,,The Three Brothers

and the

Golden Apple''

Author: Unknow

There was a woman with three sons. Although they were poor, they had one treasure: in their little yard grew a most wondrous apple tree. Every year, it bore but a single fruit - an apple of the purest gold .

However, the family had never had the joy of picking the tree's gift, as every year a hala would swoop down and steal the apple just as it bloomed.

The sons watched this repeat year after year, their anger growing at the hala's insolence. Finally, the oldest son decided to try and stop the monster. On the eve the apple was bloom he went to his mother and said:

Mother, give me a knife and a bag of walnuts. I am going to guard the apple.

His mother begged him to be careful, but gave him the knife and walnuts. He took them and went to sit underneath the tree, eyes trained on the horizon.

Night fell. The hours passed with not a sight of the hala. The oldest son's eyes began closing despite his efforts to keep awake by eating the walnuts and soon, he was asleep.

When he awoke the next morning, the apple was gone. He went back to his mother, shame-faced.

Mother, I didn't save the apple...

Next year...

The next year, the second son decided to try his hand at stopping the hala. He, too, asked for a knife and a bag of walnuts.

Mother, give me a knife and a bag of walnuts. I am going to guard the apple.

This time, however, he climbed the tree and waited for the hala there,knife at the ready. Unfortunately, it was no natural sleep that had fallen his brother and he, too, woke to an empty tree.

Mother, I didn't save the apple...

Next year...

On the third year, the third son went up to his mother and said:

Mother, give me the knife to guard the apple.

As he was youngest, the mother was hesitant to let him near the tree, but finally relented to his determination.

The older brothers, ashamed at their failures the years past, mocked him as he went to sit in the tree:

You better come back inside! If we could not catch the monster, you might well die, puny that you are!

The youngest did not answer.

Like his second brother, he climbed the tree and trained his eyes on the branch that was to bear the golden apple.

Hala swooped into their yard, monstrous from wrapped in wind and dust. Not expecting the boy to be awake, the hala stretched it's muzzle towards the apple without playing the human much heed. This was to the youngest son's advantage and he slid the knife into the hala's neck, dealing an almost-mortal wound. He then hid within the tree's foliage and out of the enraged monster's sight.

Mother, i hurt the hala, but i have to look for her to kill her

Go well, but be careful, please.

Brothers, please come with me. I have to look for the hall. Will you help me?

Okay

Youngest son urged his brothers to go and look for the creature and kill it while it was still weak. They agreed and set out that very day.

The three brothers walked and walked, overturn tree and stone in search for the hala. Finally, they stumbled across a great hole in the ground- a hole large enough to let a monster trough.

,,I will go" said the third brother.

If I shake the rope, keep lowering me. If I shake the rope again lower me in until I reach the bottom.

The brothers did as the youngest told them. They kept lowering and lowering the rope, and when it shook, they lowered some more.

Finally, the youngest feet touched soild ground.

Maidens, let me in!

At first, no one answered him, but as he made to call again the oldest girl looked up from her play.

Go away, stranger. Each year on this day mother comes back with a golden apple for one of us. This year, she returned empty-handed and sick. If you come she will eat you.

I am not afraid of her. Let me in, or I will break the glass the enter through want to be set free from here?

He then let the three maidens out of the house and to the rope, still hanging in expectation of his return. “Come,” he said to the oldest daughter. Her hair was a deep gold, her eyes dark. She was lovelier than the Sun. He tied the rope about her waist and shook it, letting his brothers pull her out.

A little while after, the rope fell down again. The youngest brother motioned to the second daughter. She was even lovelier than her sister, her hair long and soft, her face glowing with warmth. He secured the rope about her and let his brothers pull her up.

The rope fell down for the third time. The youngest sister stepped up – the prettiest, the gentlest of them all, her hair pale as moonlight, her face soft and round. The third son sighed,

If I have you go ahead of me, my brothers will fight over you and leave me. If I leave before you, would you want to follow after? No, I will send you first; if my brothers love me, they will pull me up.” He tied the rope about her.

“Here,” said the maiden, taking a hold of his hand, “Take this ring. If your brothers fight over me, I will tell them that I will choose only the one who can give me clothes that make themselves. As for you, if your brothers do not pull you up, you will soon fall deeper in.

Under this world graze two bulls – one white, one black. If you fall on the white one, it will take you up to the world above. If you happen to fall on the black one, however, it will take you to the worlds below.”

The youngest son nodded, then shook the rope. He watched as the girl was pulled up and up, finally out of sight.

The rope did not fall again.

Suddenly, the earth began to shake, rumble, finally breaking into two. The youth fell amongst debris and dust, unable to tell what was up and what was down. When he could see again, he found himself on a broad back of a monstrous bull – onto fur of the darkest black. Before he could try and move, the bull launched down, powerful feet sending whole boulders flying. He could only watch as the white bull, heading upwards, disappeared from sight.

The black bull ran through many lands, through nine whole worlds, through nine kingdoms into the tenth. There the bull shook the youth off and disappeared, hurrying to the lush fields of the world he had left.

The young man stood up and looked around. Gray huts and barren gardens stretched as far as the eye could see. Most of them seemed deserted, but one glowed softly with the warmth of a fire. Quickly, he walked to it, peeking in through the dirty window.

An old woman sat by a dusty table, kneading dough for bread. Every once in a while she would pause, spit onto the dough, then continue kneading. The brother, amazed at such strange method, could not contain himself and spoke,

“Grandmother, don’t you think the bread will taste better if you use water instead of spit?”

The woman paused in her work, lifting a gray head. Seeing the brother she sighed sadly.

“Ah, boy, do you think I don’t know that? But there is no water in this land, not a drop. Even for the King himself!”

“You do not have water in this world?” the brother asked. The woman shook her head.

“We did. We did, but five years ago a hala appeared. It stole our water, dammed it all up in the mountains yonder. Now it demands a maiden for a sacrifice each time it is to let us have some of it, or we die of thirst.” big, bitter tears rolled down the woman’s wrinkled face and onto the dough. “Three daughters I had, my boy. None left now. All of them eaten by that monster for a pittance of water.”

The brother said nothing, anger burning in him at the old woman’s words.

“Tomorrow, the King’s daughter is to be sacrificed to the beast. Her father is beside himself with grief, but the people are dying, are ready to revolt,” she laughs sadly, “Why our daughters, but not his they say. Poor girl.”

“Tell me, Princess – what kind of monster is it?”

A terrible beast. It has three heads, each one deadlier than the last, and a body larger than a castle. There is no way to defeat it, brave knight. Many others have tried.”

The girl looked at him, eyes wide in fear, 

As soon as the tremendous body thundered, lifeless, against the ground, the whole mountain shook with amazing power. The magic keeping streams and rivers dammed within the earth broke in that instant and the sound of water, strong and joyful, filled the night.

“It is done,” said the young man, and led the Princess back home.

“No,” the youth shook his head, resolute. “I must return home. I have a mother and brothers waiting for me there.”

After much back-and-forth, the King finally admitted,

“I do not know how to return you to the world above. No human has ever gone, and no beast will be willing to take you.”

“Let me try,” said the youth, “Point me to one that can make the journey.”

The King then told him of a nest in a certain tree not far from here – a nest of an enormous Eagle. “She is the only one strong enough to take you back. I shall cover any due she may demand, if she agrees to carry you up.”

The young man set out to find the tree bearing the nest of a monstrous eagle. It was not too difficult a task; the field in which the tree grew could not host anything by the massive plant. Its branches seemed to reach the skies, yet appeared but twigs in comparison of the heavy nest it bore. There lay three little eagles, each one as big as the youth himself. They were squealing and wailing in despair. As the young man walked closer, the reason soon became apparent.

A horrific snake, thick as the tree itself and taller still, had wrapped its body around the sturdy bark. Slowly, it inched its way towards the terrified chicks, jaws snapping in delight.

The youth did not pause to think; he ran as fast as he could, jumped and climbed up the snake’s back as if it were bark itself. Before the monster could more than turn towards him, he swung the sword with all of his might, impaling the snake’s thick skull against the tree.

Grateful at their savior, the chicks clustered about him with happy peeps. No sooner had he stumbled into the nest proper, however, did a tremendous shadow cover the sky. Without warning, a sharp beak seized the young man and threw him to the ground, almost killing him in its ferociousness.

“No, wait!” screamed the youth, but the Mother Eagle did not listen – she launched herself at him, believing he were the threat that had scared her babies so. At the last moment, she happened to glance back – to notice the dead snake limply coiled against her nest. Gently, she scooped the wounded lad and brought him back into the nest

“Human,” she croaked, regretful. “I have repaid your kindness with pain. For ten years has this disgusting snake eaten my children, but no more! Tell me; is there anything I could do for you? Anything you wish?”

The youth told her his story, begged her to take him home. The wise Eagle nodded, but was more than reluctant.

“You see I have my chicks to protect,” she told him, then sighed. “Had you not done me this tremendous good, I would have never agreed. But fine. Secure one hundred cases of meat and one hundred barrels of wine – they will give me strength for the trip. I will take you home.”

The young man thanked her, then hurried back with her request to the King. The food and drink was quickly secured and efficiently tied to the Eagle’s back, the youth himself riding in a leather seat strapped across the Eagle’s chest.

“Hold on,” she instructed him tersely. “When I clack my beak once, give me some wine to drink. When I clack my beak twice, feed me meat.”

The young man nodded and did as he was told. The two traveled for days, weeks maybe – each time the Eagle clacked her beak, the youth gave her wine. When she clacked her beak twice, he fed her meat.

They were almost to the surface; but one kingdom remained. Wine remained aplenty, but the cases were all empty of meat. Yet, the Eagle clacked her beak twice.

There was no more meat to be had. The youth looked to and fro, despairing, and the clacking came again. He could not fail this close to home; clenching his teeth, he took out a knife and cut off a little flesh from his arm and fed it to the Eagle.

The call for food came twice more after that. Each time, the young man would cut into his own body – his thigh, his calf. Finally, they were at the surface – at the hole through which he had entered seemingly so long ago. There, the Eagle let him off. He tried to hide his wounds but she stopped him, a shrewd look in her eyes.

“I know you fed me flesh of your own. The taste was so much better than that of the other meats – I could tell. It lent me power to make it up here and for that, I shall return it to you.” That said, she spit out the three pieces of his flesh she had swallowed, and laid them against their respective wounds. They healed in an instant.

The young man thanked her for all of her kindness and left, eager to get home.

Nothing had changed; their house, even their mother who greeted him at the gate with hugs and tears, remained as he had left them. Only the angry voices from within were new – his brothers, still fighting over the third sister. True to her word, the maiden had not chosen a suitor, as neither had been able to give her clothes that made themselves.

Entering the house, the youngest son scolded his brothers for their cruelness, halting their quarrel. He then turned to the beautiful girl and took out the ring she had given him so long ago.

“Here; I am returning this to you.”

As he handed her the ring, it suddenly broke into two and from within it fell three gowns, each one more beautiful than the last. The maiden smiled.

“You have given me clothes that make themselves,” she said, and clasped his hand, “I am yours, as promised.”

The older brothers admitted defeat and regretted their callous ways. They married the two sisters they had so long scorned, and lived in relative peace near their youngest brother.

As for him who had seen so many wonders – well, he married the beautiful maiden and lived happily ever after.

The End