment when I took aim, right leg mine slipped and I fell on my back. As a result of the strong blow, I lost consciousness for a quarter of an hour. When I woke up and saw myself lying on my stomach, under a bear, I was indescribably frightened. During my unconsciousness, the bear turned me over on my stomach, grabbed me by the leather belt and was going to drag me somewhere. My head and chest were under the bear's belly, and my legs were sticking out. Taking a hunting knife carefully out of my pocket, I cut off three fingers on the animal's hind paw. The bear roared with pain, threw me and ran as fast as he could. I jumped up, grabbed my gun, shot a bullet at the bear and put it in place.
But then another trouble awaited me. My shot woke up thousands of bears who slept here on the mountain. Clubfoot climbed on me from everywhere, every minute was precious. If a happy thought did not fall on me, I would inevitably perish.
I quickly skinned a dead bear - it took me less time than it takes to skin a hare - and climbed into it. As soon as I had time to do this, the Bears surrounded me. I can’t say that I felt good in my fur coat: I felt hot and cold. First one, then another Potapych came up and sniffed me. Obviously, they took me for their brother. True, I was smaller than their height, however, some of the cubs were not taller than me. Then they began to flirt with me. I knew their habits and perfectly imitated them in everything, only I must confess that the Bears were grumbling and roaring louder than me.
Having secured their trust, I began to ponder how I could get out of this situation. I once heard from an old experienced doctor that a wound in the spinal cord causes instant death. I had no choice but to take up the knife.
After waiting for a convenient moment, I stuck a knife into the largest bear between the shoulder blades. Of course, I took a very risk, if I only missed and did not put the beast in its place, it would have torn me apart. The bear did not utter a word and immediately fell to the ground. It only remained a thousand times to repeat the same blow ... When I laid the last one, I involuntarily compared myself with Samson, who killed a thousand Philistines with one jaw.
Then I returned to the ship and asked the captain for three-quarters of the entire crew. We took off the skins and cut off the hams. This took several hours.
When we returned to England, I sent the Lord Mayor and the other lords some of the hams as a gift on behalf of Captain Phipps; some - to trading companies; the rest are mine best friends... Everyone thanked me very much, and the London magistrate also honored me with an invitation to participate in the annual gala dinner that is held at the town hall on the day of the Lord Mayor's election.
I presented all the bearskin skins to the empress of one of the northern states for fur coats to her majesty and the ranks of the highest court. Her Majesty thanked me in her own handwritten letter, which was delivered to me by the Ambassador Extraordinary. In this letter she offered me the honor of sharing the throne with her, but since I was not in the least tempted by the imperial dignity, I, in the most refined expressions, rejected this favor.
At one time there were false rumors that Captain Phipps did not come close enough to the North Pole, as he should have done. I consider it my moral duty to say a few words in defense of the captain. Our ship was on the right course; but when we loaded the skins and hams of the bears I killed, go further north with this heavy load not only did it not seem possible to the captain, but it seemed insane, since we were barely sailing against the wind that had overtaken a mass of ice. Captain Phipps was very unhappy that I had not invited him to hunt and that all the honor of the memorable day, which, by the way, he called the Day of Bearskins, belonged to me alone. He envied my fame a lot and tried in every possible way to belittle it. We often quarreled, and even now we have a bad relationship with him. For example, he claims that I am completely wrong to take credit for having managed to deceive the bears. He assures that he would not need to dress up in a bearskin, since the bears would have taken him for their brother anyway.
Of course, no well-mannered person would argue about such a sensitive issue with anyone, and especially with a noble peer.

Ninth adventure

From England, with Captain Hamilton, I went to East India. At that time I had a wonderful pointing dog with a rare instinct. For no amount of money, I would not part with her.
One day, when we were at sea, at a distance of three hundred miles from land, I noticed that my dog was very uneasy. At first, I did not attach any importance to this. An hour passed, and the dog became even more worried. I drew the attention of the captain and officers to this and began to assure them that the coast was close, as my dog smells game.
Everyone began to laugh at me, but I stood my ground and continued to prove that my instinct cannot deceive my dog.
Everyone began to argue and prove the opposite. After waiting for a convenient moment, I solemnly declared that I trusted my Trey's instinct more than my own eyes and the eyes of the entire crew, and offered the captain a bet for a hundred guineas that in half an hour we would shoot game. The good-natured captain laughed and asked the doctor to sample my pulse. The doctor found I was perfectly healthy.
Then they spoke in an undertone, but I could almost hear what they whispered about.
“His head is out of order,” said the captain. “It's not fair to accept his wager.
- I do not agree with you, - the doctor objected, - he is completely healthy, only he trusts the instinct of his dog more than the experience of all our officers. Of course he will lose the bet; he needs to be punished, he deserves it.
“It's not fair to accept such a bet,” the captain continued. I will do as you say, but I will return the money to him when I win.
Trey did not leave his place, and it was clear from him that he was somewhere close to smelling game. Then I once again offered a bet, and we shook hands.
Less than a few minutes later, the sailors who were fishing in a large boat pulled out a huge shark. Slit the belly of the fish, and what then? There were twelve live partridges. The poor things were locked up for so long that one partridge laid eggs and hatched one chick. We gave this chicken to the care of a cat that had just lambed. The cat fell in love with the new cub no less than her kittens and was always very worried when the old partridge flew away and did not return for a long time. During the entire journey, no game was transferred at the captain's table. Now one partridge, then another sat on eggs and incubated chickens. My faithful Trey, who won me a hundred guineas bet, ate bones every day, and sometimes got a whole bird

Tenth adventure(My second trip to the moon)

I have already told you about my trip to the moon. Then I set off, as you may remember, in search of my hatchet. But I happened to get to the moon a second time. This time I traveled in great comfort; stayed on the moon for a long time and managed to learn a lot. I will try to tell you about everything I saw with the smallest details.
One of my distant relatives got it into his head that somewhere there must certainly live people who are similar in height and appearance to those whom Gulliver talks about in his famous journey.
Here's to open this new country my relative decided to take a trip and invited me along. Gulliver's stories always seemed like a fairy tale to me, but since a relative made me his heir, I considered it inconvenient to refuse his invitation.
Our voyage to the Pacific Ocean was quite safe. If it is worth mentioning anything from what we have seen, then it is only about flying fish, which either danced a minuet in the air, then circled in a waltz, then threw out various intricate pirouettes.
On the eighteenth day of the journey, near the island of Tahiti, a hurricane suddenly swooped down on us and lifted our ship into the air for almost a thousand miles. For some time the ship was stationary. Then a fresh breeze blew up the sails and carried us quickly. For six weeks we flew above the clouds. At the end of the sixth week, we saw a large island, from which some kind of flickering light was coming. The island had a convenient harbor; we went in there, dropped anchor and went ashore. Below us, another land was visible with cities, trees, mountains, rivers, seas, etc. In all likelihood, this was the land we had abandoned.
The island we landed on turned out to be the Moon. Here we saw huge creatures riding on vultures. Each vulture had three heads. These birds were so great that the distance between the wings was six times the longest rope of our ship. On these birds, the inhabitants of the moon ride on horseback, like people on horseback.
When we got to the moon, their king was at war with the sun. He invited me to join his army, but I refused this honor.
Everything on the moon amazed us with its colossal size, for example, the housefly was the size of our sheep.
The radish is the favorite weapon of the inhabitants of the moon. They make darts from it and use them to fight in war. Those injured by the radish die immediately. The warriors' shields are made of giant mushrooms. When radish season is over, fight with asparagus stalks.
Once here I met the inhabitants of the constellation Canis, these famous traders. They trade extensively with the Moon. Their faces are like those of bulldogs. Eyes without lids, located on both sides of the tip of the nose, or rather, under the nostrils. When they go to bed, they cover them with their tongue. They are tall, at least twenty feet tall.
The inhabitants of the moon are at least thirty-six feet. Familiar with the use of fire, they cook food on it, just like we do. They call themselves a little strange: not people, but "food makers."
However, they spend very little time on food. When they feel hungry, they open the small doors on the left side of the abdomen and put the whole meal there at once, after which the doors close again. They dine once a month, that is, no more than twelve times a year. I think many of our gluttons and gourmets can envy such moderation in food.
The joys of love are completely unknown on the moon. All people there are same-sex.
Everything they grow on trees, which differ from each other both in fruit and in leaves. The trees that people grow on are much more beautiful than. other. They have large, straight branches and flesh-colored leaves. The fruits of these trees, nuts, are very hard-shelled, at least six feet in size. When the fruits are ripe (this can be recognized by the color of the fruit), they are carefully picked and stored for as long as they see fit. If they want to remove the fruit from the nut, then they throw it into a large cauldron of boiling water; after a few hours, the shell breaks, and a living creature is born. Each of the lunar people appears with a specific profession. From one shell comes a soldier, from another - a philosopher, from a third - a lawyer, from a fourth - a peasant, etc. Everyone immediately begins to put into practice their theoretical knowledge.
Inhabitants of the moon do not die. Having aged, they dissolve in the air and disappear like steam.
On each hand they have one finger- They do whatever they want, and, moreover, they are much better than us, who have five fingers.
Their head is under their right armpit. When they are going to travel or to work, they usually leave their heads at home, which does not prevent, in case of need, to turn to her for advice, regardless of distance.
When the local aristocrats want to know what other people are doing and how they live, they do not need to leave the house. They calmly send their heads. Completely incognito, the head walks everywhere, listens, collects information and, at the first request, returns to its owner.
Grape fruits on the moon are like two peas in a pod, similar to our city. I'm sure when the wind picks up on the moon and knocks down the grapes, it rolls down to Earth in the form of hail. I think that wine merchants have known about these grape berries for a long time. At least, I have more than once happened to buy a wine that, both in taste and in appearance, resembled what I drank on the moon, and was made more from grains than from grape vines.
I almost forgot another wonderful detail. Moon dwellers use their belly like a suitcase. They hide everything there; they unlock and lock the belly at will. They have no liver, no heart, no other viscera.
They can take their eyes out and put them back in; they see them equally well, it makes no difference whether the eye remains in its place or is clamped in the hand. When they lose an eye, they buy a new one, which they see as well as their own. Eye merchants are everywhere on the moon. With fashion and an extraordinary variety of flavors, the eye trade is the most profitable. In fashion there are now brown, then green, then blue eyes.
I readily believe that all this may seem strange. But I suggest that anyone who has at least a little doubt about what I am telling should go to the moon himself to be convinced of the veracity of my descriptions. - Page 19 - To the story of my second trip to the Moon, I want to add a story, the veracity of which is also undeniable, but whose strangeness is even more superior to the first.
Reading the book "Journey to Sicily" gave rise to the desire in me to visit Mount Etna, and I hit the road.
Dear, I have not come across anything interesting. Anyone else in my place would probably have found a lot of amazing things. To me, everything that came across on the way seemed such trifles that I don't even want to talk about it.
After spending the night in a hut at the foot of Etna, in the morning I began to climb the mountain. I decided at all costs, even at the cost of my life, to study internal structure this famous volcano.
The ascent was very difficult and lasted three hours.
The volcano was described more than once during the action. All these descriptions give a very faint idea of what is happening in reality, and therefore I will not waste time on this and will immediately move on to what happened to me.
I walked around the crater three times and found that it looked like an ordinary huge crater. I well understood that no matter how much I walked around the bush, I would not learn anything else. And then, without further thought, he jumped into the crater.
I found myself in a very hot steam bath. Red hot coals flew around me and burned mercilessly from all sides. Obviously, the force that ejected the coals could not throw me out with them, and I fell lower and lower until I found myself at the bottom of the volcano.
Here I was immediately deafened by the indescribable noise, din and crash.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Vulcan and the Cyclops in front of me.
These gentlemen, in whose existence I have long ceased to believe, live for themselves as if nothing had happened. For three weeks they had a heated argument about something. This was the reason for that terrible hum that was heard all this time on Etna and on the surface of the earth.
My appearance immediately caused peace and silence.
When I introduced myself, Vulcan hobbled over to the locker, took out a plaster and some kind of ointment, and covered all my burns with his own hands. It was probably a magic balm, because all my abrasions, bruises and burns were instantly healed.
One Cyclops brought a jug of warm sea water for washing, after which the polite owner took me to his lawful half - Mrs. Venus, who could not have been given her venerable age of several thousand years.

Now I regret two things: firstly, why didn’t I ask where you can buy a wonderful balm, or, if Vulkan himself prepares it, what recipe it is made; and, secondly, thanks to what cosmetics Mrs. Venus is so well preserved. I have several aunts who would be very grateful for these messages. With both means, a colossal deal could be done!
However, the married couple treated me very friendly, although Lady Venus always had a mocking smile and a partly compassionate expression, as if she thought: "In fact, you are pitiful to me, poor earthworm!" I was often angered by this proud condescension of the pagan goddess ...
Her husband Vulcan was a kind, honest guy. He took me to all corners of the underworld and showed me all the workshops.
From him I learned that the mountain consists of one ash, which is thrown from his stove. Vulcan also told me that he is often forced to punish his cyclops by throwing red hot coals at them, and the cyclops deftly throw these coals to the surface of the earth. “Our strife,” Vulcan continued, “sometimes last for months. Then fire, sparks, stones, lava appear from the crater. You people call all these phenomena eruptions. Vesuvius is also one of my workshops; there is a special underground passage at a depth of at least three hundred and fifty miles, under the seabed. People also call the strife that happens in that workshop eruptions. "
I stayed in the bowels of the earth for several days. I tirelessly studied the pursuits and the extraordinary lifestyle of Vulcan and the Cyclops. Little by little I began to get used to the terrible heat inside the earth. The attention with which Vulcan surrounded me aroused the enmity and envy of his courtiers. Everyone tried to denigrate and slander me in his eyes. And once, without saying a word, Vulcan grabbed my hand and dragged me into some unknown room. There he lifted me over what looked like a well and said:
“Go, ungrateful mortal, to the world you came from!
With these words, he released my hand, and I flew into the abyss.
I flew down with terrifying speed; it took my breath away and finally fainted. I don't remember how long I flew; I came to myself, finding myself in a large lake. The water refreshed me and revived me. It was a clear, sunny day.
From a young age I was an excellent swimmer. No wonder I felt at home. Being in the lake felt like paradise to me compared to what I experienced. There was nothing but water around. The climate of the area in which I found myself seemed to me rather cold, in contrast to the hellish heat of the underworld.
Suddenly a huge rock appeared on the horizon, slowly moving in my direction. It was a floating ice mountain. I swam to her, chose a convenient place and climbed to the top. But, to my greatest despair, and from there I could not see the land.
Finally, when it got dark, a ship appeared, which was heading for the icy mountain, on the top of which I stood. As soon as he got closer, I screamed with all my might. They answered me in Dutch. I jumped into the sea and swam to the ship. I learned from the crew that we were in the Pacific Ocean. - Page 20 - Then everything became clear to me. Falling into the crater on Etna, I fell through the center of the globe into the Pacific Ocean. I can say that this road is much shorter than the one that goes around the world. I was the first to do this journey, and if I ever have to repeat it, I will take a closer look at what comes along the way.
Having refreshed myself, I lay down to surrender
The next morning the Dutch informed me that the purpose of their journey was new discoveries.
We followed the glorious path that Captain Cook once followed. In the morning we were at Botany Bay, where the British are exiling their criminals. This place is so rich, nature has scattered its gifts so generously that England should have built not prisons here, but colonies, and send worthy people there as a reward.
We stayed here for three days. On the fourth day after we left Botany Bay, a terrible storm broke out, which badly battered us. All the sails were torn, the masts were knocked down and broken. One of the masts fell on the box containing the compass and smashed it to smithereens.
Anyone who has traveled by sea understands well what it means to lose a compass. Without it, the sailor is at great risk.
Finally, the squall flew by, and a fresh fair wind blew our sails. We sailed for three months without stopping; passed a lot during this time. Suddenly, something strange began to happen to us, which we could not explain to ourselves: we breathed easily, felt some special vigor and uplift of the spirit; from everywhere came an extremely pleasant fragrance, and even the sea changed its color - from green to white.
Soon the land appeared. We saw a very comfortable bay and entered it. Instead of water, there was delicious milk.
We went ashore. All spicy was nothing more than a huge cheese. It would never have occurred to us, if not for the case.
We had a sailor who had a strange, irresistible physical disgust for cheese. On the beach he began to feel sick and soon fainted. Coming to his senses, he begged for the cheese to be removed. Looking around carefully, we understood everything: it turned out that the whole island was one huge circle of cheese.
The islanders eat only cheese, but what they eat during the day is replenished at night. Grapes grew throughout the island, but when they were squeezed, milk flowed, not grape juice.
The islanders are tall, more than two meters, beautiful in appearance and walk like people, despite the fact that they have three legs. They have one hand, and when they switch to mature age, they have a horn melting on their foreheads, which they use very skillfully. The islanders walk, run on the surface of their milk harbor as calmly as we do on land or meadow.
On this island-cheese a lot of rye grew with ears in the form of a huge fleshy mushroom, where baked bread lay, which you could take and eat.
We walked a lot on this wonderful island and found seven rivers of milk and two of beer on it.
On the sixteenth day of the journey, we came to the opposite side of the island. Here we stumbled upon the vast plains of moldy cheese so highly prized by connoisseurs. Instead of cheese worms, as one would expect, these vast plains were home to excellent fruit trees: peaches, apricots, and many others completely unknown to us.
All these trees amazed us with their size. There were many bird nests on them. We were struck by the huge nest of the gigantic eagle, which was no less than the roof of St. Paul in London, It was skillfully woven from several huge trees. In it lay at least - I say this without any exaggeration - five hundred eggs, each egg was the size of twelve-bucket barrel.
After much work and effort, we broke one egg and found a chick there, which was more than twenty adult kites.
At the same moment, an eagle flew in, grabbed the captain and lifted him up a whole mile. Striking him in the air several times with its wings, the bird threw the captain into the sea.
All the Dutch swim like rats, and our captain soon swam ashore. We all returned to the ship.
We went to the harbor by a different road, where, to our surprise, we found a lot of new, interesting and unseen by us. So, we shot two wild bulls with one horn on the forehead between the eyes.
Then we very much regretted it, as we learned that the islanders skillfully tame the bulls, which walk well both in harness and under saddle. The meat of these bulls is tasty and nutritious, but the people, as I said, eat only milk and cheese; meat food is not known here at all.
There were two days' journey to the harbor. We walked along the edge of the forest. In one place we saw three hanged men hanging from the branches of a tall tree. I learned that they had been hanged for lying shamelessly upon returning from a trip, describing places they had not seen and adventures that had not happened.
I found that they were treated fairly: every traveler must, of course, be truthful.
Returning to the ship, we weighed anchor and parted with this wonderful country.
When we left the harbor, the huge trees growing along the shore bowed twice before us to the ground.
For three days we rushed along the waves, not knowing where we were. Suddenly we noticed that the water in the sea became completely black. - Page 21 - Some of us decided to try this ink water and - oh, a miracle! - it turned out that this is not water, but wonderful wine. Everyone began to draw and drink this water. More supervision was needed to keep the sailors from getting drunk. Alas! well-being did not last long. Our ship was soon surrounded by whales and other sea monsters. One was so large that even through a telescope it was impossible to judge its size. Unfortunately, we noticed this sea monster when it was already close to us. In one gulp it swallowed our ship with all the masts and sails. Carried away by the current, the ship, which was far from a toy, slipped right into the stomach and stopped motionless. The air was stifling and unpleasant.
We found anchors, ropes, boats, barges, and many ships swallowed up like us. It was terribly dark; without torches it was impossible to take a step. The sun, moon and stars ceased to exist for us.
Every day we had the same ebb and flow. When the animal swallowed water, there was a high tide, and when the water left the body, an ebb tide came, and all ships ran aground. For one sip, according to a rough estimate, the animal usually sucked in more ox than in the whole of Lake Geneva.
On the second day of our stay in this kingdom of eternal night at low tide, the captain and some of the officers went on reconnaissance. We took torches with us, of course. On the way, we met about ten thousand people of different nationalities, who gathered for a meeting to decide how to get out of captivity. Many of them have been here for several years.
The minute the chairman opened the meeting, the damned animal began to drink. The water came quickly; we barely made it to our ships, and some made it by swimming.
A few hours later, when the tide fell again, our meeting resumed. This time I was elected chairman. I suggested taking the two largest masts, tying them tightly with the ends, and at the moment when the animal opens its mouth, stick a spacer in it.
Everyone approved my proposal; I took one hundred of the strongest sailors as my assistant and immediately set to work.
As soon as the masts were tied, the animal yawned. We immediately thrust a spacer into his mouth; one end of it rested against the upper palate, and the other against the lower jaw.
The water, freely pouring into the stomach, quickly rose, and we all finally swam out into the light of God. After a two-week stay in eternal darkness, daylight began to inexpressibly caress our tired eyes and delight our hearts. When we looked around, it turned out that a whole fleet of thirty-five ships sailed out of the animal's stomach with us.
We left our masts in the mouth of the monster to warn other sailors from the sad fate of falling into this terrible confinement, where eternal darkness reigns and where unfortunate prisoners suffer from a lack of fresh water.
We really wanted to know where we are. Finally, I determined that we are in the Caspian Sea. However, it was completely incomprehensible how we got into it, because this lake is surrounded on all sides by continents and does not communicate with other waters. But one of the inhabitants of the island-cheese, whom I took with me, explained it to us very simply. In his opinion, the monster, in whose stomach we stayed for so long, brought us to the Caspian Sea through some underground strait.
Whatever it was, but it's good that we got out to freedom. Now all our efforts were aimed at getting to the ground as soon as possible.
I was the first to jump ashore, but as soon as I stepped, I immediately ran into a huge bear.
“Aha! buddy, I thought, you came in handy. Grabbing him by both paws in greeting, I began to squeeze them hard. The bear roared desperately, but I was not embarrassed and held him by the paws until he died of hunger. By this, I inspired the respect of all the other bears, who from that time did not dare to come across to me on the road.
From here I went to Petersburg. Here, an old friend of mine gave me a very valuable dog, born from that dog, which, as I have already told, gave birth to puppies while chasing a hare.
To my greatest chagrin, this dog did not live with me for long. She was somehow shot down while hunting by an awkward hunter. From her skin, I ordered to sew myself a vest. When I put it on to hunt, he pulled me to where the game was. As soon as I approached her for a shot, at the same moment a button came off the vest and flew to where the animal or bird was hiding. The trigger of my gun was always cocked, I fired, as everyone knows, without a miss, so no game escaped my shot. Now there are only three buttons left on the vest, but when the hunt starts, my jacket will be adorned with two rows of new buttons. Visit me then, and - believe me! - you will not be bored. However, gentlemen, today let me say goodbye and wish you a pleasant sleep!

A little old man sitting by the fireplace, telling stories, absurd and incredibly interesting, very funny and "truthful" ... It seems that a little time will pass, and the reader himself will decide that it is possible to pull himself out of the swamp, grabbing his hair, and turn the wolf inside out , find half of the horse who drinks tons of water and cannot quench their thirst in any way.

Familiar plots, isn't it? Everyone has heard of Baron Munchausen. Even people who don't get along well with fine literature, thanks to the cinema, will be able to list a couple of fantastic stories about him right off the bat. Another question: "Who wrote the tale" The Adventures of Baron Munchausen "? Alas, the name of Rudolf Raspe is not known to everyone. And is he the real character creator? Literary critics still find the strength to argue on this topic. However, first things first.

Who wrote The Adventures of Baron Munchausen?

The future writer was born in 1736. His father was an official and part-time miner, as well as an ardent lover of minerals. This explained why Raspe spent his early years near the mines. He soon received his basic education, which he continued at the University of Göttingen. At first he was occupied with the law, and then the natural sciences took over. Thus, nothing indicated his future hobby - philology, and did not foreshadow that he would be the one who wrote The Adventures of Baron Munchausen.

Further years

Upon returning to hometown he chooses the activity of a clerk, and then works as a secretary in the library. As a publisher, Raspe made his debut in 1764, offering the world the works of Leibniz, which, incidentally, were dedicated to the future prototype of "Adventures". Around the same time, he wrote the novel Hermine and Gunilda, became a professor and received the position of caretaker of an antique cabinet. Travels through Westphalia in search of old manuscripts, and then rare things for a collection (alas, not his own). The latter was entrusted to Raspe taking into account his solid authority and experience. And, as it turned out, in vain! The one who wrote "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen" was not a very wealthy person, even a poor one, which forced him to commit a crime and sell part of the collection. However, Raspe managed to avoid punishment, but how this happened is difficult to say. They say that those who came to arrest the man listened and, fascinated by his gift of a storyteller, allowed him to flee. This is not surprising, because they ran into Raspe himself - the one who wrote "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen"! How could it be otherwise?

The appearance of a fairy tale

The stories, twists and turns associated with the publication of this tale, in fact, turn out to be no less interesting than the adventures of its protagonist. In 1781, the first stories about a cheerful and all-powerful old man are found in the "Guide for Merry People". It was not known who wrote The Adventures of Baron Munchausen. The author saw fit to remain in the shadows. It was these stories that Raspe took as the basis for his own work, which was united by the figure of the narrator, had integrity and completeness (in contrast to the previous version). Fairy tales were written in English language, and the situations in which the main character acted had a purely English flavor, were associated with the sea. The book itself was conceived as a kind of edification directed against lies.

Then the tale was translated into German (this was done by the poet Gottfried Burger), supplementing and changing the previous text. Moreover, the edits were so significant that in serious academic publications in the list of those who wrote "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen" there are two names - Raspe and Burger.

Prototype

The cheerful baron had a real prototype. His name, like the literary character, was Munchausen. By the way, the problem of transferring this one remained unresolved. introduced the version "Munchausen" into use, but in modern editions the letter "g" was added to the hero's surname.

The real baron, already at a venerable age, loved to talk about his hunting adventures in Russia. The listeners recalled that at such moments the narrator's face became animated, he himself began to gesticulate, after which incredible stories could be heard from this truthful person. They began to gain popularity and even appear in print. Of course, the necessary amount of anonymity was maintained, but people who knew the baron closely understood who the prototype of these lovely stories was.

Last years and death

In 1794, the writer tries to lay a mine in Ireland, but death prevented these plans from being realized. The importance of Raspe for the further development of literature is great. In addition to the invention of the character, which has already become a classic, almost anew (taking into account all the details of creating a fairy tale, which were mentioned above), Raspe drew the attention of his contemporaries to ancient Germanic poetry. He was also one of the first to feel that Songs of Ossian was a forgery, although he did not deny their cultural significance.

A little old man with a big nose sits by the fireplace and talks about his incredible adventures, convincing listeners that these stories are true.

While in Russia in winter, the baron fell asleep right in the open field, tying his horse to a small post. Waking up, M. saw that he was in the middle of the town, and the horse was tied to a cross on the bell tower - during the night the snow that had completely covered the city melted, and the small column turned out to be the snow-covered top of the bell tower. Having shot the bridle in half, the baron lowered his horse. Traveling no longer on horseback, but in a sleigh, the baron met a wolf. From fear M. fell to the bottom of the sleigh and closed his eyes. The wolf jumped over the passenger and ate the back of the horse. Under the blows of the whip, the beast rushed forward, squeezed out the front of the horse and harnessed to the harness. Three hours later, M. rode into St. Petersburg on a sleigh, which was harnessed by a ferocious wolf.

Seeing a flock of wild ducks on the pond near the house, the baron rushed with a gun from the house. M. hit his head on the door - sparks fell from his eyes. Having already aimed at the duck, the baron realized that he had not brought the flint with him, but that did not stop him: he set fire to the gunpowder with sparks from his own eye, hitting it with his fist. M. was not at a loss during another hunt, when he came across a lake full of ducks, when he no longer had bullets: the baron strung ducks on a string, luring the birds with a piece of slippery bacon. The duck beads took off and carried the hunter all the way to the house; curling a couple of ducks' necks, the baron descended unharmed into the chimney of his own kitchen. The absence of bullets did not spoil the next hunt: M. loaded the gun with a ramrod and strung 7 partridges on it with one shot, and the birds were immediately fried on a hot rod. In order not to spoil the skin of the magnificent fox, the baron shot at her with a long needle. Having nailed the animal to a tree, M. began to whip it with a whip so hard that the fox jumped out of its fur coat and ran away naked.

And having shot at a pig walking in the woods with his son, the baron shot off the pig's tail. The blind pig could not go further, having lost its guide (it held on to the tail of the cub, which led it along the paths); M. grabbed the tail and took the pig straight to his kitchen. Soon the wild boar also went there: chasing M., the boar got stuck with its fangs in a tree; the baron only had to tie him up and take him home. Another time M. loaded the gun with a cherry bone, not wanting to let the handsome deer go - however, the animal ran away anyway. A year later, our hunter met the same deer, between the antlers of which was a magnificent cherry tree. After killing a deer, M. received both roast and compote at once. When the wolf attacked him again, the baron thrust his fist deeper into the wolf's mouth and turned the predator inside out. The wolf fell down dead; his fur made a great jacket.

The mad dog bit the baron's fur coat; she also got mad and tore all the clothes in the closet. Only after the shot did the fur coat allow itself to be tied up and hung in a separate cabinet.

Another wonderful animal was caught while hunting with a dog: M. chased a hare for 3 days before he could shoot him. It turned out that the animal has 8 legs (4 on the stomach and 4 on the back). After this chase, the dog died. Grieving, the baron ordered a jacket to be sewn from her skin. The new outfit turned out to be not easy: it smells prey and pulls in the direction of a wolf or a hare, which it strives to kill with shooting buttons.

While in Lithuania, the Baron bridled a rabid horse. Wanting to show off in front of the ladies, M. flew into the dining room on it and gently pranced on the table, without breaking anything. For such grace, the baron received a horse as a gift. Perhaps, on this very horse, the baron burst into the Turkish fortress when the Turks were already closing the gates - and cut off the rear half of the horse M. When the horse decided to drink water from the fountain, liquid poured out of it. Having caught the back half in the meadow, the doctor sewed both parts with laurel twigs, from which a gazebo soon grew. And in order to scout the number of Turkish cannons, the baron jumped on the cannonball launched into their camp. The brave man returned to his own on the counter core. Having got into the swamp together with the horse, M. risked drowning, but he grabbed the pigtail of his wig more tightly and pulled them both out.

When the baron was nevertheless captured by the Turks, he was appointed a bee shepherd. Fighting a bee away from 2 bears, M. threw a silver hatchet at the robbers - so hard that he threw it on the moon. Along a long stem of chickpeas grown there and then, the shepherd climbed to the moon and found his weapon on a pile of rotten straw. The sun dried the peas, so I had to go back down the rope, woven from rotten straw, periodically cutting it and tying it to its own end. But 3-4 miles before the Earth, the rope broke and M. fell, breaking through a large hole, from which he climbed the steps dug out with his nails. And the bears got what they deserved: the baron caught the clubfoot on a shaft greased with honey, into which he hammered a nail behind the strung bear. The Sultan laughed until he fell over this idea.

Having gone home from captivity, M. on a narrow path could not miss the oncoming crew. I had to take the carriage on my shoulders, and the horses under my arms, and in two passes carry my belongings through another carriage. The baron's coachman diligently blew the horn, but could not blow out a single sound. In the hotel, the horn thawed out and thawed sounds poured out of it.

When the baron sailed off the coast of India, the hurricane tore out several thousand trees on the island and carried them to the clouds. When the storm was over, the trees fell into place and took root — all but one, from which two peasants were gathering cucumbers (the only food for the natives). Fat peasants tipped the tree and it fell on the king, crushing him. The inhabitants of the island were terribly happy and offered the crown to M., but he refused because he did not like cucumbers. After the storm, the ship arrived in Ceylon. While hunting with the governor's son, the traveler got lost and came across a huge lion. The baron started to run, but a crocodile had already crept up behind. M. fell to the ground; The lion that jumped on him landed right in the mouth of the crocodile. The hunter cut off the lion's head and hammered it into the crocodile's mouth so deeply that he suffocated. The governor's son could only congratulate his friend on the victory.

Then M. went to America. On the way, the ship came across an underwater rock. From a strong blow, one of the sailors flew into the sea, but grabbed the beak of the heron and so stayed on the water until rescued, and the baron's head fell into his own stomach (for several months he got it out of there by the hair). The rock turned out to be a whale that woke up and, in a fit of rage, dragged the ship by the anchor across the sea all day. On the way back, the crew found a corpse giant fish and cut off the head. In the hole of the rotten tooth the sailors found their anchor along with the chain. Suddenly water gushed into the hole, but M. plugged the hole with his own butt and saved everyone from death.

Swimming in the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Italy, the baron was swallowed by a fish - or rather, he himself shrank into a ball and rushed straight into the open mouth, so as not to be torn apart. From his stomp and fuss, the fish screamed and stuck its muzzle out of the water. The sailors killed her with a harpoon and hacked her with an ax, freeing the prisoner, who greeted them with a kind bow.

The ship was sailing to Turkey. The Sultan invited M. to dinner and entrusted the business in Egypt. On the way there M. met a small runner with weights on his feet, a man with a keen ear, a well-aimed hunter, a strong man and a hero, who was spinning the blades of a mill with air from his nostrils. The baron took these guys as his servants. A week later, the baron returned to Turkey. During lunch, the Sultan took out a bottle of good wine from the secret cabinet especially for the dear guest, but M. said that the Chinese bogdyhan had better wine. To this the Sultan replied that if, as proof, the baron does not deliver a bottle of this very wine by 4 o'clock in the afternoon, the braggart will be beheaded. As a reward, M. demanded as much gold as 1 person could carry at a time. With the help of new servants, the baron got wine, and the strong man brought out all the Sultan's gold. With full sail M. hastened to go to sea.

The entire military fleet of the Sultan set off in pursuit. A servant with powerful nostrils sent the fleet back to the harbor, and drove his ship all the way to Italy. M. healed as a rich man, but quiet life was not for him. The baron rushed to the war between the British and the Spaniards, and even made his way into the besieged English fortress of Gibraltar. On M.'s advice, the British directed the muzzle of their cannon exactly towards the muzzle of the Spanish cannon, as a result of which the cannonballs collided and both flew towards the Spaniards, with the Spanish cannonball breaking through the roof of one shack and stuck in the old woman's throat. Her husband brought her a snuff of tobacco, she sneezed and the kernel flew out. In gratitude for the practical advice, the general wanted to make M. a colonel, but he refused. Disguised as a Spanish priest, the baron crept into the enemy camp and threw the cannons off the coast, and burned wooden vehicles. The Spanish army fled in horror, deciding that they had been visited by an innumerable horde of English that night.

Having settled in London, M. once fell asleep in the mouth of an old cannon, where he hid from the heat. But the gunner fired in honor of the victory over the Spaniards, and the baron hit his head in a haystack. For 3 months he stuck out of a haystack, losing consciousness. in the fall, when the workers were stirring the haystack with a pitchfork, M. woke up, fell on the owner's head and broke his neck, which made everyone happy.

The famous traveler Finne invited the baron on an expedition to the North Pole, where M. was attacked polar bear... The baron dodged and cut off 3 toes on the hind leg of the beast, he released him and was shot. Several thousand bears surrounded the traveler, but he pulled on the skin of the killed bear and killed all the bears with a knife to the back of the head. The skins of the killed animals were torn off, and the carcasses were cut into hams.

In England, M. had already given up traveling, but his wealthy relative wanted to see the giants. In search of giants, the expedition sailed across the Southern Ocean, but the storm lifted the ship behind the clouds, where after a long "voyage" the ship moored to the Moon. The travelers were surrounded by huge monsters on three-headed eagles (radish instead of weapons, fly agaric shields; the stomach is like a suitcase, only 1 finger on the hand, the head can be removed, and the eyes can be removed and changed; new inhabitants grow on trees like nuts, and when they get old, they melt into air).

And this voyage was not the last. On a half-wrecked Dutch ship M. sailed on the sea, which suddenly turned white - it was milk. The ship moored to an island of excellent Dutch cheese, on which even grape juice was milk, and the rivers were not only milk, but also beer. Locals were three-legged, and the birds built huge nests. For a lie, travelers were severely punished here, with which M. could not disagree, for he could not stand a lie. As his ship sailed away, the trees bowed twice after him. Wandering the seas without a compass, sailors met various sea monsters. One fish, to quench its thirst, swallowed the ship. Her belly was literally stuffed with ships; when the water subsided, M. together with the captain went for a walk and met many sailors from all over the world. At the suggestion of the baron, the two highest masts were put upright in the mouth of the fish, so the ships were able to swim out - and found themselves in the Caspian Sea. M. hurried to the shore, saying that he had enough adventures.

But as soon as M. got out of the boat, a bear attacked him. The Baron gripped his front paws so tightly that he roared in pain. M. kept the clubfoot for 3 days and 3 nights, until he died of hunger, since he could not suck his paw. Since then, not a single bear dared to attack the resourceful baron.