Baron Munchausen fairy tale all chapters. Tale of the adventures of Baron Munchausen. Last years and death

Rudolf Erich Raspe

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen

THE MOST TRUTHFUL PERSON ON EARTH

A little old man with a long nose sits by the fireplace and talks about his adventures. His listeners laugh right in his eyes:

- Oh yes Munchausen! That's it Baron! But he doesn't even look at them.

He calmly continues to tell how he flew to the moon, how he lived among three-legged people, how he was swallowed by a huge fish, how his head was torn off.

One day a passerby was listening and listening to him and suddenly shouted:

- All this is fiction! None of this happened what you are talking about. The old man frowned and answered importantly:

“Those counts, barons, princes and sultans whom I had the honor to call my best friends always said that I was the most truthful person on earth. The people around laughed even louder.

– Munchausen is a truthful person! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!

And Munchausen, as if nothing had happened, continued to talk about how a wonderful tree grew on the deer’s head.

– A tree?.. On the head of a deer?!

- Yes. Cherry. And there are cherry trees on the tree. So juicy, sweet...

All these stories are printed here in this book. Read them and judge for yourself whether there was a more truthful man on earth than Baron Munchausen.

HORSE ON THE ROOF

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

The horse got tired and began to stumble. I really wanted to sleep. I almost fell out of the saddle from fatigue. But I looked in vain for an overnight stay: I didn’t come across a single village on the way. What was to be done?

We had to spend the night in an open field.

There are no bushes or trees around. Only a small column stuck out from under the snow.

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

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

What's happened? 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 happened. Suddenly I hear a familiar neigh. This is my horse neighing.

But where is he?

Neighing comes from somewhere above.

I raise my head - and what?

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 going on.

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

I didn’t 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 sank to the ground unnoticed.

But my poor horse remained there, above, 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 gun, aim straight and hit the bridle, because I have always been an excellent shot.

Bridle - in half.

The horse quickly descends towards me.

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

WOLF HARNESSED TO A SLED

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

In the evening I entered the forest. I was already starting to doze off when I suddenly heard the alarming neighing of a horse. I looked around and in the light of the moon I saw a terrible wolf, which, with its toothy mouth open, was running 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 crazy. The clicking of wolf teeth was heard right in my ear.

But, fortunately, the wolf did not pay any attention to me.

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

In one minute rear end my horse disappeared into his voracious mouth.

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

The wolf ate my horse deeper and deeper.

When I came to my senses, I grabbed the whip and, without wasting a minute, began to whip the insatiable beast.

He howled and rushed forward.

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

He could not escape from this harness: he was harnessed like a horse.

I continued to whip him as hard as I could.

He rushed forward and forward, dragging my sleigh behind him.

We rushed so fast that within two or three hours we galloped into St. Petersburg.

Amazed St. Petersburg residents ran out in crowds to look at the hero, who, instead of a horse, harnessed a ferocious wolf to his sleigh. I lived well in St. Petersburg.

SPARKS FROM THE EYES

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

One story was very funny.

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

One morning, going to the window, I noticed wild ducks on the pond.

I instantly grabbed the gun and ran headlong out of the house.

But in a hurry, running down the stairs, I hit my head on the door, so hard that sparks fell from my eyes.

It didn't stop me.

Should I run home for some flint?

But ducks can fly away.

I sadly lowered the gun, cursing my fate, and suddenly a brilliant idea occurred to me.

As hard as I could, I punched myself in the right eye. Of course, sparks began to fall from the eye, and at the same moment the gunpowder ignited.

Yes! The gunpowder ignited, the gun fired, and I killed ten excellent ducks with one shot.

I advise you, whenever you decide to make a fire, to extract the same sparks from your right eye.

AMAZING HUNT

However, more amusing cases have happened to me. Once I spent the whole day hunting and in the evening I came across a vast lake in a deep forest, which was teeming with wild ducks. I have never seen so many ducks in my life!

Unfortunately, I didn't have a single bullet left.

And just this evening I was waiting for my place big company friends, and I wanted to treat them to game. I am generally a hospitable and generous person. My lunches and dinners were famous throughout St. Petersburg. How will I get home without ducks?

I stood indecisive for a long time and suddenly remembered that there was a piece of lard left in my hunting bag.

The fantastic “Adventures of Baron Munchausen” is based on the stories of Baron Munchausen, who actually lived in Germany in the 18th century. He was a military man, served for some time in Russia and fought with the Turks. Returning to his estate in Germany, Munchausen soon became known as a witty storyteller who dreamed up the most incredible adventures. In 1781, some of them were printed. In 1785, the German writer E. Raspe processed them and published them..

HORSE ON THE ROOF

I went to Russia on horseback. It was winter. It was snowing.
The horse got tired and began to stumble. I really wanted to sleep. I almost fell out of the saddle from fatigue. But I looked in vain for an overnight stay: I didn’t come across a single village on the way. What was to be done? We had to spend the night in an open field.

There are no bushes or trees around. Only a small column stuck out from under the snow.
I somehow tied my cold horse to this post, and I lay down right there in the snow and fell asleep.

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

What's happened? 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 happened. Suddenly I hear a familiar neigh. This is my horse neighing. But where is he?
Neighing comes from somewhere above. I raise my head - and what?
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 happening.
Last night this entire town, with all the people and houses, was covered in deep snow, and only the top of the cross stuck out.
I didn’t 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 sank to the ground unnoticed.
But my poor horse remained there, above, 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, take aim and hit it right in the bridle, because I have always been an excellent shooter.

Bridle - in half.
The horse quickly descends towards me.

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

AMAZING HUNT

Unfortunately, I didn't have a single bullet left. And just this evening I was expecting a large group of friends to join me, and I wanted to treat them to game. I am generally a hospitable and generous person. My lunches and dinners were famous throughout St. Petersburg. How will I get home without ducks?

I stood indecisive for a long time and suddenly remembered that there was a piece of lard left in my hunting bag.
Hooray! This lard will be an excellent bait. I take it out of my bag, quickly tie it to a long and thin string and throw it into the water.
Ducks, seeing food, immediately swim to the lard. One of them greedily swallows it.

But lard is slippery and, quickly passing through the duck, pops out behind it!

Thus, the duck ends up on my string. Then the second duck swims up to the bacon, and the same thing happens to it.
Duck after duck swallows the lard and puts it on my string like beads on a string. Not even ten minutes pass before all the ducks are strung on it.
You can imagine how much fun it was for me to look at such rich booty! All I had to do was pull out the caught ducks and take them to my cook in the kitchen.
This will be a feast for my friends!
But dragging this many ducks was not so easy.

I took a few steps and was terribly tired. Suddenly - you can imagine my amazement! — the ducks flew into the air and lifted me to the clouds.
Anyone else in my place would be at a loss, but I am a brave and resourceful person. I made a rudder out of my coat and, steering the ducks, quickly flew towards the house.

But how to get down?
Very simple! My resourcefulness helped me here too. I twisted the heads of several ducks, and we began to slowly sink to the ground.
I fell right into the chimney of my own kitchen! If you had only seen how amazed my cook was when I appeared before him on the fire!

Fortunately, the cook had not yet had time to light the fire.

BLIND PIG

Yes, many amazing things have happened to me!
One day I was making my way through the thicket of a dense forest and I saw: a wild pig, still very small, was running, and behind the pig was a large pig.

I shot, but, alas, I missed.
My bullet flew right between the pig and the pig.
The piglet squealed and ran into the forest, but the pig remained rooted to the spot.
I was surprised: why doesn’t she run away from me? But as I got closer, I realized what was going on. The pig was blind and did not understand the roads.

She could walk through the forests only holding the tail of her pig.
My bullet tore off this tail. The pig ran away, and the pig, left without him, did not know where to go. She stood helplessly, holding a piece of his tail in her teeth. Then a brilliant idea occurred to me. I grabbed this tail and took the pig to my kitchen. The poor blind woman obediently trudged after me, thinking that the pig was still leading her!

Yes, I must repeat again that resourcefulness is a great thing!

HOW I CAUGHT A BOAR

Another time I came across a wild boar in the forest. It was much more difficult to deal with him. I didn't even have a gun with me.

I started to run, but he rushed after me like mad and would certainly have pierced me with his fangs if I had not hidden behind the first oak tree I came across.

The boar ran into an oak tree, and its fangs sank so deeply into the tree trunk that he could not pull them out.
- Yeah, gotcha, darling! - I said, coming out from behind the oak tree. - Wait a minute! Now you won't leave me!
And, taking a stone, I began to drive sharp fangs even deeper into the tree so that the boar could not free himself,

and then he tied him with a strong rope and, putting him on a cart, triumphantly took him to his home.

That’s why the other hunters were surprised! They could not even imagine that such a ferocious beast could be caught alive without expending a single charge.

EXTRAORDINARY DEER

However, even better miracles have happened to me. One day I was walking through the forest and treating myself to sweet, juicy cherries that I bought along the way. And suddenly there was a deer in front of me! Slender, beautiful, with huge branchy horns!

And, as luck would have it, I didn’t have a single bullet!
The deer stands and looks at me calmly, as if he knows that my gun is not loaded.
Luckily, I still had a few cherries left, so I loaded the gun with a cherry pit instead of a bullet. Yes, yes, don’t laugh, an ordinary cherry pit.
A shot rang out, but the deer only shook its head. The bone hit him on the forehead and did no harm. In an instant, he disappeared into the thicket of the forest.
I was very sorry that I missed such a beautiful animal.

A year later I was hunting in the same forest again. Of course, by that time I had completely forgotten about the cherry pit story.
Imagine my amazement when a magnificent deer jumped out of the thicket of the forest right at me, with a tall, spreading cherry tree growing between its antlers! Oh, believe me, it was very beautiful: a slender deer with a slender tree on its head!

I immediately guessed that this tree grew from that small bone that last year served as a bullet for me. This time I had no shortage of charges. I took aim, fired, and the deer fell to the ground dead.

Thus, with one shot I immediately got both the roast and the cherry compote, because the tree was covered with large, ripe cherries. I must confess that I have never tasted more delicious cherries in my entire life.

HORSE ON THE TABLE

I guess I haven’t told you anything about my horses yet?
Meanwhile, many wonderful stories happened to them and me.
It happened in Lithuania. I was visiting a friend who was passionate about horses.
And so, when he was showing the guests his best horse, of which he was especially proud, the horse broke free from the bridle, knocked over four grooms and rushed across the yard like crazy. Everyone ran away in fear.
There was not a single daredevil who would dare approach the enraged animal.
Only I was not at a loss, because, possessing amazing courage, since childhood I have been able to bridle the wildest horses.
With one leap I jumped onto the horse's ridge and instantly tamed him.

Immediately feeling mine strong hand, he submitted to me like a small child. I rode around the entire yard in triumph, and suddenly I wanted to show my art to the ladies who were sitting at the tea table.
How to do this?
Very simple! I directed my horse to the window and, like a whirlwind, flew into the dining room.

The ladies were very scared at first. But I made the horse jump onto the tea table and pranced so skillfully among the glasses and cups that I did not break a single glass or even the smallest saucer.
The ladies liked this very much; they began to laugh and clap their hands, and my friend, fascinated by my amazing dexterity, asked me to accept this magnificent horse as a gift.

I was very happy about his gift, since I was getting ready to go to war and had been looking for a horse for a long time.
An hour later I was already racing on a new horse towards Turkey, where fierce battles were going on at that time.

HALF HORSE

In battles, of course, I was distinguished by desperate courage and flew into the enemy ahead of everyone else.
Once, after a hot battle with the Turks, we captured an enemy fortress. I was the first to break into it and, having driven all the Turks out of the fortress, galloped to the well to water the hot horse.

The horse drank and could not quench his thirst. Several hours passed, and he still did not look away from the well. What a miracle! I was amazed. But suddenly a strange splashing sound was heard behind me.
I looked back and almost fell out of the saddle in surprise. It turned out that the entire back part of my horse was cut off completely and the water that he drank flowed freely behind him, without lingering in his stomach! This created a vast lake behind me. I was stunned. What kind of strangeness is this?

But then one of my soldiers galloped up to me, and the mystery was instantly explained.
When I galloped after the enemies and burst into the gates of the enemy fortress, the Turks just at that moment slammed the gates and cut off the back half of my horse. It's like they cut him in half! This hind half remained for some time near the gate, kicking and dispersing the Turks with blows of its hooves, and then galloped off into the neighboring meadow.
- She grazes there even now! - the soldier told me.
- Grazing? Can't be!
- See for yourself.
I rode on the front half of the horse towards the meadow. There I actually found the back half of the horse. She was grazing peacefully in a green clearing.

I immediately sent for a military doctor, and he, without thinking twice, sewed both halves of my horse with thin laurel twigs, since he did not have any thread on hand.

Both halves grew together perfectly, and the laurel branches took root in my horse’s body, and within a month I had a bower of laurel branches above my saddle.

Sitting in this cozy gazebo, I accomplished many amazing feats.

BETWEEN CROCODILE AND LION

When the storm ended, we raised anchor and two weeks later we safely arrived on the island of Ceylon.
The eldest son of the Ceylon governor invited me to go hunting with him.

I agreed with great pleasure. We went to the nearest forest. The heat was terrible, and I must admit that, out of habit, I was very soon tired.
And the governor’s son, a strong young man, felt great in this heat. He lived in Ceylon since childhood. The Ceylon sun was nothing to him, and he walked briskly along the hot sands.
I fell behind him and soon got lost in the thicket of an unfamiliar forest.

I'm walking and hear a rustling sound. I look around: in front of me is a huge lion, which has opened its mouth and wants to tear me to pieces. What to do here? My gun was loaded with small shot, which would not even kill a partridge. I fired, but the shot only irritated the ferocious beast, and he attacked me with redoubled fury.

What to do? What to do?
Behind is a lion, in front is a crocodile, to the left is a lake, to the right is a swamp infested with poisonous snakes.
In mortal fear, I fell on the grass and, closing my eyes, prepared for inevitable death. And suddenly something seemed to roll and crash over my head. I opened my eyes slightly and saw an amazing sight that brought me great joy: it turns out that the lion, rushing at me at the moment when I was falling to the ground, flew over me and fell straight into the mouth of the crocodile!
The head of one monster was in the throat of the other, and both strained with all their strength to free themselves from each other.

I jumped up, pulled out a hunting knife and cut off the lion's head with one blow. A lifeless body fell at my feet.

Then, without wasting any time, I grabbed the gun and with the butt of the gun began to drive the lion’s head even deeper into the crocodile’s mouth, so that he eventually suffocated.

thin V. Bordzilovsky

The governor's son returned and congratulated me on my victory over two forest giants.

The book was written in 1786.
Retold for children by K. Chukovsky.
The text is based on the edition: E. Raspe. The Adventures of Baron Munchausen. - St. Petersburg: Comet, 1996.

Translation from German:

"Baron Munchhausen" by Rudolf Erich Raspe

The cover design uses an illustration by Mikhail Kurdyumov

Artist Marina Mosiyash

By edition:

Raspe R. E. Travels and adventures of Baron Munchausen. – St. Petersburg: Printing house br. Panteleev, 1902.

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A guide for funny people

The book you are holding in your hands is unique. And not only because it occupies an honorable place in the history of European literature, but also because it was created by both the author and his main character. Both of them were real people, and debates among specialists are still raging about whose role in the birth of “Baron Munchausen’s Tales of His Amazing Travels and Campaigns in Russia” is more important: the philologist and expert on antiquities Rudolf Erich Raspe (1737–1794) or Baron Hieronymus Carl Friedrich von Munchausen (1720–1797). One way or another, the book was a stunning success not only among contemporaries, but also among descendants, gave rise to many imitations, and in our time has been filmed more than once. And it’s not surprising - the bewitching skill with which these amazing and fantastic stories about travel and adventure, full of humor and lively details were written, and probably told among friends, could not leave readers indifferent.

Who are they, these two, who knew each other well, maintained friendly relations for many years, and then violently quarreled over the famous book that immortalized the names of both? Their fates, like the fates of many Europeans in the second half of the turbulent 18th century, can themselves form the plot of a fascinating novel.

The first of the ancestors of Baron Hieronymus Karl Friedrich von Munchausen - a descendant of an ancient Saxon knightly family - took part in the crusade led by Frederick Barbarossa in the 12th century. One of his sons ended up in a monastery, was released from there by imperial decree, and with him, receiving the nickname Munchausen (literally “monastery”), which later became a surname, a new branch of the old family began, and from that time on the coat of arms of all Munchausens began to depict monk with staff and book. Among them were nobles and generals, ministers and even the founder of the famous University of Göttingen in Germany.

Hieronymus Karl Friedrich was born on the Bodenwerder estate near Hanover and at the age of fifteen entered the service of the sovereign Duke of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel Ferdinand Albrecht II as a page. Two years later, Munchausen had to go to Russia with the son of the Duke, who became the groom of Princess Anna Leopoldovna, to whom the childless Empress Anna Ioannovna, who was ruling in Russia at that time, wanted to transfer power. However, the matchmaking dragged on for several years, and in the meantime the young duke managed to take part in the wars that were being waged at that time Russian empire with Turkey and Sweden. Of course, the young page accompanied him everywhere. Only in 1739 did the wedding of Duke Anton Ulrich take place with Anna Leopoldovna. Munchausen, freed from the duties of a page, entered the Brunswick Cuirassier Regiment with the rank of cornet and a year later became lieutenant and commander of the first elite company of cuirassiers.

However, in 1741, power in Russia was seized by Elizabeth, the daughter of Peter I, and Prince Anton Ulrich and his wife ended up in Riga Castle, and Lieutenant Munchausen became the involuntary guard of his former high patrons. His brilliantly started career was interrupted - the baron received his next officer rank with great difficulty only in 1750, despite his reputation as an impeccable officer. But long before this, Munchausen had the opportunity to command the guard of honor that greeted the bride of the heir to the Russian throne - Sophia Friederike of Anhalt-Zerbst - the future Empress Catherine II.

In 1752, the baron, taking a year's leave from service, returned to his native Bodenwerden, a provincial town, which for several centuries, together with the surrounding area, was the possession of the Munchausen family. However, the vacation dragged on for several years, and Jerome Karl Friedrich submitted his resignation to the Military College and never returned to Russia.

From that time on, the baron led the peaceful life of a wealthy landowner - he met with neighboring landowners, hunted in the surrounding forests and fields, and occasionally visited the neighboring cities of Hanover and Gottingen. On his estate, Munchausen built a special pavilion, hung hunting trophies to receive friends there. After his death, this building was nicknamed the “pavilion of lies” - it was there that the owner, a born storyteller and improviser, “treated” guests to incredible stories about his adventures in Russia. This is how a contemporary described the evening in the “pavilion of lies”, which gathered many of the baron’s fans: “Usually he began to tell the story after dinner, lighting his huge meerschaum pipe with a short mouthpiece and placing a steaming glass of punch in front of him... The further he went, the more expressively he gesticulated, twisted his little smart wig on his head, his face became more and more animated and red, and he, usually a very truthful person, at these moments wonderfully embodied his fantasies in his faces.”

One of the baron’s regular listeners was his good friend from Hanover, Rudolf Erich Raspe, one of the most educated people of his time, who studied natural sciences and philology in Göttingen and Leipzig, an expert in philosophy and archeology, a writer and literary historian. In those years, Raspe served as a secretary in the university library, was a publisher of the works of the philosopher Leibniz, and the author of one of the first German chivalric novels, Hermin and Gunilda. In 1767, Raspe became a professor at the Carolinum University and caretaker of the antique and coin room. He devoted a lot of time to traveling through German lands in search of various rarities, coins and ancient manuscripts for the collection of the Landgrave of Kassel. At the same time, Raspe was poor, often got into debt, and one day he could not resist - he sold some of the coins from the Landgrave’s collection in order to improve his financial situation. The loss was discovered, the authorities issued an arrest warrant for the keeper, and guards came to his house. But then an almost incredible thing happened. The people who came to arrest Raspe were literally shocked by his gift as a storyteller and heard such incredible stories that they gave him the opportunity to flee the city.

Thus, Raspe and Munchausen were worthy of each other - both were writers of fantastic stories and masters of oral storytelling. Raspe moved to London, where he continued to be poor until he came up with a brilliant idea - to publish the stories told by his friend Munchausen in English. In the book, published without indicating the name of the author, Raspe included several stories already known in Germany that belonged to Munchausen - they were published earlier in the collection “Guide for Merry People.” But to these stories he added several of his own, borrowing plots from Greek, Roman and Eastern anecdotes and turning the book into a coherent work, united by the figure of the narrator.

The book had great success. New editions came out one after another, bringing the author impressive sums, and the name of Baron Munchausen soon became a household name in England to designate a virtuoso storyteller-liar, which, of course, did not bring the slightest pleasure to the descendant of the crusaders and the worthy officer of the Russian service, which was the real Munchausen.

The baron's patience ran out when Raspe's book appeared in Germany. The German translation gave his full name and details of his life, which infuriated Munchausen. At first, he decided to challenge Raspe to a duel, but since he was unattainable, he sued him for causing damage to the nobleman’s honor.

The court, however, rejected the baron's claim, since the book did not indicate the author's name. Meanwhile, Raspe’s creation gained such popularity in the German lands that onlookers began to flock to Bodenwerder to gawk at the “liar baron.” Munchausen had to set up a cordon of servants around the house to keep out curious burghers.

Thus, during his lifetime, without having done anything reprehensible in his lifetime, Baron Munchausen turned into a literary character that overshadowed his true image. The nickname “king of liars” and “liar of liars” stuck to him, and even relatives who knew the baron well turned away from him, accusing him of disgracing their name.

The real Jerome Karl Friedrich von Munchausen ended his days alone in an empty and cold house, completely ruined. The sick baron was cared for by a single maid; when, shortly before his death, she was helping a weak old man change his shoes and discovered that Munchausen was missing two toes, the baron laughed heartily and made his last joke: “I lost them while hunting in Russia - they were bitten off by a polar bear! »

What about Raspe? He left this world three years before his hero. With the money raised from the sale of books about Munchausen, the writer purchased a mine in Ireland, but before he could even begin to develop coal, he became infected with typhus, against which the medicine of that time was powerless.

Nowadays in Bodenwerder, a street, a restaurant, a hotel, a pharmacy and even a cinema bear the name of Munchausen. There is also a monument there - a fountain depicting the baron sitting on half a horse, greedily leaning towards the water. The Munchausen estate today houses the city hall, and his museum is open in the school building. Over the past two centuries, about six hundred books with continuations of the adventures of Munchausen and about himself have been published in different countries. Moreover, some of them were written by his descendants - those who were once ashamed of their relationship with the “liar baron”.

Part I
Adventures on land

Adventure one

I went straight from home to Russia, in the very middle of winter, reasoning quite correctly that in winter time in the north of Germany, Poland, Courland and Livonia, the roads, which, according to the testimony of all travelers, are even more deadly than the roads leading to the Temple of Virtue, should be improved thanks to snow and frost - without any interference from those in power who are obliged to take care of the convenience of the population.

I went on horseback. This is the most practical way of communicating, of course, with excellent qualities of both the horse and the rider. Here, in any case, you won’t suddenly get involved in a duel with some scrupulous German postmaster, and the thirsty postman won’t arbitrarily take you to every tavern along the way. I dressed for the trip quite lightly, and the cold bothered me quite a bit as I moved to the northeast.

One can imagine how the unfortunate old man whom I accidentally came across in Poland felt in such cold and bad weather. He lay on the bare ground at the edge of the road, trembling, helpless, barely covering his nakedness with pathetic rags, unable to protect him from the piercing north-east wind.

I felt terribly sorry for the poor guy. I myself was completely numb, but nevertheless threw my cloak over him.

After that, I drove on as if nothing had happened, not stopping until night overtook me, shrouding everything around in impenetrable darkness. There was no light or sound that would indicate the proximity of the village. Everything around was covered in snow, I lost my way and got lost.

Horseback riding tired me to the point of complete exhaustion. I had to get off the horse, which I tied to some kind of strong stake sticking out of a snowdrift.

Taking my pistols with me for safety, I lay down nearby in the snow and fell asleep so soundly that I opened my eyes only in broad daylight.

Imagine my surprise when I found myself in the churchyard! At first I decided that there was no trace of my horse. But then I heard a horse neighing somewhere above. I look up and see: my horse is hanging on a rein tied to the spire of the bell tower.

Then I realized what was going on. The village was completely covered with snow overnight, then the weather changed abruptly. During my sleep, I imperceptibly sank lower and lower as the snow melted, until I reached solid ground; and what I took in the darkness for a broken tree sticking out of a snowdrift turned out to be a bell tower spire with a weather vane, and my horse was tied to it.

Without thinking for a long time, I grabbed the pistol, shot at the belt on which the poor animal was hanging, and, having safely received it back into my possession, continued on my way.

Everything was going well until I got to Russia, where in winter it is not customary to ride a horse at all.

My rule is to adapt to the customs of the country where fate takes me; so I took out a one-horse sleigh and, feeling cheerful, drove off to St. Petersburg.

* * *

I can’t remember where exactly one incident happened to me: in Estland or Ingria, I only know for sure that it happened in a dense forest. A terrible seasoned wolf chased me. Prompted by a severe winter hunger, it soon overtook me, and it seemed to me there was no longer any salvation. Mechanically, I threw myself face down into the sleigh, leaving the horse to save us both as it saw fit.

Then something happened that I vaguely wished for, not daring, however, to count on such a happy outcome.

The wolf really did not pay any attention to my skinny body, but, jumping over me, furiously attacked the horse, tore to pieces and instantly swallowed the entire rear part of the unfortunate animal, which continued to rush at full speed, beside itself with fear and pain.

Having safely avoided imminent death, I quietly raised my head and saw with horror that the hungry beast was biting further and further into its prey. Having given him time to burrow deeper into the horse’s entrails, I hit the wolf with a whip. Out of fright, he rushed forward as fast as he could; then the corpse of the horse fell to the ground, and the wolf found himself in its skin and collar. I did not stop mercilessly whipping him, and thus both of us, healthy and unharmed, rushed like an arrow to St. Petersburg, completely against our mutual aspirations and to the considerable amazement of those we met.

* * *

I will not, dear sirs, bother you with empty chatter, describing the order in the luxurious Russian capital, the prosperity of sciences and arts in it and all its attractions, and even less would I like to introduce you to the intrigues and funny adventures in the select St. Petersburg society, where, between By the way, it is customary for the mistress of the house, when welcoming a guest, to certainly bring him a glass of vodka from her hands and loudly kiss him.

On the contrary, I intend to draw your attention to more worthy and noble objects, such as dogs and horses, for which I have always been a passionate hunter, and in addition to foxes, wolves and bears, which are found in Russia, like all game , in such perfect abundance that they have no idea about in other countries.

Then we will finally move on to pleasure trips, brave amusements and glorious exploits that adorn the nobleman better than scraps of gibberish called Greek and Latin, or various incense products, coques and curlicues invented by French wise men and hairdressers.

Since I could not immediately enlist in the army, I had about two months of free time left, which I was free to spend in cheerful company, as well as my money, in the most noble manner, befitting my rank.

Our nights were spent playing games or carousing with the clink of full glasses.

The cold climate of Russia and the morals of the Russian nation contributed to the fact that here the bottle occupied a much more honorable position among social pleasures than the one it occupies in our sober Germany. It is no wonder that among the Russians I have met true virtuosos in the noble art of drinking. However, all of them were no match for one gray-bearded general with a copper-red face, who usually dined with us at the common table.

This old man lost in a battle with the Turks top part skull, therefore, as soon as an unfamiliar person appeared in our company, he apologized with the most sincere courtesy for being forced to sit at the table without taking off his hat. At dinner, the general had the habit of emptying several decanters of vodka, and at the end he usually washed down this portion with a bottle of arrack or, depending on the circumstances, doubled it. Nevertheless, the venerable veteran did not become intoxicated at all.

Do you think this goes beyond all imaginable boundaries?

I excuse you, gentlemen; I myself was lost for a long time, not knowing how to explain such oddities, until one accident gave me the key to this curious riddle.

The fact is that our drinking companion from time to time seemed to mechanically slightly lift his hat. I have often seen this gesture, without, however, attaching any significance to it. That the general's forehead felt hot was as natural as the fact that the old man was cooling his head.

Finally, I managed to notice that, along with his hat, he was lifting the silver plate attached to it, which replaced the top of his skull that had been torn off. At the same time, the wine vapors from the strong drinks he drank evaporated, rushing upward in a light cloud.

Thus the incomprehensible was explained.

I informed some of my bosom friends about this, offering to confirm my outlandish discovery that same evening with visual experience.

With a smoking pipe in my hand, I quietly crept up behind the old man, waited until he took off his hat, and then, using a piece of paper, I set fire to the rising wine fumes.

We were immediately presented with an unprecedented and beautiful sight. In an instant, the vapor above our hero’s head turned into a column of flame, and part of the vapor remaining above the old man’s hair instantly flared up and formed a blue halo-like glow around his head.

My experience, of course, could not go unnoticed by him; however, the general not only did not get angry, but even allowed us to repeat these pranks from then on. Every time a new person appeared at our table, we hurried to arrange this stunning spectacle for him, and wanting to give the latter even more shine, we began vying with each other to offer the general a bet on a bottle of arrack, trying to deliberately lose to him and forcing him to drink the entire amount alone the wine he won.

Finally, the veteran’s halo grew to such proportions that its owner no longer had any room between mere mortals. One fine day he left our mortal world, probably in order to move to Valhalla and feast there among the heroes who had acquired immortality.

Adventure two

I pass over in silence many other funny pranks in which, depending on different circumstances, we played the role of either actors or spectators. Now I have in mind to amuse my listeners with a story about incomparably more amazing and interesting hunting adventures.

It would be superfluous to mention that most of all I loved to keep company with people who had a passion for the noble sport of hunting and knew a lot about it. The constant change of impressions brought by hunting, as well as the extraordinary happiness that accompanied me in my hunting adventures, make these memories of the times of my youth extremely interesting.

One morning, looking out of my bedroom window, I gasped: the large pond located next door was covered with wild ducks.

Without wasting a moment, I grabbed the gun that was standing right there in the corner, and ran down the stairs so quickly that I cracked my face on the door frame. Sparks flew from my eyes, but I couldn’t hesitate.

Having reached the pond within shooting distance, I was about to take aim, when suddenly, to my despair, I became convinced that a flint had bounced off my gun when it struck the door violently.

What could I do? There was no time to waste. Fortunately, I remembered what had just happened to my eyes. Quickly cocking the trigger, I took aim at the tempting game and punched my eye. From strong blow sparks flew from it again, the gunpowder ignited, a shot rang out, and I laid down five pairs of ducks, four corydalis and two coots.

* * *

Presence of spirit is the main thing in bravery. Soldiers and sailors often owed their salvation to him, but it also helps out hunters quite often.

I remember how one day, wandering along the shore of the lake, I again saw about fifty wild ducks, which this time were scattered over such a vast area that it was impossible to expect to kill more than two or three with one shot. Unfortunately, there was only one charge left in my gun; Meanwhile, I had an irresistible desire to take home all the game that had flown to the lake, since I expected a rather large and pleasant company for dinner.

Suddenly a happy thought came to my mind. A piece of ham fat remained in my hunting bag - the remnant of provisions taken from home. I took a dog's bundle, stretched it out to make it as long as possible, and tied a piece of lard to the end.

Hiding in the coastal reeds, I threw my simple bait into the water and began to wait.

Soon, to my joy, she was noticed by one of the ducks. The bird hastily swam towards her and greedily swallowed this tasty treat. The other ducks rushed after the first one.

The slippery fat extremely quickly passed through all the insides of the duck and, coming out of it at the other end, again found itself in the water, where it was swallowed a second time by another, then a third bird, and so on by all in turn until the very last.

In just a few minutes, my bait traveled through the insides of all the ducks, and the string, fortunately, did not break and the birds (every one!) ended up strung on it like beads.

And now, having calmly pulled my simple gear with the caught game ashore, I wrapped myself all over it, after which I moved towards my house.

He walked and walked and got tired. The path was not short, and it was becoming beyond my strength to carry such a large amount of prey, and I already began to regret my gluttony. But then the burden that was weighing me down brought me enormous relief. All the ducks were still alive! Having recovered a little from fear and bewilderment, they suddenly flapped their wings and tried to soar into the sky.

Anyone else in my place would have been at a loss; I took advantage of this unexpected turn of events and, rising above the ground, began to act in the air space with the skirts of my camisole like an oar in order to direct the flight to my home. When we were already flying over it, in order to get down to the ground, in a hurry, I began to wring the necks of my ducks one by one. This operation presented no small difficulty, because I was forced to start from the very front, and if my desperate attempt succeeded, it was only thanks to the bold somersaults in the air, which I repeated as many times as I had birds. Wringing the neck of the last duck, I slowly descended into the chimney and plopped straight onto the kitchen fire, which, fortunately for me, had not yet been lit.

It is difficult to describe the commotion caused in the kitchen by my appearance in such an unusual manner. However, the fear of the kitchen servants turned into joy when the servants, in addition to their master, also saw his rich booty, which promised abundant treats for guests and household members.

* * *

I had a similar incident with a flock of partridges.

I went hunting to try out a new gun and had already shot through my entire stock of shot, when suddenly, no longer hoping, I saw a flock of partridges moving away. The desire to get several of them to my table that same evening suggested to me one wonderful remedy, which I advise you, gentlemen, to resort to in similar circumstances.

Noticing where the game landed, I quickly loaded the gun with a ramrod instead of lead, the end of which I hastily sharpened. After that, I went towards the partridges and shot at them the moment they fluttered up. Just a few steps away from me, my ramrod landed on the ground with seven birds strung on it, which must have been quite surprised to find themselves so suddenly on a makeshift spit.

No wonder they say: “Trust in God, but don’t make a mistake yourself.” But the miracle has not yet been completed. Having picked up the pierced birds from the ground, I was just about to hide them in my hunting bag, when I suddenly noticed that they were already fried on the ramrod, which became red-hot when fired. The feathers fell off them, and the meat was so deliciously browned that all that remained was to put them on a dish and serve. At the same time, the game acquired a special piquant flavor that a sophisticated gourmet likes.

Another time I came across a magnificent silver fox in one of the dense forests of Russia. It would be a shame to ruin her precious fur by piercing it with a bullet or shot. The fox-gossip stood pressed against a tree.

In an instant I pulled the bullet out of my gun, replaced it with a large carpenter's nail, fired and hit so accurately that I pinned the bushy tail of the beautiful animal to the tree trunk. After that, calmly approaching the fox, I took my hunting knife, cut the skin on its face crosswise and began to whip the animal with a whip. The fox quickly jumped out of its skin and was like that. I returned home with a rich trophy.

* * *

Chance and luck often correct our mistakes; I was convinced of this soon after the incident described.

Once I saw a baby boar in the thicket of the forest, with its uterus running after it. Having fired at them, I unfortunately missed. I just look: what kind of miracle is this? After the shot, the cub runs away as fast as he can, but the queen stands rooted to the spot.

Coming closer, I took a closer look at her and became convinced that she had become blind from old age, which is why she was holding with her teeth the tail of the pig that served as her guide - in fulfillment of her filial duty. The pig was running after him when the bullet, which flew so successfully for them and so unsuccessfully for me - between the uterus and the calf, interrupted this living tether. The wounded guide pig, who had taken flight, stopped pulling the pig along with him, and she, naturally, stopped in bewilderment, not letting go of the remnant of the shot pig’s tail from her mouth. Without thinking twice, I grabbed this tip and calmly led the blind female boar to my home - without the slightest resistance from the helpless old animal.

* * *

No matter how scary wild pigs, boars are much more ferocious and dangerous than them.

One day, unprepared for either attack or defense, I unexpectedly came across a seasoned boar in the forest. I barely managed to hide from him behind a mighty oak tree. Then the enraged animal, thinking to hit me, struck the tree trunk with such force that its fangs sank deep into the tree and stuck in it.

“Wait a minute,” I thought, “now you won’t be able to escape.”

Grabbing a stone, I began to hammer the boar's tusks even deeper into the solid oak. No matter how much the beast strained in pain and rage, his desperate efforts led to nothing. And this adversary had to wait, willy-nilly, for my return from the neighboring village, where I ran for ropes and a cart in order to bring him alive to my home, which I managed to do without much difficulty.

* * *

Of course, dear sirs, have you heard about Saint Hubert - the brave patron of hunters and archers - and also about the noble deer that appeared to him in the forest with the holy cross between its horns?

Every year, in daring company, I diligently gave honor and praise to the hunting patron and a hundred times I saw the sacred deer either painted in churches or embroidered on the coats of arms of knights. Observing the rules of honor and conscience of a good hunter, I can hardly say for sure whether such deer with crosses were found only in the past or whether they still exist today. But this is what happened to me one day.

When I shot all my rounds while hunting, suddenly a wonderful deer seemed to rise out of the ground in front of me. He stands and looks at me, so boldly, as if he knows that my cartridge belt and shotgun are completely empty.

I felt unbearable: I loaded the gun with gunpowder alone, and instead of shot, I sprinkled a handful of cherry pits on it, which I got right there, hastily picking a few cherries and peeling the pulp. I fired this load at the deer and hit him right on the top of his head between the antlers.

For one moment he was stunned - he staggered, fell, but jumped up and - God bless his legs.

A year or two later I was hunting in the same forest; suddenly - what would you think? - out of nowhere a stately deer, and between its antlers a wonderful cherry tree, over ten feet tall. I immediately remembered my long-ago adventure, and since from that day I considered this animal my property, I killed it with a well-aimed shot.

Thus, in addition to the roast, it turned out to be a wonderful dessert, because the tree was completely strewn with ruddy cherries, the tastiest of which I had never tasted before.

Yes, my sirs, who knows, perhaps some ardent Reverend Nimrod - the abbot of a monastery or a bishop, a passionate lover of hunting - in the same manner he decorated the deer of Saint Hubert with a cross between the antlers! After all, ecclesiastical persons from time immemorial were famous for the art of decorating other people’s foreheads, and even now they zealously maintain this fame. But a good hunter in a hot moment does not take anything apart and stops at nothing so as not to lose the tasty prey from his hands. I judge by myself, because I myself have been subjected to temptations of this kind more than once. And what kind of troubles I got into is so incomprehensible!

For example, how would you like this incident?

Once, when I was in Poland, while hunting, I was caught in the forest in the evening twilight. Trouble: no light of God in heaven, no gunpowder in the flask! I turned back, when suddenly a terrible bear with an open mouth fell from the forest thicket, and right at me.

In vain I searched my pockets with my nimble fingers in the hope of finding the remains of gunpowder and lead. I came across only two gun flints, which hunters usually take in reserve. Grabbing one of these flints, I threw it with all my might into the gaping mouth of the bear with such force and dexterity that the pebble slipped into the very throat.

Not particularly pleased with my treat, the bear turned to the left in a circle, standing on all fours with its back to me, which I used to stick a second flint into it from the other end. Launched no less deftly, the pebble not only hit its intended target, but in the bear’s spacious belly it also hit the first one as hard as it could. There was a deafening crash, fire flashed, and the beast was instantly torn apart.

They say that a skillful argument a posteriore, presented by the way, and in addition colliding well with an argument a priori, completely demolished, with no less success, other ferocious scientists and philosophers with bearish habits. As for me, although this time I remained healthy and unharmed, I would not want to do the same thing again or face a bear again, not having other means of defense in reserve.

A+ A-

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen - Raspe R.E.

Story about incredible adventures Baron Munchausen on land and sea, in different countries and even on the Moon. The baron's stories are too implausible, so his listeners always laughed and did not believe. In all these adventures, Munhausen appears brave, dexterous and resourceful.

A little old man with a long nose sits by the fireplace and talks about his adventures. His listeners laugh right in his eyes:

Hey Munchausen! That's it Baron! But he doesn't even look at them.

He calmly continues to tell how he flew to the moon, how he lived among three-legged people, how he was swallowed by a huge fish, how his head was torn off.

One day a passerby was listening and listening to him and suddenly shouted:

All this is fiction! None of this happened what you are talking about. The old man frowned and answered importantly:

Those counts, barons, princes and sultans whom I had the honor to call my best friends always said that I was the most truthful person on earth. The people around laughed even louder.

Munchausen is a truthful person! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!

And Munchausen, as if nothing had happened, continued to talk about what a wonderful tree grew on the head of a deer - A tree?.. On the head of a deer?!

Yes. Cherry. And there are cherry trees on the tree. So juicy, sweet...

All these stories are printed here in this book. Read them and judge for yourself whether there was a more truthful man on earth than Baron Munchausen.

Horse on the roof

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

We had to spend the night in an open field.

There are no bushes or trees around. Only a small column stuck out from under the snow.

I somehow tied my cold horse to this post, and I lay down right there in the snow and fell asleep.

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

What's happened? 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 happened. Suddenly I hear a familiar neigh. This is my horse neighing.

But where is he?

Neighing comes from somewhere above.

I raise my head - and what?

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 happening.

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

But my poor horse remained there, above, 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 gun, aim straight and hit the bridle, because I have always been an excellent shot.

Bridle - in half.

The horse quickly descends towards me.

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

Wolf harnessed to a sleigh

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

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 crazy. The clicking of wolf teeth was heard right in my ear.

But, fortunately, the wolf did not pay any attention to me.

He jumped over the sleigh - 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 jump forward in horror and pain.

The wolf ate my horse deeper and deeper.

When I came to my senses, 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 found itself in its place - in the shafts and in the horse harness!

He could not escape from this harness: he was harnessed like a horse.

I continued to whip him as hard as I could.

He rushed forward and forward, dragging my sleigh behind him.

We rushed so fast that within two or three hours we galloped into St. Petersburg.

Amazed St. Petersburg residents ran out in crowds to look at the hero, who, instead of a horse, harnessed a ferocious wolf to his sleigh. I lived well in St. Petersburg.

Sparks from the eyes

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

One story was very funny.

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

One morning, going to the window, I noticed wild ducks on the pond.

I instantly grabbed the gun and ran headlong out of the house.

But in a hurry, running down the stairs, I hit my head on the door, so hard that sparks fell from my eyes.

It didn't stop me.

Run home for flint?

But ducks can fly away.

I sadly lowered the gun, cursing my fate, and suddenly a brilliant idea occurred to me.

As hard as I could, I punched myself in the right eye. Of course, sparks began to fall from the eye, and at the same moment the gunpowder ignited.

Yes! The gunpowder ignited, the gun fired, and I killed ten excellent ducks with one shot.

I advise you, whenever you decide to make a fire, to extract the same sparks from your right eye.

Amazing hunt

“I stood indecisive for a long time and suddenly remembered that there was a piece of lard left in my hunting bag.

Hooray! This lard will be an excellent bait. I take it out of my bag, quickly tie it to a long and thin string and throw it into the water.

Ducks, seeing food, immediately swim to the lard. One of them greedily swallows it.

But lard is slippery and, quickly passing through the duck, pops out behind it!

Thus, the duck ends up on my string.

Then the second duck swims up to the bacon, and the same thing happens to it.

Duck after duck swallows the lard and puts it on my string like beads on a string. Not even ten minutes pass before all the ducks are strung on it. You can imagine how much fun it was for me to look at such rich booty! All I had to do was pull out the caught ducks and take them to my cook in the kitchen.

That will be a feast for my friends! But dragging this many ducks turned out to be not so easy.

I took a few steps and was terribly tired. Suddenly you can imagine my amazement! – the ducks flew into the air and lifted me to the clouds.

Anyone else in my place would be at a loss, but I am a brave and resourceful person. I made a rudder out of my coat and, steering the ducks, quickly flew towards the house. But how to get down?

Very simple! My resourcefulness helped me here too. I twisted the heads of several ducks, and we began to slowly sink to the ground.

I fell right into the chimney of my own kitchen! If you had only seen how amazed my cook was when I appeared before him on the fire!

Fortunately, the cook had not yet had time to light the fire.

Partridges on a ramrod

Oh, resourcefulness is a great thing! Once I happened to shoot seven partridges with one shot. After that, even my enemies could not help but admit that I was the first shooter in the whole world, that there had never been such a shooter as Munchausen!

Here is how it was. I was returning from hunting, having spent all my bullets. Suddenly seven partridges flew out from under my feet. Of course, I could not allow such excellent game to escape me.

I loaded my gun - with what do you think? - with a ramrod! Yes, with an ordinary cleaning rod, that is, an iron round stick that is used to clean a gun!

Then I ran up to the partridges, scared them and shot. The partridges flew up one after another, and my ramrod pierced seven at once.

I picked them up and was amazed to see that they were fried! Yes, they were fried! However, it could not have been otherwise: after all, my ramrod became very hot from the shot and the partridges that fell on it could not help but fry.

I sat down on the grass and immediately ate lunch with great appetite.

Fox on a pin

Yes, resourcefulness is the most important thing in life, and there was no more resourceful person in the world than Baron Munchausen.

One day, in a dense Russian forest, I came across a silver fox.

The skin of this fox was so good that I felt sorry to spoil it with a bullet or shot.

Without hesitating for a minute, I took the bullet out of the gun barrel and, loading the gun with a long shoe needle, shot at this fox. As she stood under the tree, the needle pinned her tail firmly to the very trunk.

I slowly approached the fox and began to whip her with a whip.

She was so stunned by pain that - would you believe it? – jumped out of her skin and ran away from me naked. And I got the skin intact, not damaged by a bullet or shot.

Blind Pig

Yes, many amazing things have happened to me!

One day I was making my way through the thicket of a dense forest and I saw: a wild piglet, still very small, was running, and behind the piglet was a large pig.

I shot, but - alas - missed. My bullet flew right between the pig and the pig. The piglet squealed and ran into the forest, but the pig remained rooted to the spot.

I was surprised: why doesn’t she run away from me? But as I got closer, I realized what was going on. The pig was blind and did not understand the roads. She could walk through the forests only holding the tail of her pig.

My bullet tore off this tail. The pig ran away, and the pig, left without him, did not know where to go. She stood helplessly, holding a piece of his tail in her teeth. Then a brilliant idea occurred to me. I grabbed this tail and took the pig to my kitchen. The poor blind woman obediently trudged after me, thinking that she was still being led by the pig!

Yes, I must repeat again that resourcefulness is a great thing!

How I caught a wild boar

Another time I came across a wild boar in the forest. It was much more difficult to deal with him. I didn't even have a gun with me.

I started to run, but he rushed after me like mad and would certainly have pierced me with his fangs if I had not hidden behind the first oak tree I came across.

The boar ran into an oak tree, and its fangs sank so deeply into the tree trunk that he could not pull them out.

- Yeah, gotcha, darling! - I said, coming out from behind the oak tree. - Wait a minute! Now you won't leave me!

And, taking a stone, I began to hammer the sharp fangs even deeper into the tree so that the boar could not free itself, and then I tied it with a strong rope and, putting it on a cart, triumphantly took it to my home.

That’s why the other hunters were surprised! They could not even imagine that such a ferocious beast could be caught alive without expending a single charge.

Extraordinary deer

However, even better miracles have happened to me. I was walking through the forest one day and treating myself to sweet, juicy cherries that I bought along the way.

And suddenly, right in front of me - a deer! Slender, beautiful, with huge branchy horns! And, as luck would have it, I didn’t have a single bullet!

The deer stands and looks at me calmly, as if he knows that my gun is not loaded. Luckily, I still had a few cherries left, so I loaded the gun with a cherry pit instead of a bullet. Yes, yes, don’t laugh, an ordinary cherry pit.

A shot rang out, but the deer only shook its head. The bone hit him on the forehead and did no harm. In an instant, he disappeared into the thicket of the forest.

In an instant, he disappeared into the thicket of the forest. I was very sorry that I missed such a beautiful animal.

A year later I was hunting in the same forest again. Of course, by that time I had completely forgotten about the cherry pit story.

Imagine my amazement when a magnificent deer jumped out of the thicket of the forest right at me, with a tall, spreading cherry tree growing between its antlers! Oh, believe me, it was very beautiful: a slender deer with a slender tree on its head! I immediately guessed that this tree grew from that small bone that served as a bullet for me last year. This time I had no shortage of charges. I took aim, fired, and the deer fell to the ground dead. Thus, with one shot I immediately got both the roast and the cherry compote, because the tree was covered with large, ripe cherries.

I must confess that I have never tasted more delicious cherries in my entire life.

Wolf inside out

I don’t know why, but it often happened to me that I met the most ferocious and dangerous animals at a moment when I was unarmed and helpless.

One day I was walking through the forest, and a wolf came towards me. He opened his mouth - and straight towards me.

What to do? Run? But the wolf has already pounced on me, knocked me over and is now going to gnaw my throat. Anyone else in my place would be at a loss, but you know Baron Munchausen! I am determined, resourceful and brave. Without a moment's hesitation, I thrust my fist into the wolf's mouth and, so that he would not bite off my hand, I stuck it deeper and deeper. The wolf looked at me fiercely. His eyes sparkled with rage. But I knew that if I pulled my hand away, he would tear me into small pieces, and therefore fearlessly stuck it in further and further. And suddenly a magnificent thought occurred to me: I grabbed his insides, pulled hard and turned him inside out like a mitten!

Of course, after such an operation he fell dead at my feet. I made an excellent warm jacket from its skin and, if you don’t believe me, I’ll be happy to show it to you.

Crazy fur coat

However, there have been worse events in my life than meeting wolves.

One day a mad dog chased me. I ran away from her as fast as I could. But I had a heavy fur coat on my shoulders, which prevented me from running.

I threw it off as I ran, ran into the house and slammed the door behind me. The fur coat remained on the street.

The mad dog attacked her and began to bite her furiously. My servant ran out of the house, picked up the fur coat and hung it in the closet where my clothes hung.

The next day, early in the morning, he runs into my bedroom and shouts in a frightened voice:

Get up! Get up! Your fur coat has gone wild!

I jump out of bed, open the closet, and what do I see?! All my dresses are torn to shreds! The servant turned out to be right: my poor fur coat was furious because yesterday it was bitten by a mad dog.

The fur coat furiously attacked my new uniform, and only shreds flew from it. I grabbed the gun and fired.

The mad fur coat instantly fell silent. Then I ordered my people to tie her up and hang her in a separate closet. Since then, she hasn’t bitten anyone, and I put it on without any fear.

Eight-legged hare

Yes, many wonderful stories happened to me in Russia.

One day I was chasing an extraordinary hare. The hare was surprisingly fleet-footed. He jumps forward and forward - and at least sits down to rest. For two days I chased him without getting out of the saddle, and could not catch up with him.

My faithful dog Dianka did not lag behind him a single step, but I could not get within shooting distance of him. On the third day I still managed to shoot that damned hare.

As soon as he fell on the grass, I jumped off my horse and rushed to look at him. Imagine my surprise when I saw that this hare, in addition to its usual legs, also had spare legs. He had four legs on his stomach and four on his back!

Yes, he had excellent, strong legs on his back! When his lower legs got tired, he rolled over onto his back, belly up, and continued to run on his spare legs.

No wonder I chased him like crazy for three days!

Wonderful jacket

Unfortunately, while chasing the eight-legged hare, my faithful dog was so tired from the three-day chase that he fell to the ground and died an hour later.

Since then I have no need for a gun or a dog. Whenever I'm in the forest, my jacket pulls me to where the wolf or hare is hiding.

When I approach the game within shooting distance, a button comes off my jacket and, like a bullet, flies straight at the animal! The beast falls on the spot, killed by an amazing button. This jacket is still on me.

You don't seem to believe me, are you smiling? But look here, and you will see that I am telling you the honest truth: can’t you see with your own eyes that now there are only two buttons left on my jacket? When I go hunting again, I'll add at least three dozen to it.

Other hunters will be jealous of me!

Horse on the table

I guess I haven’t told you anything about my horses yet? Meanwhile, many wonderful stories happened to them and me.

It happened in Lithuania. I was visiting a friend who was passionate about horses. And so, when he was showing the guests his best horse, of which he was especially proud, the horse broke free from the bridle, knocked over four grooms and rushed across the yard like crazy.

Everyone ran away in fear. There was not a single daredevil who would dare approach the enraged animal. Only I was not at a loss, because, possessing amazing courage, since childhood I have been able to bridle the wildest horses.

With one leap I jumped onto the horse's ridge and instantly tamed him. Immediately feeling my strong hand, he submitted to me like a small child. I drove around the entire yard in triumph, and suddenly I wanted to show my art to the ladies who were sitting at the tea table.

How to do this? Very simple! I directed my horse to the window and, like a whirlwind, flew into the dining room.

The ladies liked this very much; they began to laugh and clap their hands, and my friend, fascinated by my amazing dexterity, asked me to accept this magnificent horse as a gift.

I was very happy about his gift, since I was getting ready to go to war and had been looking for a horse for a long time. An hour later I was already racing on a new horse towards Turkey, where fierce battles were going on at that time.

Half a horse

In battles, of course, I was distinguished by desperate courage and flew into the enemy ahead of everyone else.

Once, after a hot battle with the Turks, we captured an enemy fortress. I was the first to break into it and, having driven all the Turks out of the fortress, galloped to the well to water the hot horse. The horse drank and could not quench his thirst. Several hours passed, and he still did not look away from the well. What a miracle! I was amazed. But suddenly a strange splashing sound was heard behind me.

I looked back and almost fell out of the saddle in surprise.

It turned out that the entire back part of my horse was cut off completely and the water that he drank flowed freely behind him, without lingering in his stomach! This created a vast lake behind me. I was stunned. What kind of strangeness is this?

She grazes there even now! - the soldier told me.

Grazing? Can't be!

See for yourself.

I rode on the front half of the horse towards the meadow. There I actually found the back half of the horse. She was grazing peacefully in a green clearing.

I immediately sent for a military doctor, and he, without thinking twice, sewed both halves of my horse with thin laurel twigs, since he did not have any thread on hand.

Both halves grew together perfectly, and the laurel branches took root in my horse’s body, and within a month I had a bower of laurel branches above my saddle. Sitting in this cozy gazebo, I accomplished many amazing feats.

Riding on the core

However, during the war I had the opportunity to ride not only horses, but also cannonballs.

It happened like this. We were besieging a Turkish city, and our commander needed to find out how many guns there were in that city.

But in our entire army there was not a brave man who would agree to sneak into the enemy camp unnoticed.

Of course, I was the bravest of all.

I stood next to a huge cannon that was firing at the Turkish city, and when a cannonball flew out of the cannon, I jumped on top of it and dashed forward. Everyone exclaimed in one voice:

Bravo, bravo, Baron Munchausen!

At first I flew with pleasure, but when the enemy city appeared in the distance, I was overcome by anxious thoughts.

“Hm! - I said to myself. “You’ll probably fly in, but will you be able to get out of there?” The enemies will not stand on ceremony with you, they will seize you as a spy and hang you on the nearest gallows. No, dear Munchausen, you need to come back before it’s too late!”

At that moment, an oncoming cannonball fired by the Turks into our camp flew past me. Without thinking twice, I moved onto it and rushed back as if nothing had happened.

Of course, during the flight I carefully counted all the Turkish cannons and brought my commander the most accurate information about the enemy’s artillery.

By hair

In general, during this war I had many adventures.

Once, fleeing from the Turks, I tried to jump over a swamp on horseback. But the horse did not jump to the shore, and we splashed into the liquid mud with a running start. They splashed and began to drown. There was no escape.

The swamp sucked us deeper and deeper with terrible speed. Now the entire body of my horse was hidden in the stinking mud, now, and my head began to sink into the swamp, and only the braid of my wig sticks out from there.

What was to be done? We would certainly have died if not for the amazing strength of my hands. I'm a terrible strongman. Grabbing myself by this pigtail, I pulled upward with all my might and without much difficulty pulled both myself and my horse out of the swamp, which I held tightly with both legs, like tongs.

Yes, I lifted both myself and my horse into the air, and if you think it’s easy, try it yourself.

Bee shepherd and bears

But neither strength nor courage saved me from terrible trouble.

Once during a battle the Turks surrounded me, and although I fought like a tiger, I was still captured by them.

They tied me up and sold me into slavery. Dark days have begun for me. True, the work I was given was not difficult, but rather boring and annoying: I was appointed bee shepherd. Every morning I had to drive the Sultan bees out onto the lawn, graze them all day, and drive them back into the hives in the evening.

At first everything went well, but one day, after counting my bees, I noticed that one was missing.

I went to look for her and soon saw that she was attacked by two huge bears, who obviously wanted to tear her in two and feast on her sweet honey.

I didn't have any weapons with me - only a small silver hatchet.

I swung my hand and threw this hatchet at the greedy animals to scare them and free the poor bee. The bears ran away and the bee was saved. But, unfortunately, I did not calculate the span of my mighty arm and threw the hatchet with such force that it flew to the moon. Yes, to the moon. You shake your head and laugh, but at that time I was not laughing.

I thought about it. What should I do? Where can I get a ladder long enough to reach the Moon itself?

First trip to the moon

Fortunately, I remembered that in Turkey there is a garden vegetable that grows very quickly and sometimes reaches the very sky.

These are Turkish beans. Without a moment's hesitation, I planted one of these beans in the ground, and it immediately began to grow. He grew higher and higher and soon reached the moon!

Hooray! - I exclaimed and climbed up the stem.

An hour later I found myself on the moon. It was not easy for me to find my silver hatchet on the Moon. The moon is silver, and the silver hatchet is not visible on the silver. But in the end I still found my hatchet on a pile of rotten straw.

I happily tucked it into my belt and wanted to go down to Earth. But that was not the case: the sun dried out my beanstalk, and it crumbled into small pieces! Seeing this, I almost cried with grief.

What to do? What to do? Will I never return to Earth? Am I really going to stay on this hateful Moon all my life? Oh no! Never! I ran to the straw and began to twist a rope out of it. The rope was not long, but what a disaster! I started going down it. With one hand I slid along the rope, and with the other I held the hatchet.

But soon the rope ended, and I hung in the air, between heaven and earth. It was terrible, but I was not at a loss. Without thinking twice, I grabbed a hatchet and, firmly grasping the lower end of the rope, cut off its upper end and tied it to the lower one. This gave me the opportunity to go lower to the Earth.

But still it was far from Earth. Many times I had to cut off the top half of the rope and tie it to the bottom. Finally I descended so low that I could see the city houses and palaces. There were only three or four miles to Earth.

And suddenly - oh horror! - the rope broke. I fell to the ground with such force that I made a hole at least half a mile deep.

Having come to my senses, for a long time I did not know how to get out of this deep hole. I didn’t eat or drink all day, but I kept thinking and thinking. And finally he thought of it: he dug out steps with his nails and climbed up the stairs to the surface of the earth. Oh, Munchausen will not disappear anywhere!

Greed Punished

The experience gained through such hard work makes a person smarter. After traveling to the moon, I invented a more convenient way to rid my bees of bears.

In the evening I smeared the cart shaft with honey and hid nearby. As soon as it got dark, a huge bear crept up to the cart and began to greedily lick the honey that covered the shaft. The glutton was so carried away by this delicacy that he did not notice how the shaft entered his throat, and then into his stomach and finally came out behind him. This is just what I was waiting for.

I ran up to the cart and drove a thick and long nail into the shaft behind the bear! The bear found himself stuck on a shaft. Now he won’t be able to slip either here or there. I left him in this position until the morning.

In the morning, the Turkish Sultan himself heard about this trick and came to look at the bear caught using such an amazing trick. He looked at him for a long time and laughed until he dropped.

Horses under your arms, a carriage on your shoulders

Soon the Turks released me and, together with other prisoners, sent me back to St. Petersburg.

But I decided to leave Russia, got into a carriage and drove to my homeland. The winter that year was very cold. Even the sun caught a cold, froze his cheeks, and he got a runny nose. And when the sun has a cold, it produces cold instead of warmth. You can imagine how chilled I was in my carriage! The road was narrow. There were fences on both sides.

I ordered my driver to blow the horn so that oncoming carriages would wait for us to pass, because on such a narrow road we could not pass each other.

The coachman carried out my order. He took the horn and began to blow. Blown, blew, blew, but not a sound came out of the horn! Meanwhile, a large carriage was driving towards us.

There is nothing to do, I get out of the carriage and unharness my horses. Then I hoist the carriage onto my shoulders - and the carriage is heavily loaded! - and in one leap I transfer the carriage back onto the road, but already behind the carriage.

It was not easy even for me, and you know what a strong man I am. Having rested a little, I return to my horses, take them under my arms and in the same two jumps carry them to the carriage.

During these jumps, one of my horses began to kick wildly. It was not very convenient, but I put her hind legs in the pocket of my coat, and she had to calm down.

Then I harnessed the horses to the carriage and calmly drove to the nearest hotel. It was nice to warm up after such a severe frost and relax after such hard work!

Thawed sounds

My coachman hung the horn not far from the stove, and he himself came up to me, and we began to talk peacefully.

And suddenly the horn began to play:

“Tru-tutu! Tra-tata! Ra-rara!

We were very surprised, but at that moment I understood why in the cold it was impossible to make a single sound from this horn, but in the warmth it began to play by itself.

In the cold, the sounds froze in the horn, and now, having warmed up by the stove, they thawed and began to fly out of the horn themselves. The coachman and I enjoyed this enchanting music throughout the evening.

Storm

But please do not think that I traveled only through forests and fields. No, I happened to cross seas and oceans more than once, and there I had adventures that never happened to anyone else.

Once we were sailing in India on a large ship. The weather was great. But while we were anchored off an island, a hurricane arose. The storm hit with such force that it tore up several thousand (yes, several thousand!) trees on the island and carried them straight to the clouds.

Huge trees, weighing hundreds of pounds, flew so high above the ground that from below they seemed like some kind of feathers.

And as soon as the storm ended, each tree fell to its original place and immediately took root, so that no traces of the hurricane remained on the island. Amazing trees, aren't they?

However, one tree never returned to its place. The fact is that when it flew into the air, there was one poor peasant and his wife on its branches. Why did they climb there? It’s very simple: to pick cucumbers, since in that area cucumbers grow on trees.

The inhabitants of the island love cucumbers more than anything else and do not eat anything else. This is their only food. The poor peasants, caught in the storm, unwittingly had to commit air travel under the clouds.

When the storm died down, the tree began to fall to the ground. The peasant and the peasant woman, as if on purpose, were very fat, they tilted him with their weight, and the tree fell not where it had grown before, but to the side, and flew into the local king and, fortunately, crushed him like a bug.

Fortunately? - you ask. - Why fortunately?

Because this king was cruel and brutally tortured all the inhabitants of the island. The residents were very glad that their tormentor was dead, and offered the crown to me:

Please, good Munchausen, be our king. Do us a favor and reign over us. You are so wise and brave.

But I flatly refused, since I don’t like cucumbers.

Between a crocodile and a lion

When the storm ended, we raised anchor and two weeks later we safely arrived on the island of Ceylon. The eldest son of the Ceylon governor invited me to go hunting with him.

I agreed with great pleasure. We went to the nearest forest. The heat was terrible, and I must admit that, out of habit, I was very soon tired.

And the governor’s son, a strong young man, felt great in this heat. He lived in Ceylon since childhood. The Ceylon sun was nothing to him, and he walked briskly along the hot sands.

I fell behind him and soon got lost in the thicket of an unfamiliar forest. I'm walking and hear a rustling sound. I look around: in front of me is a huge lion, which has opened its mouth and wants to tear me to pieces. What to do here? My gun was loaded with small shot, which would not even kill a partridge. I fired, but the shot only irritated the ferocious beast, and he attacked me with redoubled fury.

In horror, I started to run, knowing that it was in vain, that the monster would overtake me in one leap and tear me to pieces. But where am I running? Ahead of me, a huge crocodile opened its mouth, ready to swallow me at that very moment. What to do? What to do? Behind is a lion, in front is a crocodile, to the left is a lake, to the right is a swamp infested with poisonous snakes.

In mortal fear, I fell on the grass and, closing my eyes, prepared for inevitable death. And suddenly something seemed to roll and crash over my head. I opened my eyes slightly and saw an amazing sight that brought me great joy: it turns out that the lion, rushing at me at the moment when I was falling to the ground, flew over me and fell straight into the mouth of the crocodile!

The head of one monster was in the throat of the other, and both strained with all their strength to free themselves from each other. I jumped up, pulled out a hunting knife and cut off the lion's head with one blow.

A lifeless body fell at my feet. Then, without wasting time, I grabbed the gun and, with the butt of the gun, began to drive the lion’s head even deeper into the crocodile’s mouth, so that it eventually suffocated. The governor's son returned and congratulated me on my victory over two forest giants.

Meeting with a whale

You can understand that after this I did not really enjoy Ceylon. I boarded a warship and went to America, where there are neither crocodiles nor lions.

We sailed for ten days without incident, but suddenly, not far from America, trouble befell us: we hit an underwater rock. The blow was so strong that the sailor sitting on the mast was thrown three miles into the sea.

Fortunately, as he fell into the water, he managed to grab the beak of a red heron flying past, and the heron helped him stay on the surface of the sea until we picked him up.

We hit the rock so unexpectedly that I could not stay on my feet: I was thrown up and I hit my head on the ceiling of my cabin. Because of this, my head fell into my stomach, and only over the course of several months I managed to gradually pull it out of there by the hair.

The rock we hit was not a rock at all. It was a whale of colossal size, dozing peacefully on the water.

Having swooped down on him, we woke him up, and he was so angry that he grabbed our ship by the anchor with his teeth and dragged us all day long, from morning to night, all over the ocean. Luckily, the anchor chain eventually broke and we were free of the whale.

On our way back from America we met this whale again. He was dead and lying on the water, covering half a mile with his carcass. There was no point in even thinking about dragging this hulk onto the ship. That's why we cut off only the head from the whale. And what was our joy when, having dragged her onto the deck, we found in the monster’s mouth our anchor and forty meters of the ship’s chain, which all fit in one hole of his rotten tooth!

But our joy did not last long. We discovered that there was a large hole in our ship. Water poured into the hold. The ship began to sink.

Everyone was confused, screamed, cried, but I quickly figured out what to do. Without even taking off my pants, I sat right in the hole and plugged it with my backside.

The leak has stopped. The ship was saved.

In the stomach of a fish

A week later we arrived in Italy. It was a sunny, clear day, and I went to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea to swim. The water was warm. I am an excellent swimmer and swam far from the shore.

Suddenly I see a huge fish with a wide open mouth swimming right at me! What was to be done? It is impossible to escape from her, and so I shrank into a ball and rushed into her gaping mouth, in order to quickly slip past the sharp teeth and immediately find myself in the stomach.

Not everyone would come up with such a witty trick, but in general I am a witty person and, as you know, very resourceful. The fish’s stomach turned out to be dark, but warm and cozy.

I began to walk around in this darkness, walking back and forth, and soon noticed that the fish really didn’t like it. Then I began to deliberately stomp my feet, jump and dance like crazy in order to thoroughly torment her.

The fish screamed in pain and stuck its huge snout out of the water. She was soon spotted by an Italian ship passing by.

This is exactly what I wanted! The sailors killed it with a harpoon, and then dragged it onto their deck and began to consult on how best to cut the extraordinary fish.

I sat inside and, I must admit, was trembling with fear: I was afraid that these people would chop me up along with the fish. How terrible it would be!

But, fortunately, their axes did not hit me. As soon as the first light flashed, I began to shout in a loud voice in the purest Italian (oh, I know Italian perfectly!) that I was glad to see these good people who freed me from my stuffy prison.

My wonderful servants

The ship that saved me was heading to the capital of Turkey. The Italians, among whom I now found myself, immediately saw that I was a wonderful person and invited me to stay on the ship with them. I agreed, and a week later we landed on the Turkish coast.

The Turkish Sultan, having learned about my arrival, of course, invited me to dinner. He met me on the threshold of his palace and said:

I am happy, my dear Munchausen, that I can welcome you to my ancient capital. Hope you are in good health? I know all your great exploits, and I would like to entrust you with one difficult task that no one but you can handle, because you are the smartest and most resourceful person on earth. Could you go to Egypt immediately?

With joy! - I responded. - I love traveling so much that I’m ready to go to the ends of the world right now!

The Sultan really liked my answer, and he entrusted me with an assignment that must remain a secret to everyone forever and ever, and therefore I cannot tell you what it was. Yes, yes, the Sultan entrusted me with a great secret, because he knew that I was the most reliable person in the whole world. I bowed and immediately set off.

As soon as I drove away from the Turkish capital, I came across a small man running with extraordinary speed. He had a heavy weight tied to each of his legs, and yet he flew like an arrow.

Where are you going? - I asked him. - And why did you tie these weights to your feet? After all, they prevent you from running!

“Three minutes ago I was in Vienna,” the little man answered as he ran, “and now I’m going to Constantinople to look for some work.” I hung the weights at my feet so as not to run too fast, because I had nowhere to rush.

I really liked this amazing walker, and I took him into my service. He willingly followed me. The next day, near the road, we noticed a man lying face down with his ear to the ground.

What are you doing here? - I asked him.

I listen to the grass growing in the field! - he answered.

And do you hear?

I hear you great! For me this is a mere trifle!

In that case, come into my service, my dear. Your sensitive ears can be useful to me on the road.

Listen,” I turned to him. -Who are you shooting at? There is no animal or bird to be seen anywhere.

There was a sparrow sitting on the roof of a bell tower in Berlin, and I hit it right in the eye.

You know how much I love hunting. I hugged the marksman and invited him to my service. He happily followed me. Having passed through many countries and cities, we approached a vast forest. We see a huge man standing by the road and holding in his hands a rope, which he has thrown in a loop around the entire forest.

What are you carrying? - I asked him.

“Well, I needed to chop some wood, but I still have the ax at home,” he answered. - I want to contrive to do without an axe.

He pulled the rope, and huge oak trees, like thin blades of grass, flew into the air and fell to the ground. Of course, I spared no expense and immediately invited this strongman to my service.

When we arrived in Egypt, such a terrible storm arose that all our carriages and horses went head over heels along the road.

In the distance we saw seven mills, the wings of which were spinning like crazy. And a man lay on a hillock and pinched his left nostril with his finger. Seeing us, he greeted me courteously, and the storm stopped in an instant.

What are you doing here? - I asked.

“I turn my master’s mills,” he answered. - And so that they don’t break, I don’t blow too hard: only from one nostril. “This man will be useful to me,” I thought and invited him to go with me.

Chinese wine

In Egypt, I soon fulfilled all the Sultan's orders. My resourcefulness helped me here too. A week later, I returned to the capital of Turkey with my extraordinary servants. The Sultan was glad of my return and praised me very much for my successful actions in Egypt.

You are smarter than all my ministers, dear Munchausen! - he said, shaking my hand tightly. - Come to dinner with me today!

The dinner was very tasty - but alas! - there was no wine on the table, because Turks are prohibited by law from drinking wine. I was very upset, and the Sultan, to console me, took me to his office after dinner, opened a secret closet and took out a bottle.

You have never tasted such excellent wine in your entire life, my dear Munchausen! - he said, pouring me a full glass.

The wine was really good. But after the first sip, I declared that in China, the Chinese bogdykhan Fu Chan has even purer wine than this.

My dear Munchausen! - exclaimed the Sultan. “I’m used to believing every word you say, because you are the most truthful person on earth, but I swear that now you are telling a lie: there is no better wine than this!”

And I will prove to you that it happens!

Munchausen, you are talking nonsense!

No, I’m telling the absolute truth and in exactly one hour I undertake to deliver you from the Bogdykhan cellar a bottle of such wine, in comparison with which your wine is a pitiful sour.

Munchausen, you are forgetting yourself! I have always considered you one of the most truthful people on earth, but now I see that you are a shameless liar.

If so, I demand that you see immediately whether I am telling the truth!

Agree! - answered the Sultan. “If by four o’clock you have not delivered me a bottle of the best wine in the world from China, I will order your head to be cut off.”

Great! - I exclaimed. - I agree to your terms. But if by four o’clock this wine is on your table, you will give me as much gold from your pantry as one person can carry at a time.

The Sultan agreed. I wrote a letter to the Chinese Bogdykhan and asked him to give me a bottle of the same wine that he treated me to three years ago.

“If you refuse my request,” I wrote, “your friend Munchausen will die at the hands of the executioner.”

When I finished writing, it was already five minutes past four. I called my runner and sent him to the Chinese capital. He untied the weights hanging from his legs, took the letter and in an instant disappeared from sight.

I returned to the Sultan's office. While waiting for the walker, we drained the bottle we had started to the bottom. A quarter past four struck, then half past four, then three quarters past four, but my speedster did not show up. I felt somehow uneasy, especially when I noticed that the Sultan was holding a bell in his hands to ring and call the executioner.

Let me go out into the garden to breathe fresh air! - I told the Sultan.

Please! - answered the Sultan with the most amiable smile. But, going out into the garden, I saw that some people were following me on my heels, not retreating a single step from me.

These were the Sultan's executioners, ready every minute to pounce on me and cut off my poor head. In desperation, I looked at my watch. Five minutes to four! Do I really only have five minutes left to live? Oh, this is too terrible! I called my servant, the one who heard the grass growing in the field, and asked him if he could hear the tramping feet of my walker. He put his ear to the ground and told me, to my great grief, that the lazy walker had fallen asleep!

Asleep?!

Yes, I fell asleep. I can hear him snoring far, far away.

My legs gave way from horror. Another minute and I will die an inglorious death. I called another servant, the same one who was aiming at the sparrow, and he immediately climbed the highest tower and, standing on tiptoe, began to peer into the distance.

Well, do you see the scoundrel? - I asked, choking with anger.

See see! He is lounging on a lawn under an oak tree near Beijing, snoring. And next to him is a bottle... But wait, I’ll wake you up!

He shot at the top of the oak tree under which the walker was sleeping. Acorns, leaves and branches fell on the sleeping man and woke him up. The runner jumped up, rubbed his eyes and started running like crazy. There were only half a minute left before four o'clock when he flew into the palace with a bottle of Chinese wine.

You can imagine how great my joy was! Having tasted the wine, the Sultan was delighted and exclaimed:

Dear Munchausen! Let me hide this bottle away from you. I want to drink it alone. I never thought that such a sweet and delicious wine could exist in the world.

He locked the bottle in the closet, put the keys to the closet in his pocket and ordered the treasurer to be called immediately.

“I allow my friend Munchausen to take from my storerooms as much gold as one person can carry at a time,” said the Sultan.

The treasurer bowed low to the Sultan and led me into the dungeons of the palace, filled to the brim with treasures.

I called my strongman. He shouldered all the gold that was in the Sultan’s storerooms, and we ran to the sea. There I hired a huge ship and loaded it to the top with gold. Having raised the sails, we hastened to go out to the open sea, until the Sultan came to his senses and took his treasures from me.

Chase

But what I was so afraid of happened. As soon as we drove away from the shore, the treasurer ran to his master and told him that I had robbed his storerooms completely. The Sultan became furious and sent his entire navy after me.

Having seen many warships, I must admit, I was seriously afraid.

“Well, Munchausen,” I said to myself, “your last hour has come. Now there will be no salvation for you. All your cunning will not help you.”

I felt that my head, which had just secured itself on my shoulders, was again as if separated from my body. Suddenly my servant approached me, the one with powerful nostrils.

Don't be afraid, they won't catch up with us! - he said with a laugh, ran to the stern and, pointing one nostril against the Turkish fleet and the other against our sails, raised such a terrible wind that the entire Turkish fleet flew away from us back into the harbor in one minute.

And our ship, urged on by my mighty servant, quickly rushed forward and a day later reached Italy.

Accurate shot

In Italy I became a rich man, but a calm, peaceful life was not for me. I longed for new adventures and exploits.

Therefore, I was very happy when I heard that a new war had broken out not far from Italy, the British were fighting the Spaniards. Without hesitating for a moment, I jumped on my horse and rushed to the battlefield. The Spaniards were then besieging the English fortress of Gibraltar, and I immediately made my way to the besieged.

The general commanding the fortress was a good friend of mine. He received me with open arms and began to show me the fortifications he had erected, since he knew that I could give him practical and useful advice.

Standing on the wall of Gibraltar, I saw through the telescope that the Spaniards were pointing the muzzle of their cannon exactly at the place where we both stood.

Without hesitating for a moment, I ordered a huge cannon to be placed in this very place.

For what? - asked the general.

You will see! - I answered.

As soon as the cannon was rolled up to me, I pointed its muzzle directly at the muzzle of the enemy cannon, and when the Spanish gunner brought the fuse to his cannon, I loudly commanded:

Both cannons burst at the same moment.

What I expected happened: at the point I had designated, two cannonballs - ours and the enemy's - collided with terrifying force, and the enemy cannonball flew back.

Imagine: it flew back to the Spaniards. It tore off the head of a Spanish gunner and sixteen Spanish soldiers. It knocked down the masts of three ships in the Spanish harbor and rushed straight to Africa.

Having flown another two hundred and fourteen miles, it fell on the roof of a wretched peasant shack where an old woman lived. The old woman lay on her back and slept, and her mouth was open. The cannonball made a hole in the roof, hit the sleeping woman right in the mouth, knocked out her last teeth and got stuck in her throat - neither here nor there!

Her husband, a hot-headed and resourceful man, ran into the shack. He put his hand down her throat and tried to pull the core out, but it wouldn’t budge.

Then he brought a good snuff of snuff to her nose; she sneezed so well that the cannonball flew out of the window into the street! This is how much trouble the Spaniards were caused by their own core, which I sent back to them. Our core also did not give them pleasure: it hit their warship and sent it to the bottom, and there were two hundred Spanish sailors on the ship!

So the British won this war mainly due to my resourcefulness.

“Thank you, dear Munchausen,” my friend the general told me, shaking my hands tightly. - If it weren't for you, we would have been lost. We owe our brilliant victory only to you.

Nonsense, nonsense! - I said. - I am always ready to serve my friends.

In gratitude for my service, the English general wanted to promote me to colonel, but I, as a very modest person, declined such a high honor.

One against a thousand

I told the general this:

I don’t need any orders or ranks! I help you out of friendship, selflessly. Simply because I love the English very much.

Thank you, friend Munchausen! - said the general, shaking my hands again. - Please continue to help us.

“With great pleasure,” I answered and patted the old man on the shoulder. “I am delighted to serve the British people.”

Soon I had the opportunity to help my English friends again. I disguised myself as a Spanish priest and, when night fell, I sneaked into the enemy camp.

The Spaniards slept soundly, and no one saw me. I quietly got to work: I went to where their terrible cannons stood, and quickly, quickly began throwing these cannons into the sea - one after another - away from the shore.

This turned out to be not very easy, because there were more than three hundred guns. Having finished with the guns, I pulled out the wooden wheelbarrows, droshky, carts, carts that were in this camp, dumped them in one pile and set them on fire.

They flared up like gunpowder. A terrible fire started.

The Spaniards woke up and began to run around the camp in despair. In their fright, they imagined that seven or eight English regiments had visited their camp during the night.

They could not imagine that this destruction could be carried out by one person. The Spanish commander-in-chief began to flee in horror and, without stopping, ran for two weeks until he reached Madrid.

His entire army set off after him, not even daring to look back. Thus, thanks to my courage, the British finally defeated the enemy.

What would we do without Munchausen? - they said and, shaking my hands, called me the savior of the English army.

The British were so grateful for my help that they invited me to London to stay. I willingly settled in England, not foreseeing what adventures awaited me in this country.

Core Man

And the adventures were terrible. That's what happened one day.

Walking around London one day, I was very tired and wanted to lie down to rest. It was a summer day, the sun burned mercilessly; I dreamed of a cool place somewhere under a spreading tree. But there was no tree nearby, and so, in search of coolness, I climbed into the mouth of the old cannon and immediately fell into a deep sleep.

But I need to tell you that on this very day the British celebrated my victory over the Spanish army and fired all their cannons in joy. The gunner approached the cannon in which I was sleeping and fired.

I flew out of the cannon like a good cannonball, and, flying to the other side of the river, landed in the yard of some peasant. Luckily, there was soft hay stacked in the yard. I stuck my head into it - into the very middle of a large haystack. This saved my life, but of course I lost consciousness. So, unconscious, I lay for three months.

In the fall, the price of hay rose, and the owner wanted to sell it. The workers surrounded my haystack and began turning it with pitchforks. I woke up from their loud voices. Having somehow climbed to the top of the stack, I rolled down and, falling right on the owner’s head, accidentally broke his neck, causing him to die immediately.

However, no one really cried for him. He was an unscrupulous miser and did not pay his employees any money. In addition, he was a greedy trader: he sold his hay only when it greatly increased in price.

Among the polar bears

My friends were happy that I was alive. In general, I had many friends, and they all loved me dearly. You can imagine how happy they were when they found out that I was not killed. They thought I was dead for a long time.

The famous traveler Finne, who was about to make an expedition to the North Pole at that time, was especially happy.

Dear Munchausen, I am delighted that I can hug you! - Finne exclaimed as soon as I appeared on the threshold of his office. - You must immediately go with me as my closest friend! I know that without your wise advice I will not have success!

Of course, I immediately agreed, and a month later we were already not far from the Pole. One day, standing on the deck, I noticed in the distance a high ice mountain on which two polar bears were floundering. I grabbed my gun and jumped from the ship straight onto the floating ice floe.

It was difficult for me to climb the icy cliffs and rocks, smooth as a mirror, sliding down every minute and risking falling into a bottomless abyss, but, despite the obstacles, I reached the top of the mountain and came almost close to the bears.

And suddenly a misfortune happened to me: as I was about to shoot, I slipped on the ice and fell, hitting my head on the ice and at that very moment I lost consciousness. When consciousness returned to me half an hour later, I almost screamed in horror: a huge polar bear had crushed me under itself and, with its mouth open, was preparing to dine on me.

My gun lay far away in the snow. However, the gun was useless here, since the bear with all its weight fell on my back and did not allow me to move.

With great difficulty I pulled my small penknife out of my pocket and, without thinking twice, cut off three toes on the bear's hind leg.

He roared in pain and for a minute released me from his terrible embrace. Taking advantage of this, I, with my usual courage, ran to the gun and shot at the fierce beast. The beast collapsed into the snow.

But this did not end my misadventures: the shot woke up several thousand bears who were sleeping on the ice not far from me. Just imagine: several thousand bears! The whole horde of them headed straight towards me. What should I do? Another minute - and I will be torn to pieces by ferocious predators.

And suddenly a brilliant thought struck me. I grabbed a knife, ran up to the dead bear, tore off its skin and put it on myself. Yes, I put on a bear skin! The bears surrounded me. I was sure that they would pull me out of my skin and tear me to shreds. But they sniffed me and, mistaking me for a bear, peacefully walked away one after another.

I soon learned to growl like a bear and sucked my paw just like a bear. The animals were very trusting of me, and I decided to take advantage of this.

One doctor told me that a wound inflicted on the back of the head causes instant death. I walked up to the nearest bear and plunged my knife right into the back of its head.

I had no doubt that if the beast survived, it would immediately tear me to pieces. Fortunately, my experience was a success. The bear fell dead without even having time to cry out.

Then I decided to deal with the rest of the bears in the same way. I managed this without much difficulty. Although they saw how their comrades fell, but since they took me for a bear, they could not guess that I was killing them.

In just one hour I killed several thousand bears. Having accomplished this feat, I returned to the ship to my friend Phipps and told him everything. He provided me with a hundred of the sturdiest sailors, and I led them onto the ice floe. They skinned the dead bears and dragged the bear hams onto the ship.

There were so many hams that the ship could not move further. We had to return home, although we did not reach our destination. This is why Captain Phipps never discovered the North Pole. However, we did not regret it, because the bear meat we brought turned out to be surprisingly tasty.

Second trip to the moon

When I returned to England I promised myself never to undertake any travel again, but within a week I had to set off again.

The fact is that one of my relatives, an elderly and rich man, for some reason got it into his head that there was a country in the world where giants lived.

He asked me to definitely find this country for him and promised to leave me a large inheritance as a reward. I really wanted to see the giants!

I agreed, equipped the ship, and we set off for the Southern Ocean. Along the way we did not meet anything surprising, except for a few flying women who fluttered through the air like moths. The weather was excellent.

But on the eighteenth day a terrible storm arose. The wind was so strong that it lifted our ship above the water and carried it like a feather through the air. Higher, and higher, and higher! For six weeks we rushed over the highest clouds. Finally we saw a round sparkling island.

It was, of course, the Moon. We found a convenient harbor and reached the lunar shore. Below, far, far away, we saw another planet - with cities, forests, mountains, seas and rivers. We guessed that this was the land we had abandoned.

On the Moon we were surrounded by some huge monsters sitting astride three-headed eagles. These birds replace horses for the inhabitants of the Moon.

Just at that time, the Moon King was waging war with the Sun Emperor. He immediately invited me to become the head of his army and lead it into battle, but I, of course, flatly refused.

Everything on the Moon is much larger than what we have on Earth. The flies there are the size of sheep, every apple is no smaller than a watermelon. Instead of weapons, the inhabitants of the Moon use radishes. She replaces them with spears, and when there is no radish, they fight with pigeon eggs. Instead of shields, they use fly agaric mushrooms.

I saw there several inhabitants of one distant star. They came to the moon to trade. Their faces were like dog-like muzzles, and their eyes were either at the tip of the nose or below the nostrils. They had neither eyelids nor eyelashes, and when they went to bed, they covered their eyes with their tongues.

Lunar residents never have to waste time on food. They have a special door on the left side of their stomach: they open it and put food there. Then they close the door until another lunch, which they have once a month. They only have lunch twelve times a year!

This is very convenient, but it is unlikely that earthly gluttons and gourmands would agree to dine so rarely.

Lunar inhabitants grow directly on trees. These trees are very beautiful, they have bright crimson branches. Huge nuts with unusually strong shells grow on the branches. When the nuts are ripe, they are carefully removed from the trees and stored in the cellar.

As soon as the King of the Moon needs new people, he orders these nuts to be thrown into boiling water. After an hour, the nuts burst, and completely ready-made moon people jump out of them. These people don't have to study. They are immediately born adults and already know their craft. From one nut jumps a chimney sweep, from another an organ grinder, from a third an ice cream maker, from a fourth a soldier, from a fifth a cook, from a sixth a tailor.

And everyone immediately gets to work. The chimney sweep climbs onto the roof, the organ grinder begins to play, the ice cream man shouts: “Hot ice cream!” (because on the Moon ice is hotter than fire), the cook runs to the kitchen, and the soldier shoots at the enemy.

Having grown old, lunar people do not die, but melt into the air like smoke or steam. They have only one finger on each hand, but they work with it as deftly as we do with our fingers.

They carry their head under their arms and, when going on a journey, leave it at home so that it does not get damaged on the road. They can consult with their head even when they are far from it! It is very comfortable.

If the king wants to know what his people think about him, he stays at home and lies on the sofa, and his head quietly sneaks into other people's houses and eavesdrops on all conversations.

Grapes on the Moon are no different from ours. For me there is no doubt that the hail that sometimes falls to the earth is these very lunar grapes, plucked by a storm on the lunar fields.

If you want to try moon wine, collect some hailstones and let them melt thoroughly. For lunar inhabitants, the stomach serves as a suitcase. They can close and open it whenever they want and put whatever they want in it. They have no stomach, no liver, no heart, so they are completely empty inside.

They can take their eyes out and put them back in. By holding the eye, they see with it as clearly as if it were in their head. If an eye gets damaged or lost, they go to the market and buy a new one. That's why there are a lot of people on the Moon who sell their eyes. Every now and then you read on the signs: “Eyes are sold cheap. Great selection of orange, red, purple and blue.”

Every year among the lunar inhabitants new fashion on eye color. The year I walked on the moon, green and yellow eyes were in fashion. But why are you laughing? Do you really think that I am telling you a lie? No, every word I say is the purest truth, and if you don’t believe me, go to the moon yourself. There you will see that I am not inventing anything and am telling you only the truth.

Cheese Island

It’s not my fault if such wonders happen to me that have never happened to anyone else. This is because I love to travel and am always looking for adventure, and you sit at home and see nothing but the four walls of your room.

Once, for example, I went on a long voyage on a large Dutch ship. Suddenly, in the open ocean, a hurricane hit us, which in an instant tore off all our sails and broke all our masts.

One mast fell on the compass and broke it into pieces. Everyone knows how difficult it is to navigate a ship without a compass. We lost our way and didn't know where we were going.

For three months we were tossed from side to side on the waves of the ocean, and then carried away to God knows where, and then one fine morning we noticed an extraordinary change in everything. The sea turned from green to white. The breeze carried some kind of gentle, caressing smell. We felt very pleased and happy.

We soon saw the pier and an hour later we entered a spacious, deep harbor. Instead of water there was milk in it! We hastened to land on shore and began to drink greedily from the sea of milk.

Among us there was one sailor who could not stand the smell of cheese. When they showed him cheese, he started to feel sick. And as soon as we landed on the shore, he felt ill.

Get this cheese out from under my feet! - he shouted. - I don’t want to, I can’t walk on cheese!

I bent down to the ground and understood everything. The island where our ship landed was made of excellent Dutch cheese! Yes, yes, don’t laugh, I’m telling you the real truth: instead of clay, there was cheese under our feet.

Is it any wonder that the inhabitants of this island ate almost exclusively cheese! But there was no less cheese, since during the night exactly as much of it grew as was eaten during the day.

The whole island was covered with vineyards, but the grapes there are special: when you squeeze them in your fist, instead of juice, milk flows out of them. The inhabitants of the island are tall, beautiful people. Each of them has three legs. Thanks to their three legs, they can freely float on the surface of the milky sea.

The bread here grows baked, right in its finished form, so the inhabitants of this island do not have to sow or plow. I saw many trees hung with sweet honey gingerbread.

During our walks around Cheese Island, we discovered seven rivers flowing with milk and two rivers flowing with thick and tasty beer. I admit, I liked these beer rivers more than the milk rivers. In general, while walking around the island, we saw many miracles.

We were especially struck by the birds' nests. They were incredibly huge. One eagle's nest, for example, was taller than the tallest house. It was all woven from gigantic oak trunks. In it we found five hundred eggs, each the size of a good barrel.

We broke one egg, and a chick emerged from it, twenty times larger than an adult eagle. The chick squeaked. An eagle flew to his aid. She grabbed our captain, lifted him to the nearest cloud and from there threw him into the sea.

Fortunately, he was an excellent swimmer and after a few hours he swam to Cheese Island. In one forest I witnessed an execution.

The islanders hanged three people upside down from a tree. The unfortunate ones moaned and cried. I asked why they were being punished so cruelly. I was told that they were travelers who had just returned from a long journey and were shamelessly lying about their adventures.

I praised the islanders for such wise dealing with deceivers, because I cannot stand any deception and always tell only the pure truth.

However, you must have noticed yourself that in all my stories there is not a single word of lie. Lies are disgusting to me, and I am happy that all my loved ones have always considered me the most truthful person on earth.

Returning to the ship, we immediately raised anchor and sailed away from the wonderful island. All the trees that grew on the shore, as if by some sign, bowed twice to us from the waist and straightened up again as if nothing had happened.

Touched by their extraordinary courtesy, I took off my hat and sent them farewell greetings. Surprisingly polite trees, aren't they?

Ships swallowed by fish

We had no compass, and so we wandered for a long time in unfamiliar seas. Our ship was constantly surrounded by terrible sharks, whales and other sea monsters. At last we came upon a fish which was so large that, standing near its head, we could not see its tail.

When the fish wanted to drink, it opened its mouth, and water flowed like a river into its throat, dragging our ship with it. You can imagine the anxiety we felt! Even I, brave as I am, trembled with fear.

But the fish’s stomach turned out to be as quiet as a harbor. The entire fish belly was filled with ships that had long been swallowed by the greedy monster. Oh, if you only knew how dark it is there! After all, we saw neither the sun, nor the stars, nor the moon.

The fish drank water twice a day, and each time the water poured into its throat, our ship rose on high waves. The rest of the time my stomach was dry.

After waiting for the water to subside, the captain and I got off the ship for a walk. Here we met sailors from all over the world: Swedes, British, Portuguese... There were ten thousand of them in the fish belly. Many of them had lived there for several years. I suggested that we get together and discuss a plan for liberation from this stuffy prison. I was elected chairman, but just as I opened the meeting, the damned fish started drinking again and we all ran back to our ships.

The next day we gathered again, and I made the following proposal: tie the two tallest masts and, as soon as the fish opens its mouth, place them upright so that it cannot move its jaws. Then she will remain with her mouth open, and we will freely swim out.

My proposal was accepted unanimously. Two hundred of the strongest sailors installed two tall masts in the monster’s mouth, and it could not close its mouth.

The ships sailed merrily out of their bellies and into the open sea. It turned out that there were seventy-five ships in the belly of this giant. You can imagine how big the body was! We, of course, left the masts in the gaping mouth of the fish so that it could not swallow anyone else.

Having been freed from captivity, we naturally wanted to know where we were. It turned out to be in the Caspian Sea. This surprised us all very much, because the Caspian Sea is closed: it is not connected to any other seas.

But the three-legged scientist, whom I captured on Cheese Island, explained to me that the fish got into the Caspian Sea through some underground channel.

We headed to the shore, and I hurried to land, declaring to my companions that I would never go anywhere again, that I had had enough of the troubles that I had experienced these years, and now I wanted to rest. My adventures tired me out quite a bit, and I decided to live a quiet life.

Fight with a bear

But as soon as I got out of the boat, a huge bear attacked me. It was a monstrous beast of extraordinary size. He would have torn me to pieces in an instant, but I grabbed his front paws and squeezed them so hard that the bear roared in pain. I knew that if I let him go, he would immediately tear me to pieces, and therefore I held his paws for three days and three nights until he died of hunger.

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Usonsha the Bogatyrsha - Russian folk tale

The tale of Ivan Tsarevich and two brothers who went at the request of the Tsar-Father for living water and rejuvenating apples to Usonsha the hero. ...

A little old man sitting by the fireplace, telling stories, absurd and incredibly interesting, very funny and “true”... 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, turning the wolf inside out , discover half of the horse, which drinks tons of water and cannot quench its thirst.

Familiar stories, isn't it? Everyone has heard about Baron Munchausen. Even people who are not very good with fine literature, thanks to cinema, will be able to immediately list a couple of fantastic stories about it. Another question: “Who wrote the fairy tale “The Adventures of Baron Munchausen”?” Alas, the name of Rudolf Raspe is not known to everyone. And is he the original creator of the character? Literary scholars still find the strength to argue on this topic. However, first things first.

Who wrote the book "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen"?

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

Later years

Upon returning to his hometown, he chooses to become a clerk, and then works as a secretary in a library. Raspe made his debut as a publisher in 1764, offering the world the works of Leibniz, which, by the way, were dedicated to the future prototype of the Adventures. Around the same time, he wrote the novel “Hermyn and Gunilda”, became a professor and received the position of caretaker of an antique cabinet. Travels around Westphalia in search of ancient manuscripts, and then rare things for a collection (alas, not his own). The latter was entrusted to Raspa 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 man, even poor, which forced him to commit a crime and sell off part of the collection. However, Raspa managed to escape punishment, but it is difficult to say how this happened. They say that those who came to arrest the man listened and, fascinated by his gift as a storyteller, allowed him to escape. This is not surprising, because they encountered Raspe himself - the one who wrote “The Adventures of Baron Munchausen”! How could it be otherwise?

The appearance of a fairy tale

The stories and twists and turns associated with the publication of this fairy tale actually turn out to be no less interesting than the adventures of its main character. In 1781, in the “Guide for Merry People” the first stories with a cheerful and all-powerful old man are found. It was unknown who wrote The Adventures of Baron Munchausen. The author considered it necessary 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 and had integrity and completeness (unlike the previous version). Fairy tales were written in English language, and the situations in which he acted main character, had a purely English flavor and were associated with the sea. The book itself was conceived as a kind of edification directed against lies.

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

Prototype

The resilient baron had a real-life prototype. His name, like the literary character, was Munchausen. By the way, the problem of this transmission remains unresolved. introduced the variant “Munhausen” into use, but in modern publications the letter “g” was added to the hero’s surname.

The real baron, already at an advanced age, loved to talk about his hunting adventures in Russia. 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 went into print. Of course, the necessary degree of anonymity was observed, but people who knew the baron closely understood who the prototype of these sweet stories was.

Last years and death

In 1794, the writer tried to start a mine in Ireland, but death prevented these plans from coming true. Raspe's significance for the further development of literature is great. In addition to inventing the character, who had already become a classic, almost anew (taking into account all the details of the creation of the fairy tale, which were mentioned above), Raspe drew the attention of his contemporaries to ancient German poetry. He was also one of the first to feel that the Songs of Ossian were a fake, although he did not deny their cultural significance.

Baron Munchausen fairy tale all chapters. Tale of the adventures of Baron Munchausen. Last years and death

HORSE ON THE ROOF

AMAZING HUNT

BLIND PIG

HOW I CAUGHT A BOAR

EXTRAORDINARY DEER

HORSE ON THE TABLE

HALF HORSE

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A guide for funny people

Part I Adventures on land

Adventure one

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Adventure two

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The Adventures of Baron Munchausen - Raspe R.E.

Horse on the roof

Wolf harnessed to a sleigh

Sparks from the eyes

Amazing hunt

Partridges on a ramrod

Fox on a pin

Blind Pig

How I caught a wild boar

Extraordinary deer

Wolf inside out

Crazy fur coat

Eight-legged hare

Wonderful jacket

Horse on the table

Half a horse

Riding on the core

By hair

Bee shepherd and bears

First trip to the moon

Greed Punished

Horses under your arms, a carriage on your shoulders

Thawed sounds

Storm

Between a crocodile and a lion

Meeting with a whale

In the stomach of a fish

My wonderful servants

Chinese wine

Chase

Accurate shot

One against a thousand

Core Man

Among the polar bears

Second trip to the moon

Cheese Island

Ships swallowed by fish

Fight with a bear

Usonsha the Bogatyrsha - Russian folk tale

Who wrote the book "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen"?

Later years

The appearance of a fairy tale

Prototype

Last years and death

Part I
Adventures on land