The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was

Long ago a father had two sons. The elder was quick and clever, and he could turn his hand to anything. The younger was slow and dull, and he could neither learn anything nor understand it. At night the family sat around the fire and told scary stories. When a story grew too frightening, the listeners would say, "Oh, it makes me shudder!" The younger boy sat in his corner and listened. He could not understand what they meant by that. He thought, "Shudder? Shudder? I never shudder at all. This must be one more skill that I know nothing about."

One day his father said to him, "Listen, my boy. You are growing tall and strong, and you must learn a trade to earn your bread. Look at your brother, how hard he works. You cannot even earn your own salt." The boy answered, "Father, I am quite willing to learn something. If it can be managed, what I should like to learn most is how to shudder. I know nothing about that at all." His brother laughed and thought, "What a blockhead my brother is! He will never come to anything as long as he lives." The father sighed. "You will learn to shudder soon enough," he said, "but you will not earn your bread with it."

Not long after, the sexton came to visit the house. The father poured out all his troubles to him and told him how slow his younger son was, how the boy knew nothing and learned nothing. "When I asked him how he meant to earn his bread," said the father, "he answered that he wanted to learn to shudder!" "If that is all," said the sexton, "he can learn it from me. Send him over, and I shall soon polish him up." The father was glad enough, and he let the sexton take the boy away. The sexton gave him the job of ringing the church bell.

After a day or two, the sexton woke the boy at midnight. "Get up," he said, "climb the tower and ring the bell. Then you will find out what shuddering is." But the sexton went up the tower first, secretly, and hid himself. When the boy reached the top, he saw a white figure standing on the stairs. "Who is there?" he called. The figure gave no answer and did not move. "Answer me," the boy called again, "or take yourself off. You have no business here at night." Still the figure stood like a stone.

A second time the boy called out, and then a third. "If you are an honest man, speak," he cried, "or I will throw you down the stairs!" The figure said nothing at all. "Then you are a rogue," said the boy, and he ran at it and pushed it down the stairs. It fell down ten steps and lay still in a corner. Then he rang the bell, went home, and slept without a word to anyone. In the morning the sexton's wife found her husband lying in the corner, groaning, with a broken leg. She screamed and ran straight to the boy's father.

"Your boy has done a dreadful thing!" she cried. "He threw my husband down the stairs and broke his leg. Take the good-for-nothing out of our house!" The father was horrified and scolded the boy. "What wicked tricks are these? The devil himself must have put them into your head!" The boy answered, "Father, only listen. I am quite innocent. He stood there in the night like a man who means mischief. I asked him three times to speak or be gone. When he would not, I took him for a rogue and pushed him. I did not know it was he." The father sighed. "I have nothing but sorrow from you," he said. "Take these fifty silver coins and go into the wide world. But tell nobody who your father is, for I am ashamed of you." The boy answered, "Yes, Father, and gladly. When day breaks I will go out and learn how to shudder. Then at least I shall have one skill to keep me."

So when day broke, the boy put his fifty silver coins in his pocket and set off along the high road. As he walked he said over and over to himself, "If I could only shudder! If I could only shudder!" A man came up behind him and heard this strange talk. When they had walked a little further, the man pointed to a lonely tree and said, "Do you see that tree? Seven men there have married the ropemaker's daughter, and now they are learning to fly. Sit down under it and wait until night comes, and you will soon learn to shudder." "If that is all there is to it," answered the boy, "it is easily done. And if I learn to shudder that quickly, my fifty coins are yours. Just come back for them early in the morning."

So the boy went to the gallows tree, sat down beneath it, and waited for evening. He was cold, so he made himself a fire. But at midnight the wind blew so sharply that the fire gave him no warmth at all. The wind set the hanged men knocking together and swinging to and fro. The boy thought, "Here am I shivering by a fire, and up there those poor fellows must be freezing and suffering." He felt sorry for them. He set up a ladder, climbed up, untied them one after another, and brought all seven down to the ground.

Then he stirred his fire and blew it up, and set the dead men round it to warm themselves. But they sat there without moving, and soon the fire caught their clothes. "Take care," said the boy, "or I shall hang you up again." The dead men heard nothing and said nothing, and let their old rags go on burning. That made the boy angry. "If you will not take care, I cannot help you," he said. "I am not going to be burnt along with you." So he hung them up again, one after another, and lay down by his fire and slept. In the morning the man came for his coins. "Well, do you know how to shudder now?" "No," answered the boy. "How was I to find out? Those fellows up there never opened their mouths, and they were so stupid that they let their few old rags burn." The man shook his head and went away, saying, "I never met the like of him before."

The boy went on his way, and once more he began muttering to himself, "Ah, if I could only shudder! Ah, if I could only shudder!" A carter came striding along behind him and heard it. "Who are you?" he asked. "I do not know," said the boy. "Where do you come from?" "I do not know that either." "Who is your father?" "That I may not tell you." "Then what is it you keep muttering about?" "Ah," said the boy, "I do so wish I could shudder, and nobody can teach me how." "Enough of your foolish talk," said the carter. "Come along with me, and I shall see about a place for you." So the boy went with him, and in the evening they came to an inn. As he stepped through the door, the boy said it again, quite loudly, "If I could only shudder!"

The landlord heard him and laughed. "If that is what you want, there is a fine chance for you here." "Oh, be quiet," said the landlady. "Too many curious people have lost their lives over that business. It would be a pity if eyes as fine as these never saw daylight again." But the boy gave the landlord no peace until the man told him everything. Not far away stood a haunted castle. Anyone who could keep watch in it for three nights would learn what shuddering was, quite easily. The King had promised his daughter to whoever would try it, and she was the loveliest maiden the sun ever shone on. Great treasures lay in the castle too, guarded by evil spirits. Once set free, those treasures would make a poor man rich enough. Plenty of men had gone in already, but not one had ever come out again.

The next morning the boy went to the King. "If you will allow me," he said, "I will keep watch three nights in the haunted castle." The King looked at him, and because he liked the look of him, he said, "You may ask for three things to take into the castle with you, but they must be things without life." Then the boy said, "I ask for this: a fire, a turning lathe, and a cutting-board, with a knife." The King had these carried into the castle for him during the day.

As night came on, the boy went up, made himself a bright fire in one of the rooms, and set the cutting-board and knife beside it. Then he sat down at the lathe and said, "Ah, if I could only shudder, but I shall not learn it here either." Towards midnight he went to poke his fire. As he was blowing at it, a voice cried out suddenly from one corner, "Miaow, miaow! How cold we are!" "You simpletons," he cried, "what are you crying about? If you are cold, come and sit by the fire and warm yourselves." No sooner had he spoken than two great black cats sprang out and sat down on either side of him, glaring at him with their fiery eyes.

When they had warmed themselves a while, the cats said, "Comrade, shall we have a game of cards?" "Why not?" said the boy. "But show me your paws first." So they held out their claws, and the boy saw that their nails were long and sharp. "My word," said he, "what long nails you have! Wait, I must trim them for you first." With that he seized the cats, laid them on the cutting-board, and made an end of them. Then he threw them out into the water. But he had hardly sat down again when black cats and black dogs came out of every hole and corner, dragging red-hot chains behind them. They howled horribly, they jumped on his fire, and they tore it apart. At last the boy lost patience. He seized his knife and cried, "Off with you, vermin!" Some ran away, and the rest he killed and threw into the fish-pond.

Back at the hearth he fanned the embers up again and warmed himself. As he sat there, sleep began to creep over him. He looked around and found a great bed standing in the corner. "The very thing for me," said he, and climbed into it. But just as he was closing his eyes, the bed began to move by itself and carried him all through the castle. "Good," said he. "Faster, if you please." The bed rolled on as though six horses were pulling it, up and down, over thresholds and up the stairs. Then all at once it turned over and lay on top of him like a mountain. But the boy flung the quilts and pillows into the air, climbed out, and said, "Anyone who likes may ride that bed now." He lay down by his fire and slept until daylight. In the morning the King came and found him stretched out on the floor. "What a pity," said the King. "He was a handsome fellow." Hearing this, the boy sat up. "Things have not gone so far as that." The King was astonished and very glad, and asked how the night had gone. "Very well indeed," said the boy. "One night is over; the other two will pass in the same way." He went back to the inn, and the landlord opened his eyes wide. "I never expected to see you alive again! Have you learned to shudder yet?" "No," said the boy. "It is all no use. If only somebody would tell me!"

The second night the boy went up to the old castle again, sat down by the fire, and began his old song once more: "If I could only shudder." At midnight there came a great noise, as of things tumbling about. At last, with a loud scream, half a man fell down the chimney and landed in front of him. "Hey!" cried the boy. "There should be another half to this. That is too little." Then the noise began again, and the other half fell down as well. The two halves joined together, and a frightful man stood before him and tried to take his bench. "That was not our bargain," said the boy. "The bench is mine." He pushed the man off with all his strength and sat down again in his own place. Then more men came dropping down, one after another. They brought nine dead men's legs and two skulls, set them up, and played at ninepins with them. The boy wanted to play too. "May I join in?" he asked. "Yes, if you have money." "Money enough," said the boy, "but your balls are not quite round." So he took the skulls, put them on his lathe, and turned them until they were round. "There, now they will roll better," said he. "Hurrah! Now the game goes merrily." He played with them and lost a little of his money. When the clock struck twelve, the whole company vanished. He lay down and fell quietly asleep. In the morning the King came and asked how the night had gone. "I have been playing ninepins," said the boy, "and I lost two small coins." "Did you not shudder, then?" "Shudder? What for?" said he. "I enjoyed myself. If only I knew what shuddering was!"

The third night he sat down on his bench again and said quite sadly, "If I could only shudder." When it grew late, six tall men came in, carrying a coffin. "Aha," said the boy, "that must be my little cousin, who died only a few days ago." He crooked his finger and called, "Come along, little cousin, come along." The men set the coffin on the ground. The boy went over, took off the lid, and there lay a dead man. He felt his face, and it was cold as ice. "Wait," said he, "I will warm you a little." He went to the fire, warmed his own hands, and laid them on the dead man's face. But the face stayed cold. So he lifted the man out, sat down by the fire with him, held him against his chest, and rubbed his arms to get the blood moving again. That did no good either. Then he thought: two people lying in one bed warm each other. So he carried the dead man to the bed, covered him over, and lay down beside him. After a little while the dead man grew warm and began to move. "There, little cousin," said the boy, "have I not warmed you?" But the dead man sat up and cried, "Now I shall strangle you!" "What!" said the boy. "Is that your thanks? Back into your coffin this minute!" He picked him up, threw him in, and pressed the lid down. The six men came back and carried the coffin away. "Shuddering is beyond me," said the boy. "In this place I shall never learn it, not if I live a hundred years."

Then a man came in who was taller than all the others and terrible to look at. He was old, though, and he had a long white beard. "You wretch," he roared, "you shall soon learn what shuddering is, for you are going to die!" "Not so fast," answered the boy. "If I am to die, I shall have some say in the matter." "I shall soon have hold of you," said the old man. "Gently, gently," said the boy. "Do not talk so big. I am as strong as you are, and perhaps stronger." "That we shall see," said the old man. "Prove the stronger, and I will let you go. Come along, and we shall put it to the test." He led the boy down dark passages to a smith's forge. There he took up an axe, and with a single blow he drove one of the anvils into the earth. "I can better that," said the boy, and he walked over to the second anvil. The old man came close to watch, and his white beard hung down over it. Then the boy swung the axe, split the anvil at a stroke, and pinned the old man's beard fast in the crack. "Now you are mine," said the boy. "It is your turn to die." He took up an iron bar and beat the old man until he groaned and begged for mercy, promising him great riches.

So the boy worked the axe free and let him go. The old man led him back into the castle, and in a cellar he showed him three chests filled with gold. "One share of this is for the poor," he said, "one share for the King, and the third share is yours." At that moment the clock struck twelve, and the spirit was gone. The boy stood in the dark. "I shall find my way out all the same," said he. He felt along the walls, found his room again, and slept there beside his fire. In the morning the King came. "Surely by now you have learned to shudder." "Not I," answered the boy. "Whatever can it be? My dead cousin paid me a visit, and a bearded fellow took me below and showed me heaps of money. Neither of them said one word about shuddering." "Then the castle is free," said the King, "and I will give you my daughter." "That is good news," said the boy, "but shuddering is still a riddle to me."

So the gold was brought up, and the wedding was held with great joy. The young king loved his wife dearly, and his days were full of happiness. But he still kept saying, "If I could only shudder — if I could only shudder." At last his wife grew angry. Her waiting-maid said, "I shall find a cure for him. He shall soon learn what shuddering is." She went out to the stream that ran through the garden and had a whole bucketful of little fish brought to her.

That night, while the young king slept, his wife drew the covers off him and emptied the bucket of cold water and fish over him, so that the little fish flopped all over his body. The cold woke him at once, and he cried out, "Oh! What is making me shudder so? What is making me shudder so, dear wife? Ah — now I know what shuddering is!" And from that day on, he knew the taste of fear and the value of care. This story teaches us a lesson: a man who fears nothing has learned nothing, and the man who knows when to be afraid is the wiser one.