Once upon a time there lived a threshing-barn stoker who was so bold that no other man in the whole wide world could match him in boldness. Even the Devil himself was reputed to have admitted that the stoker was the most daring man he had ever set eyes on. That is why he used to come to visit him in the evenings, when there were no other threshers about, to while away his time. The Devil thought that the stoker did not know who he was and took him for a simple countryman. But the stoker knew very well who his visitor was although he kept it to himself and never let on. He thought that one lucky day he might even benefit from his friendship.

One evening when the Devil, weary of being alone, had begun complaining that he had no one at home to darn his socks or mittens, the stoker said, "Why don't you go and take yourself a wife?"

The Devil said in reply, "I've tried my luck already many a time but maidens don't care for me. The younger and prettier they are the more they laugh at me."

Now the stoker advised him to try wooing older maidens or widows as they were more docile and seldom known to spurn a suitor. And thus a few weeks later the Devil had gone and wooed an elderly maiden, but soon after the marriage he sought out the stoker once more and complained that his newly-married wife was so cross-tempered that she would but nag him day and night and never give him a moment's peace.

"A fine fellow you are," laughed the stoker, "to let your wife wear the breeches! Once you decide to take a wife, you should also be able to manage her!"

The Devil said, "I am not the one to cope with her and I won't bother. I'll never cross her threshold again."

The stoker tried to comfort him and advised him to go and have another try, but the Devil said that he had had already more than enough of married life, and he was not too keen on getting hooked anew.

A year later, in autumn when corn threshing had just begun, the Devil called on his old friend again. The stoker was quick to notice that the Devil had something on his mind, but he asked no questions. He thought it better to wait and let the other talk of his own accord.

And he didn't have to wait long before the Devil began recounting his misfortune. In the summer he had come to know a young widow as meek and gentle as a dove. And his heart was throbbing with love again and he went to woo the dove. No sooner had he brought his darling home than he saw his docile dove turn into a hawk ready to peck out his eyes. He had taken to flight and had thanked his lucky stars for having got off in one piece.

The stoker said, "I can see that you will never make a married man because you are as timid as a hare with women. You will never be master in your own house." The Devil couldn't but agree with him. After they had talked a while about women and ways of courting them, the Devil said,

"If you are really so brave that you think you can tame any shrew then I want to tell you a better way of applying your daring than wasting it on unruly womenfolk. You have seen the ruins of the old castle on yonder hill, haven't you? Under the ruins there is an old treasure trove which no man has ever laid his hands on, for no one has ever dared undertake the venture and bring the treasure into daylight."

The stoker laughed in reply, "If the venture calls only for daring, the treasure is as good as in my pocket already!"

Now the Devil told the stoker that he should go after the treasure the following Thursday night at full moon. He added,

"See that you do not get frightened by anything. Should you get scared or should the smallest fibre of your body tremble with fear, you might not only lose the treasure you are after but your life as well. This has happened to many a brave man before you. If you don't believe my story, go to any of the peasant farms around there and ask the folk what they know about the ruins of the old castle. Some of them might even tell you what they have seen with their own eyes. I want to warn you once again: if you cherish your dear life and want to gain a large fortune then take care not to get frightened by anything!"

On Thursday morning the stoker set out. Though not a whit afraid, he still thought it wiser to drop in at the village inn to find some folk there who could tell him a thing or two about the old castle ruins. He asked the inn-keeper if anyone knew when the castle had been built and why it had fallen into ruins.

An old villager, who had heard the stoker's questions, could tell him the following,

"People say that a few hundred years ago an immensely rich landlord had been living there. He had ruled over a great number of people and had had large areas of land in his possession. The landlord had been a ruthless man, ruling his people with a rod of iron. He had inflicted enormous sufferings upon them, and had scraped together a great fortune at the expense of his subjects' blood and sweat. Silver and gold had been hauled together by cartloads and stored up in the deep cellars of the castle so that no thief or robber could have been able to reach his hand for the treasure.

But no one has been able to say how that wicked and unjust rich man met his death. One morning his servants had found his bed empty, only three drops of blood on the floor, and a big black cat sitting at the head of the bed. No one had ever seen the cat before nor after the happening. Thus everybody thought the cat could have been no one else than the Devil himself, who had strangled the cruel landlord and then taken him to hell to answer for all his wicked deeds.

When the kin of the landlord learnt of his death, and came to claim his fortune, not a penny could be found anywhere. At first the servants were accused of having stolen the money. They were brought to court and subjected to severe torture. Despite all the torturing they could not confess anything, for they were completely innocent of the crime. During the trial several people had heard coins tinkling somewhere deep below the castle grounds and they had gone and informed the judges about it. The court, having thoroughly looked into the matter, found the people's stories to be' true and the servants were set free. Despite the fact that the mysterious tinkling of coins had been repeatedly heard at night, and several adventurers had gone to look for the treasure pit, nothing had been found and none of the searchers had returned. It may have been that the Devil who had strangled the wicked landlord, had also carried off the treasure-seekers. It was plain to everybody that the castle harboured some uncanny mystery and not a soul dared to live in it, and gradually its roof and walls started crumbling in the wind and rain, and nothing but ruins remained. Not a single human being has dared to come near the ruins at night, let alone risk looking for the ancient treasure."

These were the words of the old villager. When the stoker had heard his story, he said jokingly, "I wouldn't mind going there to try my luck. Is there anybody here among you who might like to accompany me there tonight?"

The men crossed themselves, and declared with one voice that their lives were a lot more precious to them than all the treasure in the world. They were sure that the treasure could not be obtained without selling out one's soul to the Devil and begged the stranger to give up the mad idea. But the daring stoker paid no heed to their entreaties and warnings. He was anxious to go and have a try on his own. The same evening he asked the inn-keeper for a bunch of fire-sticks to light his way and inquired about the shortest way to the castle ruins.

A villager who looked to be somewhat bolder than his companions offered to accompany the stoker on his way for a short while. Lantern in hand, he led the way for some distance, but when they had come within half a mile of the ruins, his courage failed and he turned back. The cloudy night was pitch dark and the stoker had to grope his way along as his eyes could see nothing in the darkness. The whistling of the wind and the hooting of the owls sounded scary, but the stoker's daring heart defied all fears and he went on.

As soon as he had got into the shelter of the ruins he lit one of his f ire-sticks and began looking round for a door or some cave that might take him underground. He spent quite a long time in futile search before he was able to spot an opening underneath a wall. He thrust his fire-stick in a crack of the wall and cleared off some rubble and stone till he could squeeze himself in.

Somewhat lower down he came upon a stone staircase leading into a tunnel high enough for him to walk straight. The bunch of fire-sticks on his shoulder and a burning one in his hand, he proceeded along the tunnel until he came to an iron door which had no padlock on it. He pushed the heavy door open and was about to enter when a big black cat with fiery eyes dashed past him like a whirlwind and streaked up the stairs. The stoker thought that the cat must have been the same one who had strangled the wicked landowner. He dropped his bunch of fire-sticks on to the floor and began looking around.

The room was a spacious one. There were doors in every wall. The stoker counted twelve doors in all, and wondered which of them he was to open first. "Seven is a lucky number!" he exclaimed, and started counting up to seven from the door through which he had entered. He gave a push at the seventh door but it was locked and would not open. He kept pushing against the door with all his might until the rusty lock gave way and the door bounced open.

On entering, the stoker found himself in a medium-sized room. At one end there stood a long table and a bench. At the opposite wall there was an open hearth. On the floor near the hearth there were some logs as if waiting to be kindled. The stoker threw them in to the hearth and lit a fire. By the glow of the fire he could see a small cooking pot and a bowl of flour near by. There was even a small box with some salt in it.

"Upon my soul!" exclaimed the stoker. "Who would have thought one might find food here! There must be some water in my keg I took along. I haven't drunk it up yet. Now I can surely cook myself some hot gruel."

With these words he put the pot on the fire, poured in the water and added the flour, sprinkled in some salt and soon the gruel was ready. He poured the gruel into the bowl and put it on the table. The brightly burning fire in the hearth lit up the whole room so there was no need for him to light a fire-stick. Our daring stoker took a spoon and began to fill his empty stomach with the warm gruel.

When he happened to raise his eyes he saw the black cat with flaming eyes sitting near the hearth. The stoker wondered how on earth the beast had got there as he had himself seen it streak up the stairs. Next he heard three thundering knocks on the door so that the walls and the floor shook. The stoker did not lose his head and cried out, "In with you, if there's a head on your shoulders!"

In an instant the door burst open; the black cat leapt up and bolted through the door in such a rush that fiery sparks flew from her mouth and eyes.

When the cat was gone, four tall men in white robes and glittering scarlet hats entered. Their hats glowed so intensely that the room was brightly lit up as if it had been daytime. The men were carrying a catafalque with a coffin on it on their shoulders. The daring stoker viewed the sight calmly. Without a word, the men put the coffin down, filed out of the room and closed the door firmly after them. The cat kept caterwauling and scratching the door as if asking to be let in, but the stoker took no notice of her and went on calmly eating his warm gruel.

After the meal he got to his feet and went to have a look at the coffin. He pried the lid open and saw a small old man with a long grey beard in the coffin. He lifted the body out of it and laid him near the hearth to be warmed up. Pretty soon the man began to move his limbs. Life seemed to be returning into his body.

The daring stoker had no fear whatever. He took the bowl of gruel from the table and began to feed the old man. The latter snatched the bowl with both hands and gulped the gruel down in one go. Then he said to his feeder,

"God bless you, son, for having taken mercy upon me and warming up my poor famished and frozen body. For this you will be so richly rewarded that you'll remember me to the end of your days. There are some torches behind the hearth. Light one and come along with me. But first lock the door lest the ferocious cat should come in and break your neck. We are going to tame her later on so that she will never again cause harm to another soul."

With these words the old man pulled up a rectangular limestone slab that covered a trap-hole in the floor. The old man, closely followed by the fearless stoker, a burning torch in his hand, descended into a murky underground cave.

In the cave that turned out to be a kind of cellar, there was a huge heap of silver and gold coins. The heap was as high as a haystack. Out of a cupboard the old man took a handful of waxen candles, three bottles of wine, a smoked ham and a loaf of bread, and thereupon said to the stoker,

"You'll have three days to count and sort out this money here. You are to divide the money into two equal heaps. Both heaps must have exactly the same amount of money and not a single coin must be left over. While you are doing the dividing, I'll have a sleep over there beside the wall. Take care not to make a single mistake in your work or I will have to strangle you."

The stoker set to work at once and the old man lay down to have a good rest. To avoid getting mixed up, the stoker carefully picked out two coins of equal value each time, be it thalers or roubles of gold or smaller coins of silver. Of the two coins he picked, he placed one on to the heap on his right and the other on to the heap on his left. When his strength began to fail, he took a sip of the refreshing drink, a bite of ham and bread and resumed his work with new vigour.

As he was busily working all through the night the stoker had the coins divided by the evening of the following day, but for one tiny silver coin which had remained over. This did not cause too much bother to the stoker. He pulled a knife from his pocket, placed its blade exactly in the middle of the coin, hit the blade with a stone and split the coin in two halves. He placed one half on to the heap on his right, the other half on to the heap on his left and then went to wake up the old man to come and take a look at his work.

Hardly had the old man spotted the halves of the remaining coin on the two heaps when he threw his arms round the stoker's neck with a shout of joy, and said,

"Thank you from the bottom of my heart, young fellow! You have delivered me from my long and wearisome confinement. I've had to guard my wealth here for several hundred years because there was no man bold and clever enough who could have divided the money exactly. I had to take an oath to strangle everyone who could not manage it. As none of them returned to their friends, it's no wonder that for the last two hundred years nobody has dared to come here, although I've been clinking the coins every single night through all these years. You, lucky one, happened to turn up just at the moment I was about to abandon all hope of ever getting out of here. Thank you for your good deed.

One heap of coins will be your reward, the other should be handed out to the poor of the parish to atone for my wrongdoings. Greed for wealth made me a wicked and ruthless man. There is still another task you'll have to carry out which will benefit us both. When you go out of this cellar, the big black cat will come to meet you on the stairs. You must seize hold of her and hang her. Here, take this noose to catch her. She'll never escape it!"

So saying the old man took a string of golden wire from his pocket and handed it to the stoker. All of a sudden the old man was gone as if the earth had swallowed him up, and there followed a mighty clap of thunder which made the ground shake under the stoker's feet. The candle went out and the stoker found himself in utter darkness. Even this did not discourage the brave stoker. He calmly groped along until he reached the stairs. He climbed up and got into the room where he had made his gruel. The fire in the hearth had gone out but he found some embers among the ashes to kindle a new one. The coffin was still on the catafalque but he found the big black cat sleeping in it instead of the old man. The stoker seized the cat by the scruff of her neck, slipped the noose over her head and left her hanging from an iron hook in the wall. Then he laid himself down on the floor to have a rest.

It was not until late next morning that he emerged from under the walls and made for the same inn where he had stopped on his way to the ruins. The inn-keeper was astonished but very glad to see the stranger safe and sound. But the daring stoker said to him,

"Your reward will be plentiful if you get me a score of sacks large enough to hold a ton of corn, and hire some horses for me, so that I can take away the treasure from the ruins."

From these words the inn-keeper gathered at once that the stranger had not returned empty-handed, and he hastened to carry out the rich man's orders.

Finding out from the people which lands had been ruled over by the owner of the castle, the stoker handed out a third of the poor people's share to the people in those areas. Two-thirds of the amount he handed over to the court to be divided among the other poor.

Thereupon the stoker took his own share and went to live in a faraway country where no one knew him. Some of his kin are still reputed to be living there in affluence, praising their daring forefather who had won the great fortune for them.

Jason Ladock

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