He had scarcely composed himself to sleep when there was a great noise of shouting and yelling, which woke him up; and behold there came thither towards the palm-tree, from the southern side of the steppe, a herd of dæmons, having ox-hide caps on their heads, and riding on horses covered with ox-hides. Nor had they long settled themselves before another herd of dæmons came trooping towards the palm-tree from the northern side of the steppe, and these wore paper caps and rode on horses wearing paper coverings.
All these dæmons now danced and feasted together with great howling and shouting. The man looked down upon them from the tree-top full of terror, but also full of envy at their enjoyment. As he leant over to watch them, the horse’s head tumbled out of his girdle right into their midst and scattered them in dire alarm in every direction, not one of them daring to look up to see whence it came. It was not till the morning light broke, however, that the man ventured to come down. When he did so, he said, “Last night there was much feasting and drinking going on here, surely there must be something left from such a banquet.” Searching through the long feather-grass all about, he discovered a gold goblet full of brandy[3], from which he drank long draughts, but it continued always full. At last he turned it down upon the ground, and immediately all manner of meats and cakes appeared. “This goblet is indeed larder and cellar!” said the man, and taking it with him he went on his way.
Farther on he met a man brandishing a thick stick as he walked.
“What is your stick good for that you brandish it so proudly?” asked the turbulent man.
“My stick is so much good that when I say to it, ‘Fly, that man has stolen somewhat of me, fly after him and kill him and bring me back my goods,’ it instantly flies at the man and brings my things back.”
“Yours is a good stick, but see my goblet; whatsoever you desire of meat or drink this same goblet provides for the wishing. Will you exchange your stick against my goblet?”
“That will I gladly,” rejoined the traveller.
But the turbulent man, having once effected the exchange, cried to the stick, “Fly, that man has stolen my goblet, fly after him and kill him and bring me back my goblet! “Before the words had left his lips the stick flew through the air, killed the man, and brought back the goblet. Thus he had both the stick and the goblet.
Farther on he saw a man coming who carried an iron hammer.
“What is your hammer good for?” inquired he as they met.